Part 51
things which you can see are merely the garments of some great
thought of God. The sea, the land, the sky–these are, as it were, the
words in which some thought of the Eternal is couched–in part
concealed, in part revealed. But the great design of Creation is the
Glory of God through the salvation of His redeemed. On the
innermost heart of Creation, if you could get at it and could read it
with the eyes of God, you would see this inscription, "Made for the
accomplishment of the salvation of God's elect and, thereby, for the
Glory of God." When He made mankind on earth, multitudinous as
the bees that swarm out of their hives, the first thought with God
was concerning His own people. The race was to live and exist by
His supreme mercy, because of His love to His own people–and
His people are still made to live that they may be the means of
blessing others! First, the bread is given to the disciples and then
the disciples give it to the multitude. The first thought of God is
that His own children shall be blessed. When I gaze upon the sea
with its rolling waves, or look upon the plains and the forests, or
think of this round world and the myriads of stars, the first thing I
am to remember is this–that it is the love of God which has clothed
His thought in these marvelous garments! The deep that lies under
them all is His love to His people and that you who are His shall
enjoy most blessedly.
And, next, this is the secret of Divine Providence. You cannot see
the deep that lies under, but you can perceive whatis God's design
in Providence. Why these wars and rumors of wars, earthquakes,
famines and devastations? The man who can read history aright
down to the birth of Christ and, making that the center, will read on
to the death of Christ andall the later history. He will begin to
understand that all of it is merely the salvation of the chosen people
hammered out–either nearer or more remotely–it all tends to that
result. The issues of all events turn upon the grand Plan of
Redemption! It is so in the great matters of life and it is equally so
in the little. Your poverty, your sickness , the death ofone you love–
all of that had in it the deep that lies under–promoting the Glory of
God and your eternal safety! So, Beloved, the next time you get
where you cannot see to the bottom of the clear waters, say to
yourself, "There is a deep that lies under, and that is mine, and I am
to have the blessing of it. I cannot see what God means by this
experience, but how can such a babe as I am ever hope to
understand the Infinite? I was born only yesterday and the Eternal
God has lived forever and ever. He must have designs that I cannot
grasp. The deep that lies under in Providence is, however, mine."
God's servants, in reviewing their lives, must often be startled to
notice how, in their ministry, simple matters are proved to be from
the Lord though, at the time, they knew it not. Have you never
heard the story of the Scottish minister? It is one which is, beyond
all question, a pure matter of fact. He went to a certain place to
preach and took with him the sermon which he intended to use. He
went upstairs to refresh his memory with his manuscript and knelt
to pray. And when he had done praying, he could not find the
sermon! He was in a great state of anxiety about it, for he could not
remember anything else that he could preach except a sermon upon
the text, "You shall not kill." He thought that would be a very odd
discourse to deliver when taking an occasional service at a Brother
minister's church–and he did not wish to preach it. It was one of a
course of sermons that he had preached to his own people upon the
Decalogue but, though it was a sermon apparently quite unfit for
the occasion, he could remember no other and he, therefore,
preached from the text, "You shall not kill"–a sermon against the
crime of murder.
When the service was over, there rushed into the vestry a man,
apparently demented. And, shutting fast the door that none might
hear, he confessed to the preacher that he had committed a murder
which had never been discovered. And he received direction from
the minister what to do in order that he might find peace with God.
That done, the preacher returned to the bedroom where he had
prayed–and the first thing he saw when he entered the room was
the sermon that he had intended to preach, lying where he could not
help seeing it! Often, we do not perceive what is immediately
before our eyes–and this good man had not seen his manuscript, for
there was a secret design of Providence to be worked through its
loss.
There is also a great deep that lies under, not only in Creation and
in Providence, but in the teachings of God in theScriptures. You,
dear Friends, who have been lately converted, cannot fully
comprehend some of the deeper doctrines of our holy faith. It is a
mercy that you need not understand them in order to be saved. If I
am very thirsty, I do not require to go down into the heart of the
earth to see where all the reservoirs of water are–here is a little
spring that is bubbling up and I have only to lie down by it and
drink. That is enough for me because it quenches my thirst. Of
course, after I have done that, I desire to intermeddle with all
knowledge and I would like to go in search of the hidden springs of
the great sea of the Truth of God to find out what it is that God
calls His deep things, that I may know all that I can concerning
them. But, whatever those deep things are, you who love the Lord
and live near to Him have the blessing of those deep doctrines,
those vast Truths before which the human mind lies prostrate in
adoration. They are all yours–you have the blessings of the deep
that lies under!
Whatever God's eternal purpose which is not yet revealed, may
be, it is not for you and me to try to clamber up andgaze upon the
mysterious volume wherein is written all that shall yet come to
pass. But we may be quite sure that there is nothing in that book
which is not full of blessing to them that love God and are the
called according to His purpose. You can rest content with that!
When God is pleased to turn the next leaf of the volume of the
future and you hear it rustle, do not be eager to read what the next
lines may be. Whether they are of gloom or of joy–stand back and
say–
"My God, I would not long to see
My fate with curious eyes,
What gloomy lines are writ for me,
Or what bright scenes may rise."
It is enough for me that my name is in the Book of Life and that,
being there, all things must work together for my good! The deep
that lies under is mine with all the blessings that are hidden in it.
The more you think on this theme, the more you will see what
there is in it, for, after all, there is no dark thing that you can think
of but what there is a great deep of blessing underneath it. For
instance, what lies under death, itself? Why, resurrection! And
Jesus says, "I am the Resurrection and the Life." But there could
not be any resurrection if there were not death, first! And it is not
an ill thing that this body should lie in the grave and have
fellowship with Christ in death, that it may afterwards have
fellowship with Him in His Resurrection! Do not be content with
looking at the top of the soil of the Truth of God, but think of the
vast deep of Infinite Mercy and Love that lies underneath it!
But what is at the bottom of all? I answer, God Himself. , for
"underneath are theeverlasting arms." God's Mercy, God's Love,
God's Grace–this is the deep that lies under everything! This deep
is unsearchable. As no man can see the great deep that lies under
the earth, so we cannot search out or measure the great deeps of
everlasting love. This we know–the great deeps under the world are
always there. As they were there in Noah's day and answered to
God's call and destroyed the earth at His bidding, so they are still
there and will be while the earth remains. And there is always, in
the heart of God, the immutable deep of Divine Love and
faithfulness towards His own Joseph. The deeps are always there
and we may always feel sure that those deeps are inexhaustible.
The springs that come up from the deep are never dried in summer
and they are never frozen in winter. I know a spring which, within a
few yards of its source, produces a river which turns a great mill-
wheel within a distance of about the length of this Tabernacle from
the place in which it comes out of the earth. It is an extraordinary
thing, the force that there is in the deep that lies under–a force that
is never exhausted! And such is God's eternal love to His chosen.
The best of all is that this great deep that lies under, though
unsearchable, immutable and inexhaustible, is, nevertheless,
available! Look, Moses does but smite the Rock and the waters
flow out from the great deep that lies under. Goddoes but speak and
in the wilderness waters leap up and streams in the desert. When
man could not get at the flood underneath, then God made the flood
come welling up for man! And now He has taught man to get at it
and man sets his boring machinery to work and, if he does but
continue long enough, it is very seldom that he does not, at last, tap
God's great wine cellar–the best wine that there ever was–which
He brews up among the everlasting hills to make drink for His
people. And up it comes, always fresh, clear and sweet, as stored
away by God, long ago, and now given out at the touch of man's
industry. Oh, dear Friends, I wish that some of you would come
and drink of the water that is so freely flowing! And those of you
who cannot find it, I want you to begin working with that blessed
boring-machine of prayer, and to keep on working right down
through all the rocks of doubt and fear–boring, and boring, and
boring away till, at last, you come to the Living Water of which
you may have enough to drink forever!
At my Nightingale Lane house, I had a well which produced the
sweetest water I ever drank. It was 460 feet deep. The man who
had it made would have a well sunk only there, so the workmen
dug down 100, 200, 300 feet and they quite despaired of finding
water. But the owner said, "Keep on working. I will bore to the
center of the earth, but I will have the well made, so keep on." And
they did keep on till they reached the enormous depth of 460 feet!
Then, one day the workmen came up to dinner and they never went
down any more–for while they were away the water burst through!
They had left their tools below, but they could never get them up
any more, and they are there now.
I know some people who have a very deep experience and, for a
long time they keep on boring away through all the mud and slush
of their feelings. If this is the case with any of you, I hope that you
will get through that experience very soon and that you will come
to the Living Water. And when it comes rushing up, you will have
to drop your tools and just drink to the full of that which God freely
gives to all who ask for it! You have only to ask and receive! God
grant that you may do so, for Jesus' sake! Amen.
Ge 49:33 • Sermons from Saintly Deathbeds
ERMON 0783
Sermons From Saintly Deathbeds
"And when Jacob had made an end of commanding his sons, he
gathered up his feet into the bed, and yielded up the ghost, and was
gathered unto his people."
Genesis 49:33
JACOB did not yield up the ghost until he had delivered the last
sentence of admonition and benediction to his 12 sons. He was
immortal till his work was done. So long as God had another
sentence to speak by him, death could not paralyze his tongue. Yet,
after all, the strong man was bowed down, and he who had
journeyed with unwearied foot full many a mile, was now obliged
to gather up his feet into the bed to die. His life had been eventful
in the highest degree, but that dread event now came upon him
which is common to us all.
He had deceived his blind father in his youth, but no craftiness of
Jacob could deceive the grave. He had fled from Esau, his angry
brother, but a swifter and surer foot was now in pursuit from which
there was no escape. He had slept with a stone for his pillow and
had seen Heaven opened, but he was to find that it was only to be
entered by the ordinary gate. He had wrestled with the Angel at the
brook Jabbok, and he had prevailed–but this time he was to wrestle
with an angel against whom there was no prevalence. He had dwelt
in Canaan in tents, in the midst of enemies and the Lord had said,
"Touch not My anointed, and do My prophets no harm," and
therefore he had been secure in the midst of a thousand ills.
But now he must fall by the hand of the last enemy, and feel the
great avenger's sword. It was appointed to the Patriarch to die as
meaner men must do. From the wording of the text it appears very
clearly that Israel did not dispute the irrevocable decree, nor did his
soul murmur against it. He had long before learned that few and
evil were his days, and now that they came to an end he joyfully
accepted their conclusion. He was not like a bull dragged to the
slaughter, but he gathered up his feet by a voluntary act of
submission, and then, bowing his head, he yielded up the ghost.
Like a man weary with a long day's toil, he was glad to rest and
therefore most cheerfully he attended to the great Father's
summons, and was peacefully gathered unto his people and his
God.
As this is to be our lot by-and-by, we may contemplate in our
meditations the departure of this mighty man and ask that our death
may be like his, that we, also, may finish our course with joy. May
we–
"So live, that when our summons comes to join
The innumerable caravan that moves
To that mysterious realm, where each shall take
His place appointed by the just decree,
That you, sustained and soothed, approach your grave
Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch
Around him, and lies down to pleasant dreams."
It is remarkable, my Brothers and Sisters, that the Holy Spirit has
given us very few deathbed scenes in the Book of God. We have
very few in the Old Testament, fewer still in the New–and I take it
that the reason may be because the Holy Spirit would have us take
more account of how we live than how we die–for life is the main
business.
He who learns to die daily while he lives will find it no difficulty
to breathe out his soul for the last time into the hands of his faithful
Creator. If we fight the battle well, we may rest assured of the
victory. If, enlisted under the banner of Truth, resting in Jesus
Christ, we finish our fight and keep the faith, we need not fear but
that our entering into rest will be a blessed one. Perhaps the Holy
Spirit would also show us that it is not so much to our profit to
have our feelings harrowed by recitals of dying experiences.
Certain preachers, in their sermons, are very fond of extorting
tears from their hearers by dragging before them the hibiting the
skeletons of buried relatives. This may be of some use–preachers
may have used these scenes to work through the natural affections
to something deeper. But this is not the way the Holy Spirit has
selected. If the teachers of the Gospel will study the Holy Spirit's
model they will learn that we are to strike at conscience rather than
at the natural affections, and teach men holy principles rather than
remind them of their sorrows.
From the great reticence of the Holy Spirit in this matter, I learn
that He would not have us be abundant to superfluity in such
things. Moreover, it may be suggested that the Holy Spirit has
given us few of these deathbed scenes on paper because, being
present with us, He presents them to us frequently in actual flesh
and blood, visible to our eyes and audible to our ears. We are to
look upon the Presence of the Holy Spirit in the witness of dying
men as, in some sense, the continuance of the Holy Spirit's
instructive authorship. He has finished yonder Book written with
paper and ink, but He is writing fresh stanzas to the glory of God in
the deaths of departing saints, who, one by one, are taken from the
evil to come singing the Lord's praises as they depart.
If this is not so, at any rate it is true that we have abundant
testimonies to the faithfulness of God in the departure of those
who, having lived by faith on earth, are now gone to see with their
own eyes the King in His beauty, and the land which is very far off.
During the past week, as most of you know, God has seen fit to
remove from the midst of His Church, a great man and a prince in
Israel, a man greatly beloved–one of the excellent of the earth–an
amiable, zealous, talented, godly, and valiant man esteemed
personally wherever he was known and honored officially
wherever his ministry was enjoyed.
Dr. James Hamilton was one of the most fragrant flowers in the
Lord's garden of sweet flowers to which the Beloved so often
comes to gather lilies. He was not a Boanerges–not after the quality
of Knox and Luther–but a Barnabas, a son of consolation, a man
full of faith and of the Holy Spirit. He had a singular elegance and
refinement of style in which metaphors the most novel and
charming abounded, like golden grains in Africa's sunny fountains!
In his utterances he gave forth a pleasant sound, as of one that
plays well upon a goodly instrument. He was always musical with
harmony of poetic illustration, but always musical with the notes of
Christ–always sweet with the perfume of the atoning blood. He was
a cedar in our Lebanon–bur alas, the axe has laid low his glories.
He was a gem of purest ray serene, but he shines no longer in the
coronet of the Church below. He was a nursingfather to full many
of the Lord's little ones, and now we mourn because they lack his
help–may they find in God's Spirit an abundant supply of all-
sufficient Grace. Well, he is gone from us–and while men are sad,
there is joy beyond the skies! The loss of earth is the gain of
Heaven, and if the Church has somewhat less below, she has more
above. I think I see him at this moment borne upward to his final
resting place as a stone squared and polished, to be built in the wall
of the Temple of the New Jerusalem! Do you hear the shouts of,
"Grace, grace unto it"?
There is a fresh jewel this moment in the Redeemer's crown!
Heaven is lustrous with the beauty of another bloodwashed robe!
Another voice is added to the everlasting song, another shout to the
hallelujahs of those who feast at the eternal banquet! The Church
has lost nothing–she has only seen one of her valiant captains pass
through the flood to join the triumphal band upon the other side.
And as surely as the Church is one, she loses none of her
members–as certain as it is the same Church triumphant and
militant–so certain is it that Christ loses none of His people, and the
Church really none of her strength by death.
The decease of our friend James Hamilton, in connection with
another circumstance of a different character which has happened
to me this week, led my meditations very much to saintly
deathbeds, and I have therefore fastened upon this occasion to talk
with God's people concerning their passage out of this world unto
the Father. " 'Tis greatly wise," says the poet, "to talk with our last
hours." Sacred prudence bids us be familiar with the winding-sheet
and the grave, which must soon be our most intimate
acquaintances. Let us sojourn awhile upon the borders of the land
unknown, to be sobered, at least, if not sanctified.
First, let us consider the departure of great saints, and of God's
ministers in particular–what do these teach us? Secondly, the
various modes of their departure–what do these teach us, also?
First, THE DEPARTURES OF GOD'S SAINTS, AND
ESPECIALLY OF HIS MINISTERS–WHAT ARE THEIR
LESSONS? The first that lies upon the surface is this, "Be you also
ready, for in such an hour as you think not the Son of Man comes."
When in the forest there is heard the crash of a falling oak, it is a
sign that the woodsman is abroad, and every tree in the whole
company may tremble lest soon the sharp edge of the axe should
find it out. We are all mortal, and the death of one should remind us
that death lurks hard by us all.
I trust we do not, by often hearing of death, become callous to it.
May we never be like the birds in the steeple which can build their
nests when the bells are ringing and sleep quietly when the merry
marriage or solemn funeral peals are startling the air. May we
regard death as the most solemn of all events and be sobered by its
approach. In the old wars of the Danish kings there is a legend that
when Harold was contending with his brother Harequin, an arrow
was seen flying in the air, quivering as if it scarcely knew its way,
and was searching for its victim. Then all of a sudden it pierced the
leader's forehead.
A little imagination may picture us as being in the same position
as the Danish lord–the arrow of death is flying for awhile above us,
but its descent is sure and its wound is fatal. It ill behooves us to
laugh and sport while life hangs on a thread. The sword is out of its
scabbard–let us not trifle! It is furbished and the edge sparkles with
fearful sharpness–let us prepare ourselves to meet it! He who does
not prepare for death is more than an ordinary fool–he is a
madman! When the voice of God is calling to us through the
departures of others, if we do not listen to the warning we may
expect Him to follow the rejected word of counsel with a blow of
wrath, for He often strikes down right terribly those who would not
listen to His reproving messages.
Be ready, ministers! See to it that your Church is in good order,
for the grave shall soon be dug for you! Be ready, parents! See that
your children are brought up in the fear of God, for they must soon
be orphans! Be ready, men of business, you that are busy in the
world! See that your affairs are correct–see that you serve God with
all your heart–for the days of your terrestrial service will soon be
ended and you will be called to give account for the deeds done in
the body, whether they are good or whether they are evil. O may
we all prepare for the tribunal of the great King with a care which
shall be rewarded with the commendation, "Well done, good and
faithful servant."
Secondly, the deaths of righteous men should teach us their value.
According to the old saying, we never know the value of things till
we lose them. I am sure it is so with holy men. Let me urge young
people here to prize their aged godly parents, to treat them kindly,
to make their last days happy because they cannot expect to have
them long on earth to receive their tokens of affectionate gratitude.
Those who have Christian parents little know how great is the
privilege they enjoy until they become parents themselves and
learn the cares and sorrows of the mother's office and the father's
state.
Are any of you favored with friends who have given you
instruction in the faith, whose goodly words and holy examples
have helped you on the way to Heaven? Thank God much for such
good company! Be much with them, treasure up the pearls which
drop from their lips. They must soon be gone–value them today as
you will do when they are departed. Are you privileged with an
earnest, faithful, ministry? Do you hear the Gospel lovingly and
honestly proclaimed? Then bless God every day of your life for
that faithful ministry. All ministry is not such–all people are not in
such a case. Be grateful, then, and show your gratitude by giving
earnest heed to the things that are spoken, lest by any means you
should let them slip and so should miss the great salvation through
lack of earnestness.
I do beseech you, dear Friends, value the Christian ministry! I ask
no honor for men, but I do ask honor for the office which Paul said
he would magnify. And wherever you see that God has sent an
ambassador, and that His ambassador is praying for you, in Christ's
stead, to be reconciled to God, turn not away from his entreaties!
Close not your ears to his persuasions, but honor the man's office–
pay homage to the King who sent him by yielding up your heart in
obedience to the Word which is delivered to you.
Furthermore, I think the departures of great saints and those who
have been eminent teach us to pray earnestly to God to send us
more of such–a lesson which, I am quite certain, needs to be
inculcated often. There is sadly little prayer in the Church for the
rising ministry. You pray for those who are your pastors, and
rightly so. "Brethren, pray for us." You cannot do us a better favor.
But there is so little prayer that God would raise up ministers!
Know you not that as surely as the blood of Christ bought the
redemption of His people, as surely as the resurrection of Christ
was for the justification of the saints, so surely the ascension of
Christ was for the distribution of ministry among the sons of men?
Know you not the passage, "He ascended up on high, He led
captivity captive, and gave gifts unto men and He gave [these were
the gifts] some, Apostles; and some, prophets; and some,
evangelists; and some, pastors and teachers"? Now, you plead the
precious blood when you would obtain pardon. You plead the
resurrection and you receive justification. But how seldom do you
plead the ascension, so as to obtain a faithful ministry? Parts of
Christendom are becoming terribly deficient in ministry. I have
been told, and I have read in the literature of America, that in many
parts of the United States one-third of the Churches are devoid of
pastors. Believers are struggling and striving after ministers but
cannot find them. There must have been, in that case, a failure in
the prayer, "Lord, send forth laborers into the harvest."
And I should not at all wonder if such a case should happen to
England, for I see a dreadful lethargy in the hearts of many of
God's people as to the work of praying for preachers and assisting
in training them. In olden times, if any men showed the slightest
ability in speech, the saints sought such out and tried to instruct
them, as Aquila and Priscilla. When they found Apollos, a man
eloquent and mighty in the Scriptures, they took him and instructed
him further. And Paul, when he saw that Timothy was an apt
scholar, instructed him further in the faith. Our blessed Lord not
only preached the Gospel, but founded a college in which He had
12 students (and more than that), who constantly went about with
Him, learning from His example and ministry how themselves to
become teachers of others.
But now, indeed, there are wiseacres who talk about "man-made
ministers" and despise all attempts to assist our youth to become
qualified in the testimony of the Truth of God. May the Lord teach
them reason and give them common sense, but let no Christian give
one single particle of heeding to their prattling. Let it be our earnest
endeavor, both by prayer and every other means, to seek to obtain
from God a succession of earnest, faithful, qualified ministers, for,
say what you will, it is upon the ministry that God shall send you
that which much of the success of the Church must depend.
Those sects which pretend to do without a special ministry (and it
is usually a transparent pretense), may prosper for a little while.
Their setting up every disciple to be a teacher suits the natural pride
of the human heart and Christian men, being grossly deceived,
yield to it for a little while. But I know that not one single one of
these communities can endure throughout a generation in vigorous
existence. With a spasm of excitement and a flush of zeal, they
grow awhile–fattening upon those whom they can decoy from other
churches–and then they dwindle away to nothing, or divide into
little knots, each one agreed in hating the other most fervently.
What is everybody's business is nobody's business, and since there
is no man set to see after souls, no man does see after them. And
the whole flock becomes scattered for lack of a shepherd, who, in
God's hand, might have kept them together.
Faithful servants of the living God, as you prize the Church and
its ordinances, strive with God that as He takes one by one of His
servants away He would send us others that the Church may never
lack her standard-bearers, and the flock of God never be destitute
of pastors after God's own heart. Pray seven times each day that
God may keep alive the name and glory of Christ in the land by
faithful teachers of His Truth!
Yet there is a valuable Truth on the other side. We desire always
to look at both sides of a question. The taking away of eminent
saints from among us should teach us to depend more upon God,
and less upon human instrumentality. I was reading, yesterday, the
dying prayer of Oliver Cromwell and one sentence in that man of
God's last breaths pleased me exceedingly. It was to this effect, I
think. I have copied out the words, "Teach those who look too
much on Your instruments to depend more upon Yourself." Brave
old Oliver was a man upon whom the whole nation rested. He
could say with David, "The earth and all the inhabitants thereof are
dissolved: I bear up the pillars of it."
In a time of terrible anarchy, when men had become fierce with
fanatical prophesies and wild with political passions, Oliver
Cromwell's iron hand restored peace and kept a tumultuous land in
order. And now, when he would be worst missed and could very ill
be spared, he must depart, and this is his prayer–"Teach them to
depend less upon Your instrument, and more upon Yourself."
You may have observed that frequently, when a man is in the
zenith of his power, and people have said, "That is the man who of
all others we could least afford to lose," that very man has been
taken away. That special light has been quenched. That particular
pillar has been removed. The Lord would have all the glory given
unto His own name. He has said it, said it often in a voice of
thunder, but men will not hear it–"All power belongs unto God."
He will honor and bless an instrumentality, for that is His mode of
working, but He will not divide the crown with the most honored
agency. He will have all the glory redound unto Himself–and by
frequently breaking up His battle axes and weapons of war He
teaches His Church that He can fight with His own bare arms and
win the victory Himself without any instrument of warfare.
Coming back, however, to the old thought–do you not think that
the departure of eminent saints should teach each one of us to work
with more earnestness and perseverance while we are spared? One
soldier less in the battle, my Brethren–then you must fill up the
vacancy–you who stand next in the ranks must close up, shoulder
to shoulder, that there be no gap. Here is one servant the less in the
house–the other servants must do more work. It is but natural for us
to argue so, because we wish the Master's work to be done, and it
will not be done without hands. If we do not preach the Gospel,
angels will not preach it! If we do not win souls for God, we must
not expect cherubim and seraphim to engage in this Divine
employment. Somebody must do it, and, since we would have all
done that can be done, you and I must do the more when helpers
are removed!
There is one hand less–we must stretch out our hands more often
to execute the sacred work. Behold, a reaper falls in the corner of
the field and all the harvest must be gathered in before the season is
past! Brothers, sharpen your sickles, gather up your strength, toil
more hours in the day, throw more strength into your toil–above all,
pray for a greater blessing upon what is done! If there is less bread,
then we must have a larger benediction to multiply it, to make it
sufficient for the tens of thousands! If there are fewer laborers, we
must ask the Master to give those laborers more strength, that the
work may still be done and nothing be marred for lack of effort.
I wish I had the strength, this morning, mental and physical
combined, to urge this upon you as I have strived to urge it upon
myself. I have sought before the Lord that He would teach me to
live an active, earnest, laborious, heavenly life. Very few of us
understand what life is. Baxter at Kidderminster, from morning to
night spending and being spent for the Master's service! Whitfield,
all over England and America, toiling and laboring without the
thought of rest, instant in season and out of season! These are the
men we should emulate. But, alas, we do a little and then we fold
our hands with ridiculous self-satisfaction. Now and then we
arouse ourselves to something like zeal–and then we fall back into
a state of carelessness.
It ought not to be! With diligence and perseverance we ought to
live as having death in view and the near approach of the time
when the night comes where no man can work. I must leave those
lessons with you. I cannot enforce them. Only the Holy Spirit can.
II. Come with me to the second part of my discourse. Much may
be learned from the MODES OF DEPARTURE of God's servants.
All Believers fall asleep in Jesus and in Him they are all saved. The
precious blood has washed them. The hands of Christ keep them.
The earnest of the Spirit is with them and the everlasting gates are
opened to receive them. But unto them all there is not ministered
the same abundant entrance into the kingdom. Neither do all their
faces shine with those gleams of glory which rest upon the highly
favored.
To some of God's own children the dying bed is a Bochim, a
place of weeping. It is melancholy when such is the case, and yet it
is often so with those who have been negligent servants. They are
saved, but so as by fire–they struggle into the Port of Peace. Their
entrance is like that of a weather-beaten vessel which has barely
escaped the storm. It enters into harbor leaking so terribly as to be
ready to founder–without her cargo–for she has thrown that
overboard to escape the waves. Her sails are torn to ribbons, her
masts gone by the board, barely able to keep afloat. Thousands
enter into Glory as Paul and his companions in peril landed at
Melita–some on boards, and some on broken pieces of the ship. All
come safe to land, but it is as it were by the skin of their teeth.
In the dying beds of some Believers that text is sadly illustrated,
"If the righteous scarcely are saved." We have known them lying
on the brink of eternity, bemoaning themselves after this
fashion–"God has forgiven me, but how can I forgive myself? I am
saved, but, oh, that I had made a profession of religion more plainly
and boldly! Would God that I had not been so slow in serving my
Master! I have prayed so little, given so little, done so little. I am a
most unprofitable servant. Woe is me, for I have been busy here
and there, and have forgotten my life's work. I have made money,
but have won no jewels for Christ. I have taken care of my family,
but alas, I have done next to nothing for the cause of Christ.
"I shall have no means of serving the cause of God when I enter
Heaven. I cannot then succor the poor, feed the hungry, or clothe
the naked or send the Gospel to the ignorant. I might have done
much when I was in health and strength, but now I can do little or
nothing for I am weak and languishing upon this bed. Would to
God that my Sabbaths had profited me more, and that I had walked
more in nearness to God." Such dolorous heart-breaking
confessions have we heard, varied occasionally by the lament,
"Would to God I had brought up my children better, for now I am
obliged to say with David, 'My house is not so with God,' though I
know that He has made with me an Everlasting Covenant, ordered
in all things and sure."
Many a dying pillow has been wet with the penitential tears of
saints who have, then, fully seen their formerly unobserved
shortcomings and failures and laxities in the family, in the business,
in the Church and in the world. Brethren, it is beautiful to see the
repentance of a dying saint–travel far as you may, you will not
readily behold a more comely spectacle. I have seen it, and have
breathed the prayer, "Lord, give me a humble and contrite spirit,
like that which I see before me, and help me now to feel the like
brokenness of heart."
Yet at the sight of such instances it has struck me that the fruit,
though precious, was scarcely seasonable. It must be acceptable to
God for He never rejects repentance anywhere, but yet a brighter
state of soul would have glorified Him more in dying moments. We
regret to see mourning of soul as the most conspicuous feature in a
departing Brother. We desire to see joy and confidence clearly
manifested at the last. We are glad to see contrition anywhere
because it is evermore a lovely work of the Spirit, but we should
have preferred to see it sooner–when regrets would not have been
unavailing, when the repentance would have brought forth practical
fruit in a change of life.
I say, thank God if there is a deep repentance on the dying bed,
but this is not the highest or best thing. To enter into life halt or
maimed is not the grandest or most comely mode of departing out
of this life into another. To die in the dark with Jesus is safe, but to
have light at the last is better. We remember reading of a popular
minister, (and the reading of it has struck through our heart), who,
when he was dying, said to those about him, "I die in great
bitterness of mind, for I have been one of the most admired trees in
God's vineyard. And yet when I look back upon my past life I fear I
have brought forth many blossoms and many leaves, but very little
fruit unto God's glory."
Ah, it will go hard with us ministers if we have to sorrow thus in
our last hours! You Sunday school teachers, and other beloved
laborers for Christ–I trust you will not have to cry at the last, "Our
harvest is past, and our summer is ended, and none of our children
are saved! Oh that we had talked to our boys and girls more
solemnly! Oh that we had entreated them with tears to flee from the
wrath to come!" I pray God that such may not be your dying
lamentations, but that each one of us may live for God at the rate
which eternity will justify.
When Zeuxis, the old painter, was taking much pains with his
painting–pausing over every tint and touch–they asked him why he
worked so carefully. He answered. "I paint for eternity." So let us
take good heed in all that we do for God–not offering to Him that
which costs us nothing, nor going out to His service at random–
without prayer for His blessing and fitness for His work. Let us
take earnest heed to ourselves that we live for eternity–for so shall
we wish to have lived when we come to die.
It has not infrequently occurred that the dying scene has been to
the Lord's departing champions a battle, not perhaps by reason of
any slips or shortcomings–far from it–for in some cases the conflict
appeared to arise by very reason of their valor in the Lord's service.
Who among us would assert that Martin Luther failed to live up to
the light and knowledge which he had received? So far as he knew
the Truth of God, I believe he most diligently followed it. Beyond
most men he was true to conscience. He knew comparatively little
of the Truth, but what he did know he maintained with all his heart,
and soul, and strength. And yet it is exceedingly painful to read the
record of Luther's last few days.
Darkness was round about him. Thick clouds and tempest
enveloped his soul. At the last the sky cleared, but it is very evident
that among all the grim battles in which that mighty German fought
and conquered, probably the most tremendous conflict of his life
was at its close. Can we not guess the reason? Was it not because
the devil knew him to be his worst enemy, then, upon the earth and
therefore, hating him with the utmost power of infernal hate, and
feeling that this was his last opportunity for assaulting him, he
gathered up all his diabolical powers and came in against him like a
flood, thinking that maybe he might at the last overcome the stout
heart and cow the valiant spirit?
Only by Divine assistance did Luther win the victory, but win it
he did! Is this form of departure to be altogether deprecated? I
think not. It is to be dreaded in some aspects, though not in others,
for is it not a noble thing for the knight of the Cross to die in
harness? A blessed thing for the Christian soldier to proceed at once
from the battlefield to his eternal rest? The like was the case with
John Knox, the Scottish Luther, whose bold spirit feared the face of
no man. He was beset with a temptation which seemed a strange
one to trouble him, namely, a temptation to self-righteousness. He
had always denounced all trust in works and yet that error assaulted
him at the last. He had a long and bitter conflict, though it ended in
joyful victory.
It has been quaintly said that, "Sometimes God puts His children
to bed in the dark." When our heavenly Father sends the rider upon
the pale horse to fetch us home from the school of this life's
tribulation, he comes riding down the street making such a clangor
with his horse hoofs that we are alarmed–until we come to know
that he is sent by our Father–and then we are glad. God permits the
Jordan to overflow its banks when some of His best children are
passing through, for He designs to magnify His Grace in the last
trial of their faith, and thus to show to men and angels, and devils
who are looking on, how He can triumph in His servants when
flesh and heart are failing.
Beloved, I think these instances are rare compared with others
which I am now to mention. To many saints their departure has
been a peaceful entrance into the fair haven of repose. The very
weakest of God's servants have frequently been happiest in their
departing moments. John Bunyan observed this fact in the
description of Mr. Feeble-Mind's passage of the river, "Here also I
took notice of what was very remarkable. The water of that river
was lower at this time than ever I saw it in all my life. So he went
over at last wet not much above his ankles."
Heaven's mercy tempers the wind to the shorn lamb, and gives to
babes no battle because they have no strength for it–the lambs
calmly rest on the bosom of Jesus and breathe out their lives in the
Shepherd's arms. What encouragement this ought to be to you who
are the tender ones among us! What cheering tidings for you who
are weak in faith! Like Mr. Ready-to-Halt, you shall cry, "Now, I
shall have no more need of these crutches, since yonder are
chariots and horses for me to ride on."
There died a few weeks ago one who may be known to some of
you by name, Mr. James Upton, late pastor of the church in Cotton
Street. He was more than 25 years laid aside from the ministry by a
most terrible depression of spirit which caused him one long
unbroken night of soul. He could not engage in any form of
devotional exercise so frightfully was he depressed in spirit–
doubtless by some form of mental derangement. But during the last
few hours of his life, when he was speechless and could therefore
give no verbal testimony, the gloom which had always been
manifested in his countenance was removed and he was evidently,
at the last, enjoying profound peace of mind.
If God does not take away melancholy from the Believer till the
last, He will at the last. If He suffers His people to live for years in
winter, their summer shall begin at the last hour. When the death
damp is heaviest, then shall the light burn the brightest, and, as the
body decays and weakens, the soul shall arise in her strength!
Many of the saints have gone farther than this, for their deathbeds
have been pulpits. Not to all of them was it so given, for Mr.
Whitfield desired to bear a dying testimony for Christ, but did not
do so, somebody remarking to him, "You have borne so many
living testimonies to so many thousands that your Master wants no
dying testimony of you." If you have read Brainerd's Journal, what
wonderful things he speaks of there when all his last thoughts were
delightfully fixed upon eternity and the world to come! Thus he
wrote in his diary, "Oh, how sweet were the thoughts of death to
me at this time! Oh, how I longed to be with Christ, to be employed
in the glorious work of angels, and with an angel's freedom, vigor,
and delight." At another time he wrote, " 'Tis sweet to me to think
of eternity, but oh, what shall I say to the eternity of the wicked? I
cannot mention it or think of it! The thought is too dreadful!" His
thoughts, however, were all taken up with the joyful eternity
belonging to Believers into which he entered with holy triumph.
Then there was that dear man of God, Mr. Payson. His last
expressions were weighty sermons. He says, "I suppose, speaking
within bounds, I have suffered 20 times as much as any martyr that
was ever burnt at the stake through the painfulness of my disease.
And yet, frequently, day after day, my joy in God has so abounded
as to render my sufferings not only tolerable but welcome." When
Mr. Matthew Henry was dying, Mr. Illidge came to him and he
said, "You have been used to take notice of the sayings of dying
men. This is mine, 'A life spent in the service of God and in
communion with Him is the most pleasant life that anyone can live
in the world.' "
Well spoken! Our pulpits often lack force and power. Men
suppose that we speak but out of form and custom, but they do not
suspect dying men of hypocrisy, nor think that they are driving a
trade and following a profession. Hence the witness of dying saints
has often become powerful to those who have stood around their
couch. Careless hearts have been impressed. Slumbering
consciences have been awakened and children of God quickened to
greater diligence by what they have heard!
Brethren, do you never find dying beds to be thrones of
judgment? Have you never seen the hoary saint stayed upon the
pillows prophesying like a seer concerning the things of this world
and of the world to come? Have you never heard him deliver
sentences as weighty as the verdict of a judge? "What?" says he,
"What are all these earthly things to me now, now that I am about
to leave them? They are all bubbles and emptinesses." Solomon in
his life could not moralize with such force as holy men do in their
deaths. And then, as they point the finger to eternity and tell of
worlds to come, and of the need of being prepared for the
tremendous day of the great assize, they appear as if, clothed in
their white raiment, they were performing a rehearsal of the last
dread judgment!
Many who care not for the voice of the ministry, nor even for the
witness of God's written Word, have felt the power of the speeches
of men standing on the borders of eternity. And, Brethren, to bring
this to a close, lest I should weary you, we have known not
infrequent cases (no, commonly this is the case), when the dying
bed has become a Pisgah, from the top of which the saint has
viewed his inheritance while his couch has glowed all of a sudden
into the chariot of Amminadab–a flaming chariot such as that in
which Elijah was borne away to dwell with God! Saints have
frequently been in such triumphant conditions of mind that rapture
and ecstasy are the only fit words in which to describe their state.
"If this is dying," said one, "it is worthwhile living for the mere
sake of dying!"
Dr. Payson, in his dying hours, wrote to his sister, "Were I to
adopt the figurative language of Bunyan, I should date this letter
from the land of Beulah of which I have been for some weeks a
happy inhabitant. The Celestial City is full in my view. Its glories
beam upon me, its odors are wafted to me, its sounds strike upon
my ears and its spirit is breathed into my heart. Nothing separates
me from it but the river of Death which now appears but as an
insignificant stream that may be crossed at a single step, whenever
God shall give permission.
"The Sun of Righteousness has gradually been drawing nearer
and nearer, appearing larger and brighter as He approached. And
now He fills the whole hemisphere, pouring forth a flood of glory
in which I seem to float as an insect in the beams of the sun,
exulting, yet almost trembling, while I gaze on this excessive
brightness, and wondering, with unutterable wonder, that God
should deign thus to shine upon a sinful worm. A single heart and a
single tongue seem altogether inadequate to my needs–I want a
whole heart for every separate emotion, and a whole tongue to
express that emotion."
It has been sometimes said these excitements are produced by
delirium or caused by drugs, yet there are multitudes of clear cases
in which men have had no delirium and have been altogether
untouched by drugs. Take the case of Halyburton, who said, "I
know that a great deal from a dying man will go for canting and
raving. But I bless God, He has kept the judgment I had, that I have
been able to reflect with composure on His dealings with me. I am
sober and composed, if ever I was so. You may believe a man
venturing on eternity. I have weighed eternity this last night–I have
looked on death as stripped of all things pleasant to nature–and
under the view of all these, I have found that in the way of God
they gave satisfaction–a rational satisfaction that makes me
rejoice."
Halyburton, indeed, broke forth into such ecstatic expressions that
I fear to quote them, lest I should spoil them! Among his words
were these, "If ever I was distinct in my judgment and memory in
my life, it is since He laid His hands upon me. My bones are
sticking through my skin, and yet all my bones are praising Him. O
Death, where is your sting? O Grave, where is your victory? I am
now a witness for Christ, and for the reality of religion. I have
peace in the midst of pain! And oh, how much of that I have had
for a time past! My peace has been like a river–not a discomposed
thought. Strange that this body is going away to corruption, and yet
my intellectuals are so lively that I cannot say there is the least
alteration, the least decay of judgment or memory. Such are the
vigorous acts of my spirit towards God and things that are not
seen."
When drawing near his end, one remarked to him, "Blessed are
they that die in the Lord." He replied, "When I fall so low that I
cannot speak, I'll show you a sign of triumph if I am able." And
when he could no longer speak, he lifted up his hands, clapped
them as in token of victory, and in a little while departed to the land
where the weary are at rest. Oh, it is grand to die like this! To get
Heaven here below in foretastes! To partake of dainty dishes
brought from off the tables of immortals! To stay our souls while
lingering here! This shall be your portion, and this shall be my
portion, if we are faithful unto death, continuing diligent in service.
I have already told you if we believe in Christ, we shall die safely,
but we may not necessarily die in this triumph–this blessing is
given to those who are faithful, earnest and diligent–a special
reward which God reserves to some men who, like Daniel, are
greatly beloved, or who, like John, are indulged with special
visions of the New Jerusalem before entering upon the scene!
Brethren, as I close my sermon I can but utter the present
yearning of my ardent spirit –
"Oh, if my Lord would come and meet.
My soul should stretch her wings in haste,
Fly fearless through death's iron gate,
Nor feel the terrors as she passed."
Ex 1:10-12 • Prosperity Under Persecution
ERMON 0997
Prosperity Under Persecution
"Come on let us deal wisely with them; lest they multiply, and it
come to pass, that, when there falls out any war, they join also unto
our enemies, and fight against us, and so get them up out of the
land. Therefore they did set over them taskmasters to afflict them
with their burdens. And they built for Pharaoh treasure cities,
Pithom and Raamses. But the more they afflicted them, the more
they multiplied and grew."
Exodus 1:10-12
THE children of this world are wise in their generation. Their
policy may be short-sighted and their stratagems crooked,
nevertheless the world admires the wisdom of their counsels, and
makes light of the craftiness of their projects. In their opposition to
the Christian Church the men of the world might certainly have
been as well able to outwit her by the variety of their maneuvers as
to overwhelm her by the force of their numbers were it not that
there is an unseen One in her midst who is more than a match for
the guile of their hearts and the might of their hosts. Looking back
at the early struggles of the Hebrew race to gain a footing among
the nations, it is very clear that had the contest been merely
between Pharaoh and Israel, the Egyptian king could exercise
power and policy enough to defeat the sons of Jacob and reduce
them to serfdom.
But when a new name is brought in, and the contest appears to be
truly between Pharaoh and Jehovah, the God of Israel, it is quite
another matter–and a far different issue may be counted upon.
There is One behind the curtain that takes Israel's part. He sees
through all Pharaoh's plots. Before his thoughts have ripened into
plans they are forestalled. As fast as they are set up, they are upset.
For every intrigue there is a reprisal. Thus He takes the wise in
their own craftiness. The whole history of the long feud between
the seed of the woman and the seed of the serpent illustrates the
subtlety of the serpent's seed, and the simplicity of the woman's
seed.
But still more does it bring to light the infinite wisdom of Him
who rules the seed of the woman. And who will, in the end, bruise
the serpent's head and give unto His people and the cause they
have espoused a complete triumph. Whatever has been done by the
enemies in rage or in recklessness, God has always met it calmly
and quietly. He has shown Himself ready for every emergency. And
He has not only baffled and utterly defeated all the inventions of
wicked men, but He has turned their strange devices to good
account–for the development of His own sovereign purposes.
He has made His enemies work for Him, aiding the enterprise
they eschewed–He has turned their curse into a blessing–He has
made evil productive of good–He has extracted sweetness out of
their bitter spleen, and distilled healthful medicine out of their
deadly animosity. He has His way in the whirlwind–the clouds are
the dust of His feet. He does not only meet evil with good, but He
takes the evil and subjects it to His own eternal purpose. And from
it He brings forth a course of events that results in His own Glory,
the benefit of His children, and the fulfillment of their destiny.
Of this general principle we shall now proceed to consider three
special illustrations. First, the circumstances of the children of
Israel. Secondly, the history of the Church of Christ. Thirdly, the
experience of individual Christians.
IN THE CASE OF ISRAEL, it did seem to be a deep-laid plot,
very political and crafty, indeed, that as the kings of Egypt,
themselves of an alien race, had subdued the Egyptians, they
should prevent the other alien race, the Israelites, from conquering
them. Instead of murdering them wholesale, it did seem a wise,
though a cruel thing, to make them slaves. To divide them up and
down the country. To subject them to toil till their spirits were
broken. To appoint them to the most menial work in the land that
they might be crushed down and their spirits become so base that
they would not dare to rebel.
Thus we may suppose it was hoped that their physical strength
would be so relaxed, and their circumstances so reduced, that the
clan would soon be insignificant if not utterly extinct. But God met
and overruled this policy in various ways. "The more they afflicted
them, the more they multiplied." The census proved the error of
their calculation. The cause looked likely, but it was not productive
of the consequence expected. Had it been another people, the
tactics might have been successful. But they were God's people,
endeared to Him by their ancestry, ennobled in His sight by their
Covenant destiny and encompassed with His favor as with a shield.
No conspiracy formed against them could thrive. And so it came
to pass that like certain herbs which spring up when trod down, or
like certain trees that grow taller if loaded with weights, Israel rose
superior to all her disadvantages. "The more they afflicted them,
the more they multiplied and grew." The glory of God shines forth
conspicuously in the use to which He turned the persecutions they
endured. The severe treatment they had to bear from the enemy
became to them a salutary discipline. This comes of the Lord of
Hosts, who is wonderful in counsel and excellent in working.
From that time the children of Israel began to feel a disgust with
Egypt. They had settled down very quietly in Goshen and thought
that it was their rest. They had imbibed much of the manners and
customs of the Egyptians. We have it on record that they
worshipped the gods of Egypt. They seemed greatly to have
appreciated what they afterwards called the luxuries of the land–the
leeks, the garlic, the onions, the melons and the cucumbers. They
appear to have been almost naturalized to that country.
They were little better than Egyptians. Perhaps persons traveling,
except by certain tones of language and contour of countenance,
would scarcely have known but what they were descendants of
Ham. But now their masters treat them cruelly and they loathe the
Egyptians. They are scattered up and down throughout the land,
and Goshen is no longer dear to them. They are treated like
strangers, and they feel they are strangers. Now that they hear from
morning till night the taskmaster's oaths and the crack of the cruel
whips–and are subjected to incessant toil and bondage–they think
far less of Egypt than they used to do.
This is what the Lord designed. He never intended that His
people, Israel, should be absorbed into any other family. He never
meant them to be other than sojourners on that soil. He had some
better thing for them than that they should dwell in that land and be
as the heathen were. God was thus answering one purpose. And He
did more than this. Now they began to remember, as their bondage
waxed more and more severe, the God of their fathers whom they
had forgotten.
I have reminded you that they had fallen into the worship of the
gods of Egypt. But now they turn with abhorrence from the gods of
their oppressors and they think themselves of the Covenant which
Jehovah had made with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob–and they betook
themselves to their knees. In secret they utter their groanings before
the Most High, and when their taskmasters make them smart, they
lift their eyes, suffused with bitter tears, and silently appeal to
Heaven, to the God of their fathers, that He would have mercy
upon them. They had forgotten to pray until then. The mass of them
had been unused to call upon the name of the Lord.
But now the scourge drives them to seek help from above. Their
terrors, their pains, their griefs, and their vexations compel them to
lift up that cry to Heaven which came into the ears of Jehovah and
moved His hands to help them. More than that, remember that it
was necessary for this people to be altogether rescued from that
land which for many a year had taxed their labor and bounded their
enterprise–because it was not the land which had been promised
them as an inheritance.
It was God's intention and Covenant purpose to give them the
Land of Canaan, a land that flowed with milk and honey. But it is
not very easy to induce a nation, numbering some millions, to leave
a country in which they have been born and nourished and found a
home. Only some very fearful evil can induce them to expatriate
themselves. Had Moses gone to the children of Israel before the
time of their bondage, and said, "Up! Get you from here unto the
land which the Lord swears that He will give you," he would have
seemed to them as one that mocked–they would have laughed him
to scorn.
In order to cut loose the bonds that bound them to Egypt, the
sharp knife of affliction must be used. And Pharaoh, though he
knew it not, was God's instrument in weaning them from the
Egyptian world, and helping them as His Church to take up their
separate place in the wilderness and receive the portion which God
had appointed for them. Once more–and here you may see the
wisdom of God–the very means which Pharaoh devised for the
effectual crushing of the people–the destruction of the male
children–became the direct, no, the Divine provision for educating
a deliverer for them.
Moses had never been, in all probability, trained in the courts of
Pharaoh if he had not been put in the basket of bulrushes on the
brink of the Nile. And his mother would certainly never have put
him there if there had not been a pitiless edict that the male
children should be put to death. Moved by maternal instinct to save
her child, and moved by faith in God not to obey the king's
command, she places her child in the ark. Pharaoh's daughter finds
the child, has compassion on it because of its cries, extricates it
from peril, loves it fondly, adopts it capriciously, and educates it in
the very court of Pharaoh!
That child grows up to be the man who should vex the fields of
Zoan–the man of God, who with a high hand and an outstretched
arm would lead forth the slaves of Egypt to become a great nation
which God should bless. So you see the Lord, in all points, meets
Pharaoh and foils him. This Pharaoh was the great representative in
those days of the power of evil, and he stands still to the Christian
Church as the type of the seed of the serpent. But the Lord
withstands him, despoils him of his purpose, and turns all he does
to the very highest and best end. Such is the narrative full of
instruction, and charged with portent that serves as a type of the
Lord's doing when He makes bare His arm for the salvation of His
own heritage.
II. Let us now carry the same thought a stage farther and take a
brief survey of THE HISTORY OF THE CHILDREN OF GOD.
The like means will appear in manifold operation. Men meditate
mischief but it miserably miscarries. God grants protection to the
persecuted and provides an escape from the most perilous
exposure. Full often the dark conspiracy is brought to the direst
confusion. No sooner does Christ gather a Church in any place, be
it a renowned empire or a paltry village, than opposition is stirred
up.
"If you were of the world, the world would love his own: but
because you are not of the world, but I have chosen you out of the
world, therefore the world hates you." "I will put enmity between
you and the woman, and between your seed and her seed," is the
first check for the serpent's wiles, the first ray of hope for his
helpless victims. And the prediction will continue to be fulfilled till
at last, according to the Word of the Lord, the tares are bound in
bundles to burn and the wheat is gathered into His garner.
Whenever there has been a great persecution raised against the
Christian Church, God has overruled it, as He did in the case of
Pharaoh's oppression of the Israelites, by making the aggrieved
community more largely to increase. The early persecutions in
Judea promoted the spread of the Gospel. After the death of
Stephen, the disciples were all scattered abroad throughout the
regions of Judea and Samaria, except the Apostles, the result is thus
given–"Therefore they that were scattered abroad went everywhere
preaching the Word."
So, too, when Herod stretched forth his hands to vex certain of
the Church, and killed James, the brother of John, with the sword.
What came of it? Why Luke tells us in almost the same words that
Moses had used–"The Word of God grew and multiplied." Those
terrible and bloody persecutions under the Roman Emperor by no
means stayed the progress of the Gospel–but strangely enough
seemed to press forward for the crown of martyrdom. The Church
probably never increased at a greater ratio than as when her foes
were most fierce to assail and most resolute to destroy her.
It was so in after times. The Reformation in this country and
throughout Europe never went on so prosperously as when it was
most vigorously opposed. You shall find in any individual Church
that wherever evil men have conspired together, and a storm of
opposition has burst forth against the saints, the heart of the Lord
has been moved with compassion and the hand of the Lord has
been raised to succor. We have come to look upon opposition as an
omen of good, and persecution for righteousness' sake as a tearful
seed-time, quickly to be followed by a harvest of joy!
We have looked on our adversaries, though they seemed like
stormy petrels, as being the index of a favorable wind to the good
boat of Christ's Church. Persecution seems to be the wave that,
when it leaps up around her, speeds her course. Let the mountains
be removed and cast into the midst of the sea. But after long
experience of Jehovah's faithfulness towards His people, we are
confident that His Church shall not be moved–in quietude shall she