Five: With Christ In Separation.
Five: With Christ In Separation.
THE BIBLE RINGS with the cry for separation. Those words, Divide! Divide! so often heard in the English House of Commons, compelling every man to take a side, speak through its pages, from those earliest verses which tell how God divided the light from the darkness.
This call came to Abraham, bidding him to get out from country and kindred and father's house; to Moses as the bugle note of the Exodus; to the tribe of Levi, mustering them at the gate of the camp; to the children of Israel, as they languished in Babylon, bidding them return to their fatherland; and along the resounding aisles of the New Testament Church, these words reechoed: "Come out from among them, and be ye separate, saith the Lord, and touch not the unclean thing; and I will receive you, and will be a Father unto you," " Come out of her, my people, that ye be not partakers of fur sins, and that ye receive not of her plagues" (II Cor. vi: 17, and Rev. xviii: 4).
WHAT IS THAT SEPARATION TO WHICH WE ARE CALLED?
There are many counterfeits, against which we do well to be on our guard.
It is not the separation of the monk. This has ever fascinated noble minds. For like-minded men to go off together to some sequestered vale, protected from the storms that sweep across the world; to build for themselves homes and temples, and mingle their toils with holy meditation and prayer; welcoming the daybreak with matins, and greeting with vesper hymns the first couriers of the starry host; such was the dream that stirred the imagination of saintly hearts in the Middle Ages. And something like this filled the Mayflower with the Pilgrim Fathers, and peopled the Black Forest with colonies of Moravian settlers.
Such separation, however attractive, can not be the separation of Christ. He solemnly prayed that we might not be taken out of the world; yea, He expressly sent us into the world. And what would become of it if we were all to withdraw from its life? Night without a star; a rock-bound coast without a lighthouse-beam raying out into the murky gloom; a vessel drifting on the rocks without a watch on deck; a carcass corrupting in midsummer without salt! No, this can not be the separation to which we are called.
It is not the separation of the Pharisee. The Pharisees held that a man could be religious without being good. He might be full of extortion and excess, if only he washed the outside of cup and platter; full of dead men's bones, if only he appeared clean as a whitewashed sepulchre. In their judgment, therefore, impurity was not a matter of inward evil, but communicated by a touch. To be touched by a man who had not washed since eating would be sufficient to defile the stately Pharisee.
Our Lord forever broke down these unrighteous distinctions. He taught not only by speech, but by action, that impurity is not communicated by contact, but is nurtured in the heart, and bred in act and speech. He did not wash after His meals; He ate with publicans and sinners; He let a fallen woman weep at His feet; He touched the bleared eye of blindness, the tied tongue of dumbness, the polluted flesh of the leper. Repeatedly we are told that He stretched forth His hand and touched.
And is not this what the world wants? It needs hand-help-the touch of the King. We shall never be able to help men by simply looking on them or exhorting them; we must touch them. Those lily-white, delicate, jewelled hands which may turn this page must be yielded to Christ, that He may use them and work through them His miracles of mercy in our weary age. And such contact will not defile. Pitch is a disinfectant; so far from defiling, it will tend to promote our love for purity, when we dare the contact in the name of Christ and for the welfare of a dying world.
It is not the separation of the Stoic. The Puritans were not entirely free from this mistake. For them the world was a great howling wilderness; laughter and mirth, signs of an unregenerate soul; their scheme of life too narrow and severe to admit of those lighter and softer passages which relieve its strain and draw out the tenderer sentiments of human hearts.
Against this, Christ's life was a perpetual protest. He mingled with wedding guests, smiled at the children as they played in the market places and called to their fellows, directed the attention of the crowds to the beauties of the flowers and the habits of the birds, noticed the sunrise hues and evening tints, and lived as a man amongst them. However severe He might be to the formalists of His time, He had ever a warm heart toward what was natural and human. Let us not forget the command, " Thou shalt rejoice in every good thing which the Lord thy God giveth thee," and let us cultivate the habit of extracting joy and blessing from all the innocent and beautiful things around us.
THE NECESSITY OF ANSWERING THIS QUESTION IS REALLY URGENT.
It is a pressing question. Hundreds of young Christians are asking what they should do or avoid; and in so many cases, for want of a clear principle, begin to drift; the bloom passes off the basket of summer fruit, and when once gone, can never be replaced. It is a pertinent question, especially at those seasons of the year when the dark evenings afford such abundant opportunities for the dance, the ball, the theatre, and the opera.
It is also a perplexing question, because good people are found on such opposite sides, and give answers, wide as the poles asunder, to the various questions with which they are plied. Some forbid the theatre, but allow the opera. Some have no objection to the children's pantomime, but are horrified at the proposal to see an ordinary play. Some would go to see Shaksperean plays, but would not go to others. Some distinguish between a dance and a ball.
What is the result? Christian ministers frequent theaters. Professing Christians give dancing-parties not far removed from balls. Funds for religious purposes are raised by private theatricals. Our young people are perpetually loosening the restraints by which they are held, pressing outward the fences which divide them from the world, taking in new lengths of territory, and fretting against restraint.
Are there no self-acting principles, so that each individual soul may decide for itself these difficult, doubtful, and perilous problems which are so incessantly cropping up in all lives, either in one form or another? There are, and the following are surely amongst them: and, like the spear of the seraph Ithuriel, these will indicate by a touch the evil that may lurk under innocent appearances:
(I)-Beware of anything which is inconsistent with your relationship to the Lord Jesus. What is that relationship? Of course we are dealing here with the case of those alone who are His, or who are desirous of being identified with Him, both here and hereafter.
We are His servants; bought by His blood, sworn to loyal allegiance. Is it quite consistent, then, to be mingling with the amusements and gaieties of the world, which is of the same spirit to-day as when it cast Him out of its camp and crucified Him? It has an ugly look about it when loyal soldiers fraternize in the carousals of rebels.
We are His members; bone of His bone, flesh of His flesh, whom He nourishes and cherishes. Our Head is already passed through the grave on to resurrection-ground, where He is gathering around Him His own-His kindred. Is it not incongruous for the Head to be on one side of the grave and the members on the other? Is it not altogether unbecoming to pretend to be one with Him in His risen glory, whilst we are practically as close as we dare in our contact with the world which He has left?
We are His bride; He, the Heavenly Bridegroom, is one with us in a union which has no analogy save that of wedlock, where heart locks with heart. Is it consistent with fidelity to Him for us to dally with the world, whose hands were embued with His blood? What did the people of Scotland think of the familiarities of marriage between Mary Queen of Scots and Bothwell, the murderer of her first husband, Darnley?
Surely the Cross, with outstretched arms, bars the bridge between us and the world; and we may cry with the Apostle, "Far be it from me to glory, save in the Cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, through which the world has been crucified unto me, and I unto the world."
Whenever, then, there is any doubt as to whether it be right to go to this place or that, bring the question beneath the light that streams from the Cross and from the Throne. Clear your heart and mind of all selfish aims and thoughts of what others may do or say. Let your eye be single to discern the will of the Lord. Ask what He would have you to do. Before long the difficulties will roll up as quickly and noiselesly as the mists which fill the mountain valleys before the touch of the summer sun. Your whole body will be full of light. You will even lose your taste for the things which once you loved. And in the new-found ecstacy of the Living Water, welling up in your heart, you will be prepared to leave behind the water-pot on which you had been relying as the source of your life.
(2)- Beware of anything which the world itself would deem inconsistent. Though the world is not religious in our sense, yet it has a very keen appreciation of true Christianity, and a very high ideal of what Christians should be. And we may well arrest our steps when we are met with a surprised interrogation-"What! are you here? We didn't expect to see you!" The very fuss which is made over us when we step over the line may well make us pause and ask whether we have not done something to forfeit the smile and "Well done" of Jesus.
(3)-Beware of anything which would injure some weaker conscience. This is one of the most important considerations in Christian living. "All things are lawful to me, but all things are not expedient." And why are they not expedient? It is inexpedient to do things which may be harmless enough in themselves, and which you may feel able to do with impunity, if in doing them you lead others to do them also, not because they feel at ease, but simply because they are emboldened by your example, regarding you as further advanced than themselves in the Christian life, and therefore a trustworthy guide. Estimate every action, not only as it is in itself, but as it is likely to be in its influence on others, lest you break down wholesome barriers, and place them in scenes of temptation which, however harmless to yourself, are perilous in the extreme to them. We have no right to lead our young children up perilous passes, where we may clamber with clear head and nimble foot, but where their inexperienced steps may slide into the abyss.
(4)-Beware of scenes and companionships which dull your spiritual Iife. Who is there that does not long for a life on fire? But how can we possibly look for such a thing if we are persistently exposing ourselves to influences which choke and repress it and damp it down? There are some scenes which seem incompatible with earnest prayer and Bible study ere we retire to rest; which lower the inner temperature; which leave an ill-flavor in the mouth; which poison the young life, as the noxious gas-fumes poison the life of flowers and plants. From all such scenes we do well to refrain our feet.
(5)-Beware of any society in which you feel compelled to put a bushel over your testimony. We must shine as lights in the world. The most necessary condition in a lighthouse-lamp is its permanence. If it shines at one time and is hidden at another, now flashing afar over the dark seething waves, and then standing sombre and obscure on the beetling cliff, of what use is it? It is worse than useless. And if we are to be of any real use in this world, our testimony for Jesus must be maintained in season and out of season, in storm and sunshine, always and everywhere. But if, before going into any scene or fellowship, you have to remind yourself that you must not touch on any of those subjects which are dearest to your soul, you may well fear lest you are trespassing on forbidden ground. Go nowhere that you can not take Jesus with you, and ask His blessing before going. "Do all to the glory of God."
All this will involve hard fighting, persecution and misunderstanding. It is thus, however, that we prove our lineage with the noble martyr-spirits of the past. See that young girl, in the days of Diocletian, beautiful and richly dressed, standing before the altar, with the judge on the one side, her lover on the other, her companions grouped around. If she will but throw a few grains of incense on the brazier, she shall be spared from cruel death and given back to love and friends and life. But not a grain is cast upon the expectant flames, and she is ruthlessly led off to die for Him whom she loves better than all. Was she not consistent? Would you not have done the same? Then do the same now, and dare to be consistent to your lover, Christ.
Sometimes we may be placed in such a position, that we have no alternative than to go into scenes which, for ourselves, we would not choose. For instance, when the worldly mother of a Christian girl insists on her accompanying her into society, where there is nothing positively sinful, but much that is light and thoughtless, it would evidently be her duty to go. You may ask to be excused, but if your plea is not allowed, you must go, unless conscience positively forbids, and Christ will go with you, keeping your heart.
THERE ARE MANY COMPENSATIONS.
This is the only safe course. The world is so attractive, and so appeals to our weaknesses, that if we once launch upon its waters, they will insensibly sweep us toward the rush of the whirlpool, and we shall go down into the deep, dark abyss.
It is the only strong course. He who would lift me must stand above me. Who did most for Sodom: Lot who went down into it and sat in the gate, or Abraham who got up early to the place where he stood before the Lord? The old heathen games were swept off the world, not because the early Christians went to them, but because they stopped away. The brutal sports of the last century fled away, not because the Methodists patronized them, but because they abstained from them. And the moral pests of modern society will never succumb until good people withdraw both their patronage and support.
This is the only blessed course, because God's promise of being a Father and of receiving us is entirely dependent on our complying with His conditions. It is when father and mother forsake that the Lord gathers us; when the synagogue casts us out, that Jesus finds us; when heart and flesh fail, that He is the strength of our heart and our portion forever.
Dare to go outside the camp, at the risk of being counted singular and unfriendly! Let the world treat you as it did your Lord. Why should the servant be fawned on and flattered where the Master was crucified as a felon? Lie in His grave, and thus you shall know the joys of His Easter life, the sweetness of His love, and the closeness of His friendship, which will compensate for a thousand deaths. To know the King you must share His exile.
Gather ye, gather ye, out to the lone Cave of Adullam, and around the standard of the exiled Prince; and when He comes again in triumph to be crowned with the diadem of universal empire ye shall appear in His train and by His side, confessed and acknowledged as those of whom He has no reason to be ashamed.