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8—THE SHINING SUMMIT
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FOR us to climb—who are we that we should hope to climb? What is man, “this weed which a sunbeam withers”? And yet he must climb or perish. He could stay in the but within sight of the peak, walk in the path with the mountain in view, sit on the rocks on the bank and gaze at ease at that upsoaring beautiful thing, and enjoy it without stirring a yard, without an ache, or a strain, or a dazed, parched minute. But that would not be life. To grovel is not to live. “The whitest, purest, holiest heights of the spirit” call us, and will not be refused. We are deaf adders indeed if we do not hear that call.
After Everest and the giants of the earth, the Matterhorn may look small, but that mountain is no hillock, and many a man has seen it as a finger pointing steadfastly upward. Little ends and low imaginations cannot live in the presence of that white pyramid.
For “Love will be above, not detained with any low things”; her prayer is always to be set free from every detaining desire and reluctance; and she sees in each new day “the day of the grace of God that brings for us the discipline of renunciation,”{7} the renunciation of the runner who lays aside every weight, stripping from himself all that would hinder his race.
This discipline appears in many forms.
The scholar had hoped to add a few grains to the precious heap of the world’s knowledge, but the demands of life leave no time for that. The loving heart had hoped to lighten many burdens, but illness or poverty sweeps that hope away. Still more private hopes had been cherished; these must be laid aside, and now it has nothing to give but love. It often happens that the Christian is asked to renounce the things that were his meat and marrow. And he is not told why. “The lover lost a jewel which he greatly prized, and was sorely distressed, until his Beloved put to him this question: ‘Which profiteth thee more, the jewel that thou hadst or thy patience in all the acts of thy Beloved?”‘
And there is for some a discipline of renunciation of natural desires in the daily acceptance of deprivations of various kinds, and in peacefulness in crippled conditions, limitations and frustrations, such as St. Paul’s when he was the Lord’s bondman. And there is that inner renunciation of the will in very little things, which no eye sees but God’s.
It is to this discipline of renunciation that we are called, if indeed our hearts are set on the heights; and there must be no complaining in our streets. The word is always Unto all patience and longsuffering with joyfulness—there we see the shining summit clear against the sky. “For if there had been anything more better or more profitable to man than to suffer, Christ would verily have showed it by word and example. Drink the chalice of our Lord affectionately, if thou desire to be His friend and to have part with Him. Consolations commit to God; do He therewith as it pleaseth Him.”
There comes a time when the personal falls from us and we cease from the weariness of being entangled and encumbered in ourselves, and do with all our hearts desire to be perpetually lifted up in spirit above ourselves. But the trouble of a loved one can throw us into a fever of agitation. And yet to lose our peace is to lose our power to help. The energies which might have been turned to power are wasted in effectless grieving. Our very thoughts by their teasing reiteration, like low, eager voices that will not stop talking, tire us out.
Were half the breath so vainly spent,
To heaven in supplication sent,
Thy thankful cry would oftener be,
“See what the Lord has done for me.”
The simple words of this Olney hymn cling to memory when greater are forgotten.
If we are to pray we must turn from fear and turmoil. Job could do nothing for his friends until his own heart was at rest. In one sense, there can be no peace while anything on earth is sinful or suffers:
Earth, heaven shall pass away
Ere for your passionless peace we pray,
Are ye deaf to the trumpets that call us today?
Blind to the blazing swords?
But there is a peace that must be ours if we are to prevail. “Peace I leave with you, My peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.” The peace of our Lord Jesus was never a passionless peace.