Come Out of Confinement

Warren Wiersbe


Read Psalm 18:16-19

For several years David had been forced to live in confined places while he fled from Saul. More than once he fled to a cave to save his life. Then God brought him out of the caves and out of confinement and into a large place. "He also brought me out into a broad place; He delivered me because He delighted in me" (v. 19). David was a man after God's own heart, and God delighted in him, just as He delighted in our Lord Jesus. God said of Him, "This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased" (Matt. 3:17).

We often talk about our delighting in the Lord. "Delight yourself also in the Lord, and He shall give you the desires of your heart" (Ps. 37:4). That's important to do. But what about God's delighting in us? As parents and grandparents, we enjoy delighting in our children and grandchildren. In a similar way God wants to delight in us.

Because God delights in us, He delivers us. And He uses the difficult experiences of life to make us bigger. "He also brought me out into a broad place" (v. 19). Verse 36 of this chapter says, "You enlarged my path under me." When God puts us into a large place, He has to give us larger feet. But don't stop there. In Psalm 4:1 David said, "You have relieved me." God delivers us so that He can put us into a larger place, so that He can enable us to take giant steps of faith for His glory. David had gone through several years of confinement, difficulty, persecution and sorrow. But when it was over, he was a bigger man.

Let the trials of life make you a giant, not a midget. Let God put you into a large place, where you can take giant steps of faith for His glory.

Life's trials are not easy. But in God's will, each has a purpose. Often He uses them to enlarge you. Are you feeling confined? Be encouraged that God delights in delivering you from confinement. Difficult times build your faith, if you let Him use them for His glory.

The Day of Clear Vision to the Dim Eyes.

 Horatius Bonar



"The eyes of those who see shall not be dim." –Isaiah 32:3

These blessed words tell us four things,
(1.) There are eyes that do not see;
(2.) there are eyes that do see;
(3.) of the eyes that see, some are dim;
(4.) the time is at hand when they shall not be dim.

I. THERE ARE EYES THAT SEE NOT.

Of the dead idols this is said– "They have eyes but see not;" and this is not amazing. But that the same should be said of living men is amazing. It is not true of angels; it is not true of devils; they have eyes and see. It is true of men; of millions; of the greater part of our race; they have eyes but see not. They shut them; they turn them away from their proper objects; they allow scales to grow over them; they deliberately veil them. O fearful calamity! O bitter curse! And yet for all this, they themselves are responsible. It is not God that blinds them, or veils, or darkens. They are their own undoers. They did not wish to see; they were resolved not to see. Self-blinded, not God blinded! They allow this world to blind or dazzle them; so that their eyes are useless. They let Satan, the god of this world, put his hand over their eyes; or bewilder them with his snares and enticements. Thus, having eyes they see not.

II. THERE ARE EYES THAT SEE. 

These are they whom God has enlightened; whose eyes the son of God has opened; for it is his work to open the eyes of the blind. They did not open their own eyes. Their eyes did not open by chance. Once they were blind– quite as blind as others; but now they see. There are not many of whom this can be said; yet there are some. And what do they see?
(1.) They see God;
(2.) they see Christ;
(3.) they see themselves;
(4.) they see the word of God;
(5.) they see the things within the veil.

They are not like the men of this world, with eyes that see outward things, sun, moon, and stars, earth and sea, woods and hills and fields. They see beyond all these– that which is spiritual and divine; that which is true and glorious. Yes; they see! In a blinded generation they see! How great a thing and how blessed to be able to say this of them– they see! They have eyes that are not useless; eyes that do not mislead; eyes that present things in their proper light and proportions and distances! Their eyes have been anointed with the heavenly eye salve, and they see! They no longer stumble nor grope in the dark, nor go after false objects. They see, and they know that they see!

III. OF THESE EYES THAT SEE, SOME ARE DIM. 

They see; but they do not see afar off (2 Peter 1:9). They see; but it is dimly. Their vision is defective. They see men as trees walking. They are near-sighted, short-sighted. Their eyes require further purging. They ought to see fully and truly; but they do not. They were not meant to be dim. God has no pleasure in their being dim. The objects are vivid and distinct; yet they are seen dimly. In what respects is this the case?
(1.) They see but part or parts of the truth;
(2.) what they do see is imperfectly realized.

The gospel is but half a gospel. The cross is not so full of peace and light as it ought to be. The way of life is but partially known. The coming glory has but a feeble radiance. The advent of Christ has but little value to them. Christ himself has but little of the excellence which he ought to possess to them, and is but poorly appreciated. There is no doubt something in the atmosphere of this present evil world that hinders vision and beclouds the eye; but still, after all, it is the dimness of the eye that is the evil. How many are all their lifetime afflicted with this imperfect vision. How much they lose by this! Their faith is not the substance of things hoped for; it is but the shadow of that substance. Hope is to them a vague expectation, with little of certainty or brightness in it. Their life has more of the cloud than of the sunshine about it.

IV. THE TIME IS AT HAND WHEN THESE EYES SHALL NOT BE DIM. 

There are many partial removals of this dimness even now; times when we see farther and more clearly. At Pentecost this was the case. At the Reformation also. In times of revival it has been so. In individual cases this has been known. Paul was a man that saw clearly. Augustine, Wycliffe, Luther, Calvin, Knox, Rutherford, Edwards; these were clear-sighted men, from whom the Holy Spirit had purged the scales and the dimness. But the reference here is prophetical.

The prophet points to a coming era of perfection, when we shall see Him as he is; see as we are seen, know as we are known. No dimness then; no defective vision; no cloudy atmosphere; no diseased organ of sight. All brightness and distinctness. The cross clear and bright. The light and love unclouded. Christ seen face to face, no longer in a glass darkly. Every ray of glory coming freshly from his revealed countenance; every feature fair and perfect; Himself the chief among ten thousand; His kingdom infinitely glorious. No doubting either as to the things of Christ, or our interest in them. No unbelief; no error; no mist. All the perfection of vision, and the perfection of light. O day of brightness and true vision, dawn! O Morning-star, arise! O Prince of light, light of the world, make haste, end the long darkness of humanity, and cover earth with celestial sunshine!

Three Pictures

 J.C. Ryle


"God forbid that I should glory, save the cross of our lord Jesus Christ." (Gal. vi. 14.)

“And as he thus spake for himself, Festus said with a loud voice, Paul, thou art beside thyself; much learning doth make thee mad. “But he said, I am not mad, most noble Festus; but speak forth the words of truth and soberness. “For the king knoweth of these things, before whom also I speak freely: for I am persuaded that none of these things are hidden from him; for this thing was not done in a corner. “King Agrippa, believest thou the prophets? I know that thou believest. “Then Agrippa said unto Paul, Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian. “And Paul said, I would to God, that not only thou, but also all that hear me this day, were both almost, and altogether such as I am, except these bonds.”--ACTS XXVI. 24—29.


There is a collection of pictures in London called the National Portrait Gallery. It contains the likenesses of nearly all the great men who have made a mark in English history. It is well worth seeing. But I doubt whether it contains three portraits which deserve a more attentive study than the three which I am going to show you in this paper.

One striking feature of the Bible is the rich variety of its contents. That grand old Book, which for eighteen centuries has baffled the attacks of unfriendly ethics, is not only a storehouse of doctrine, precept, history, poetry, and prophecy. The Holy Ghost has also given us a series of life-like portraits of human nature, in all its various aspects, which deserve our attentive study. ‘Who does not know that we often learn more from patterns and examples than from abstract statements?

Reader, the well-known piece of Scripture before you supplies an admirable illustration of my meaning. It forms the conclusion of the chapter in which the Apostle St. Paul makes a defence of himself before the Roman governor Festus and the Jewish king Agrippa. Three pictures of three very different men hang before us. They are types of three classes of men who are to be seen among us at this very day. Their succession has never ceased. In spite of changing fashions, scientific discoveries, and political reforms, the inward heart of man in every age is always the same. Come and let us stand before these three pictures, as we would stand before the painting of a Gainsborough, a Reynolds, or a Romney, and see what we may learn.


I. Let us look, first, at Festus, the Roman governor.

This is the man who abruptly broke in upon St. Paul’s address, exclaiming, “Paul, thou art beside thyself; much learning doth make thee mad.”

Festus, no doubt, was a heathen, ignorant of any religion except the idolatrous temple-worship, which in the time of the apostles overspread the civilized world. From the language he addressed to Agrippa in a preceding chapter, he seems to have been profoundly ignorant both of Judaism and Christianity. He spoke of “questions of their own superstition, and of one Jesus, which was dead, whom Paul affirmed to be alive.” (Acts xxv. 19.) Most probably, like many a proud Roman, in the declining age of the Roman Empire, he regarded all religions with secret contempt, as all equally false, or equally true, and all alike unworthy of the notice of a great man. As for a Jew talking of showing “light to the Gentiles,” the very idea was ridiculous! To keep in with the world, to have the favour of man, to care nothing for anything but the things seen, to please “my lord” Augustus,—this was probably the whole religion of Porcius Festus.

Now, reader, are there many among us like Festus? Yes! I fear there are tens of thousands. They are to be found in every rank and class of society. They walk in our streets. They travel with us in railway carriages. They meet us in the daily intercourse of the world. They fill the various relations of life respectably. They are often good men of business and eminent in the professions they have chosen. They discharge the various duties of their positions with credit, and leave a good name behind them, when their place is empty. But, like Festus, they have no religion!

These are they who seem to live as if they had no souls. From January to December, they appear neither to think, nor feel, nor see, nor know anything about a life to come. It forms no part of their schemes, and plans, and calculations. They live as if they had nothing to attend to but the body, nothing to do but to eat, and drink, and sleep, and dress, and get money, and spend money, and no world to provide for except the world which we see with our eyes.

These are they who seldom, if ever, use any means of grace, whether public or private. Praying, and Bible-reading, and secret communion with God are things which they despise and let alone. They may be very well for the aged, the sick, and the dying; for the clergy, the monk, and the nun; hut not for them! If they ever attend a place of worship, it is only as a matter of form, to appear respectable; and too often they never attend except on the occasion of some great public ceremony, or at a wedding, or a funeral.

These are they who profess their inability to understand anything like zeal or earnestness about religion. They regard the Societies, the Institutions, the literature, the Evangelistic efforts of Christians, at home or abroad, with sublime contempt. Their maxim is to let everybody alone. The comparative claims of Church and Dissent, the strife of parties within our pale, the debates of Convocations, Congresses, and Diocesan Conferences, are all alike matters of indifference to them. They look coldly at them from a distance, like the philosopher described by the Latin poet Lucretius, and regard them as the childish struggles of weak folks, unworthy of the notice of a cultivated mind. And if such subjects are ever brought up in their company, they brush them away with some satirical remark, or some oft-repeated old smart saying of scepticism.

Will any one deny that there are multitudes of people around us such as I have tried to describe,—kind people, perhaps, moral people, good-natured people, easy to get on with, unless you get on the subject of religion? It is impossible to deny it. Their name is “legion,” for they are many. The tendency of these latter days to make an idol of intellect,—the desire to be independent and to think for yourself,—the disposition to worship private judgment, to exalt your own isolated opinion, and to deem it finer and cleverer to go wrong with a few than right with a crowd,—all this helps to swell the ranks of the followers of Festus. I fear he is the type of a large class.

Such people are a melancholy sight. They often remind me of some grand old ruin, like Melrose or Bolton Abbey, where enough remains of beauteous arches, and columns, and towers, and traceried windows to show what the building once was, and what it might have been now if God had not left it. But now all is cold, and silent, and gloomy, and suggestive of decay, because the Master of the house, the Lord of life, is not there. Just so it is with many of the followers of Festus. You often feel, when you observe their intellectual power, their gifts of speech, their taste, their energy of character, “what men these might be if God had His rightful place in their souls!” But without God all is wrong. Alas, for the crushing power of unbelief and pride, when they get complete mastery of a man, and reign over him uncontrolled! No wonder that Scripture describes unconverted man as “blind,—sleeping,—beside himself,—and dead.”

Is Festus reading this paper to-day? I am afraid not! Religious tracts and books, like Sunday services and sermons, are not in his line. On Sundays Festus probably reads the newspaper, or looks over his worldly accounts, or visits his friends, or goes a journey, and secretly wishes an English Sunday was more like a Continental one, and the theatres and museums were open. On week-days Festus is constantly employed in business, or politics, or recreations, or killing time in the trifling pursuits of modern society ; and he lives like a butterfly, as thoughtless as if there were no such thing as death, or judgment, or eternity. Oh, no: Festus is not the man to read this paper

But is a man like Festus in a hopeless condition, and beyond the reach of mercy? No: indeed! I thank God he is not, he has yet got a conscience at the bottom of his character, which, however much seared, is not quite dead,—a conscience, which, like the great bell of St. Paul’s at midnight, when the roar of city business is over, will sometimes make itself heard. Like Felix, and Herod, and Ahab, and Pharaoh, the followers of Festus have their times of visitation and, unlike them, they sometimes awake before it is too late, and become different men. There are seasons in their lives when they are driven in upon themselves, and feel “the powers of the world to come,” and find that mortal man cannot get on without God. Sickness, and solitude, and disappointments, and losses of money, and deaths of loved ones, can sometimes make the proudest hearts bow down, and confess that “the grasshopper is a burden.” Manasseh is not the only one who “in time of affliction” turned to God, and began to play. Yes, reader, I have long felt that we must never despair of any one. The age of spiritual miracles is not past. With Christ and the Holy Ghost, nothing is impossible. The last day will show that there were some who began with Festus and were like him, but at last turned round, repented, and ended with St. Paul. While there is life we must hope, and pray for others.


II. Let us now turn to a very different picture Let us look at King Agrippa. This is the man who was so much struck by St. Paul’s address that he said, “Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian.”,

“Almost.” Let me dwell for moment on that expression. I am well aware that many think our authorized English Version of the Bible is in fault here, and fails to give the true meaning of the original Greek. They assert that the phrase would be more correctly rendered, “In a short time,” or “with weak and feeble argument thou art persuading me.” I am bold to say that I cannot accept the view of these critics, though I admit that the phrase is rather obscure. But in questions like these I dare not call any man master. 1 hold with several excellent commentators, both ancient and modern,* that the translation given in our authorized version is right and correct. I am fortified in my belief by the fact that this is the view of one who thought, and spoke, and wrote in the language of the New Testament, I mean the famous Greek Father Chrysostom. And last, but not least, no other view appears to me to harmonize with the exclamation of the Apostle St. Paul in the verse which follows. “Almost!” he seems to say, taking up Agrippa’s words. “I want thee to be not almost, but altogether a Christian.” On these grounds I stand by our old version.

HOW MUCH ARE YOU WORTH?

Major Ian Thomas


You cannot accomplish your own redemption, and you cannot accomplish your own sanctification! It is "according as His divine power hath given unto us all things that pertain unto life and godliness, through the knowledge of Him that hath called us to glory and virtue" (11 Peter 1:3): faith takes what God gives, and God gives what man needs! All that he needs!

All that God gives, which is all that you need, He gives to you in Christ, "That no flesh should glory in his presence. But of Him are ye in Christ Jesus, who of God is made unto us wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption" (I Corinthians 1:29 and 30).

The degree to which by a deliberate, voluntary attitude of faith you are reckoning yourself to be dead "with Christ" to all that you are "in Adam" and alive to God in all that you are "in Christ" is the degree to which the redemptive purpose of God has been wrought out in your life and this is the only valid estimate of your worth! Everything else is a dead loss! "Consequently, from now on we estimate and regard no one from a (purely) human point of view in terms of natural standards of value" (11 Corinthians 5:16, Amplified New Testament).

Pointing to an affluent looking gentleman coming into the church, I might say to you (if I were mischievous enough), "How much is he worth?" and maybe you would reply, "If he's worth a dollar, he's worth a million!" and I would say to you, "I did not ask how much money he had in the bank! I simply asked you how much he was worth!"

A man could have all the money in all the banks in all the world, and be worth nothing so far as God is concerned, if he were still living "to and for himself"! The measure of a man's worth is the measure in which he no longer lives "to and for himself," but "to and for Jesus Christ." No more and no less!

How much are you worth?

From: The Mystery of Godliness

"THEY SING THE SONG OF MOSES"

 Robert Murray MCheyne

"THEY SING THE SONG OF MOSES"

Dark was the night, the wind was high,
The way by mortals never trod;
For God had made the channel dry,
When faithful Moses stretched the rod.

The raging waves on either hand
Stood like a massy tott'ring wall,
And on the heaven-defended band
Refused to let the waters fall.

With anxious footsteps, Israel trod
The depths of that mysterious way;
Cheered by the pillar of their God,
That shone for them with fav'ring ray.

But when they reached the opposing shore,
As morning streaked the eastern sky,
They saw the billows hurry o'er
The flower of Pharaoh's chivalry.

Then awful gladness filled the mind
Of Israel's mighty ransomed throng;
And while they gazed on all behind,
Their wonder burst into a song.

Thus, Thy redeemed ones, Lord, on earth,
While passing through this vale of weeping,
Mix holy trembling with their mirth,
And anxious watching with their sleeping.

The night is dark, the storm is loud,
The path no human strength can tread;
Jesus, be Thou the pillar-cloud,
Heaven's light upon our path to shed.

And oh! when, life's dark journey o'er,
And death's enshrouding valley past,
We plant our foot on yonder shore,
And tread yon golden strand at last.

Shall we not see with deep amaze,
How grace hath led us safe along;
And whilst behind - before, we gaze,
Triumphant burst into a song!

And even on earth, though sore bested,
Fightings without, and fears within;
Sprinkled to-day from slavish dread,
To-morrow captive led by sin.

Yet would I lift my downcast eyes,
On Thee, Thou brilliant tower of fire -
Thou dark cloud to mine enemies -
That Hope may all my breast inspire.

And thus the Lord, my strength, I'll praise,
Though Satan and his legions rage;
And the sweet song of faith I'll raise,
To cheer me on my pilgrimage.


EDINBURGH, 1835.

The Ministry of the Watchman

Chip Brogden


Let us take up the topic of the ministry of the watchman with a text from Ezekiel 33:7

7 So thou, O son of man, I have set thee a watchman unto the house of Israel; therefore thou shalt hear the word at my mouth, and warn them from me.

The watchman is a prophet and intercessor called to bring the Word of God to Israel, the Body of Christ. We use the term watchman to include both roles of prophet and intercessor.

Most people liken the prophetic ministry to prophesying and speaking of visions and dreams from God. This definition is too narrow and opens us up to misunderstanding. The function of the prophetic intercessor, or watchman, is best defined as taking place in the course of four stages: Revelation, Intercession, Proclamation, and Restoration. We will discuss these areas more particularly in a moment.

We must use the Scriptures as our sole authority for defining and determining the job description of the prophet. Whatever the popular thought or current practice may be, we are not interested in mans notions of what a prophet should be or what everyone else is doing. Taking the passage from Ezekiel as a springboard, we make the following observations:

1) "I have set thee a watchman." Prophets are not self-anointed. Prophets are not called by a denomination or installed by men. Prophets do not receive a prophetic ministry through the laying on of hands by another prophet (but it certainly may be confirmed by another prophet; that is not the same thing). One does not decide to become a prophet, neither may one volunteer their services to be a prophet.

God reserves the right to set His own watchmen, and this He will do according to His will, and according to His timing. We do not know why He chooses the ones He chooses. It is a work of grace. Many prophets are selected from birth or from childhood. John the Baptist was filled with the Spirit within his mothers womb. We dare not intrude into this holy work by setting up our own prophets or stepping into a place that God has not put us. It is Gods Hand, and no other.

2) "Unto the house of Israel." The prophet speaks primarily to Gods people, the house of Israel. The New Testament church is the spiritual Israel of God (Galatians 3:39; 4:21-31). Watchmen do not speak to the world writ large, casting their pearls before swine. They are called to exhort, edify, rebuke, and build the Church of God, building upon the foundation that is laid already in Christ.

The prophet does not usually bring a one size fits all generic sort of message that speaks to the universe. It is typically a surgical strike, directed and honed to penetrate a particular thing in the Body of Christ, with Spirit-led precision that cuts through the formalities and niceties to get to the guts of the task at hand. The very nature of the of message cuts to the quick and makes some gnash their teeth. Even so, God has set Watchman in the Church for its own edification, comfort, and protection.

3) "Therefore thou shalt hear the word at my mouth, and warn them from me." Why doesnt God speak directly to His people? Why speak indirectly through a prophet? The prophet is called to speak warning. It presupposes that the house of Israel has sunk to such a low degree that God may no longer speak directly to the nation. He must use a man to speak to men.

We may argue that we are all priests and the Lord may speak to us just as He speaks to prophets. This is the spirit behind Korahs Rebellion:

Numbers 16:2,3

2 And they rose up before Moses, with certain of the children of Israel, two hundred and fifty princes of the assembly, famous in the congregation, men of renown: 3 And they gathered themselves together against Moses and against Aaron, and said unto them, Ye take too much upon you, seeing all the congregation are holy, every one of them, and the LORD is among them: wherefore then lift ye up yourselves above the congregation of the LORD?

Let us not quibble about through whom the Word comes. The watchman is on the wall and is looking at things from a different vantage point. He sees things you cannot or will not see. Since God has set him there, it would be a mistake to ignore the warning he brings. If God can use a donkey to rebuke the madness of Balaam, certainly we should pay particular attention to one who comes to us in the name of the Lord.

Letter To A Reluctant Prophet

 Chip Brogden


Dear Friend,

It is with a certain fearfulness that I respond to your inquiry, for I am not an authority on such things. I can certainly relate to your reluctance at being identified among the company of the prophets when so many false apostles, prophets, and teachers abound. I wish I could point you in a proper direction, but I can only point you towards the Lord. It is He who selects His messengers, and I have nothing to offer you by way of what to do.

At most, perhaps you can look upon me as an example of what NOT to do, and take some word of counsel from a weak brother who has made many mistakes and endured many failures along the way. Perhaps you too will have to make even the same mistakes in order to learn, yet following my advice could perhaps help you to avoid the unnecessary heartache and cruelty inflicted upon yourself and others when thinking that you are doing God a service.

I would counsel you, first of all, to be a Christian. Do not spend too much time focused on that which is prophetic. Do not come to others as a prophet, but as a child. Let Christ be your obsession, not the prophetic word. For "the testimony of Jesus is the spirit of prophecy." There need not be turmoil in your heart about your calling; it is clear that you are among those that are "the Called, according to His purpose." And what is His purpose? That you be "conformed to the image of His dear Son." That, above all, is your first calling.

Many are eager to wear the Prophet's mantle, but are reluctant to bear the Christian's cross. This cannot be. Given the choice between Christian or Prophet, choose Christian. Serve God as the earthen vessel you are, in the place you find yourself to be. Perhaps the Lord will indeed use you in some prophetic way, but if not then at least you have been faithful with the "one talent" you have been given. God will not give five talents to those who cannot be faithful with one, and will not give ten to those who cannot be faithful with five.

If you are a Christian first you will remember that you should walk softly, with meekness and humility, while esteeming others as better than yourself. Then the prophetic word, when and if it comes, will be seasoned with the appropriate amounts of mercy and grace. Remember that without love you will inevitably become as sounding brass - all judgment. If we cannot or will not stay in Love, God will set out to humble us shamefully before our brothers and sisters that we may know the depths of our hypocrisy and self-righteousness. That is evidence of HIS great love for all of us.

Now, concerning the prophetic word itself. God will give you the "what", but the "when" and the "how" are left up to you. "The spirits of the prophets are subject to the prophets." You can be right on target with the "what", but if you screw up the "when", and especially the "how", you do yourself and others unnecessary harm.

Jesus says, "Take my yoke upon you (this speaks of RESTRAINT on the way WE want to go) and learn of Me, for I am meek and lowly of heart, and you will find rest for your souls." What then? He gives us liberty to speak, but allows us to suffer for speaking out of ourselves. He bids us to be restrained, to take our liberty and give it back to Him, knowing that we can do nothing of ourselves. He does not force us to wear the yoke, but invites us saying "take My yoke." By giving up our freedom, we will receive it again.

No, we cannot just do what Jesus did, because Jesus bore the yoke of His Father at all times. We cast off the yoke so quickly. We are untrustworthy, but He is faithful. Let us not just imitate Him, but let us learn of Him. Let us not only be familiar with His Word, but let us become acquainted with His Ways. It is not enough to memorize what He said, we must take His yoke upon us and walk in tandem with Him.

Since Christ bids us to "learn of ME", beware of those who will try to gain access into your life with an inordinate desire to mentor or shepherd you. We may certainly seek the advice, prayers, and counsel of other mature believers. Even the little children in the Kingdom of God can teach us much. But people can only carry us so far, and there is a certain human pride which results in the teachers trying to form the students into their own image. This will not do. The Anointing, Who is the Christ, will teach you all things. His Spirit will lead you into all Truth. His grace is sufficient. There is no man or woman who can give you anything apart from what you have already in Jesus, for we have been "blessed with every spiritual blessing in heavenly places in Christ".

The Altar of Abraham

By Andrew Bonar


      (Sermon preached in Glasgow, Anderston Free Church, on 29 September 1889. When reading this sermon, it is interesting to note that Andrew Bonar was now 79 years old and most of his friends and his wife (25 years before) had died. He alone seemed to remain for year after year..)

'And Abraham planted a grove in Beersheba, and called there on the name of the Lord, the everlasting God' Gen. 21:33

In that spot, half desert, but near a cluster of wells full of clear, clean water, Abraham planted a group of trees - a grove of trees. Now you see him, and you see a little band of pilgrims - we may call them, along with him, dwellers in that spot - entering that grove to call upon the name of Jehovah. You see them, day by day, passing into that grove and there enjoying rest and coolness, and calling on the name of the everlasting God. Brethren, it is Abraham that does this, with his faithful friends.

And there is an altar in that grove, an altar which always tells of sacrifice and of blood that flows; for they know they are a company of sinners, and they know that they need the blood of sacrifice as much as Abel did when he laid the lamb upon his altar. Look at that little company compassing their altar in the grove, compassing it round and round, their eye ever resting on the smoke and the fire that consumed the victim, or on the drops of blood that fall from the sacrifice. Look at that little company compassing the altar in meditation and praise and prayer and adoration. But we fail to read the writing on the altar, to read the words written on it : 'Jehovah the everlasting God, Jehovah Elohim' - God of eternity, the everlasting God. But, dear brethren, just as afterwards Jacob reared an altar and called it 'El-Bethel', God of Bethel, in memory of what had been long before there, so it was appropriate for Abraham, wandering from place to place, and having no abiding city here, to have an altar, and write upon it that name, 'The everlasting God', as if he said; 'I am every now and then missing friends, but I have a friend who calls me "My friend Abraham", a friend that will never, never fail or die, the everlasting God.'

Dear brethren, I invite you to take four steady looks at this altar. See Abraham leaning on it, and thinking there upon the days of his pilgrimage. he had been moving up and down, pulling up the pins and loosing the cords of his tents, ofttimes soon after they have been fixed. See Abraham doing this, and often feeling strangely that he is a wanderer, the hope of the promised land deferred, and meeting with much that annoys and troubles his soul ; but he enters that grove, that shady grove, and in the shadow of that grove he finds a quiet time for meeting with Jehovah, the everlasting God. In the eleventh of Hebrews we find it said that he, and such as were his, 'confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth'. He looked beyond the passing scene; and that grand inscription on the altar, 'Jehovah, the everlasting God', told where his heart and where his treasure lay. Let me ask, is life to you a sojourn, a pilgrimage? You are not settled down in this world ; you are but passing through it. If you are feeling somewhat like Abraham, the only steadfast thing you can point to is Jehovah, your friend, the everlasting God. And can you point to him and claim him? You see him not, but you know him.

But, take a second look at the altar. Here is Abraham leaning on it, and thinking of his fellow-pilgrims. They, too, belong to the family of the everlasting God. But, meanwhile, from time to time some of them are disappearing, and he knows that he may be left soon very lonely. The friends of his childhood, many of them are a-missing. He laid his father Terah in the grave at Haran. He came to this land, and he has seen there, yonder, the smoke of Sodom ascending, the smoke of the doomed city of the plain. Ah! but he has seen something that haunts him continually; he has seen the blight upon his nephew Lot - Lot, like a withered branch - and all this goes to his soul. And he has been constrained to part with Hagar and with Ishmael; and what more there is of change he cannot tell. But all this sends him back to his altar, and it is with unspeakable refreshment that he reads again and again, 'Jehovah, the everlasting God', 'with whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning.' Quietly resting there, how often has his friend Jehovah held communion with him. Do you thus repair in hours of sadness to the Lord, the everlasting God? Is it thus that you refresh yourself with 'Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, and to-day, and forever'? Himself the same; his Word the same.

An Acceptable Present to the Lord of Hosts

An Acceptable Present to the Lord of Hosts - 1843

By J.C. Philpot


      Preached at Eden Street Chapel, Hampstead Road, London, in 1843

"In that time shall the present be brought unto the Lord of Hosts of a people scattered and peeled, and from a people terrible from their beginning hitherto: a nation meted out and trodden under foot, whose land the rivers have spoiled, to the place of the name of the Lord of Hosts, the Mount Zion." Isa 18:7

When presents are made to earthly monarchs, they are almost always of a costly and valuable nature. In fact, it would seem an insult to offer to an earthly monarch any present that did not, in some degree, correspond to the exalted situation, which he occupies. But "Gods thoughts are not our thoughts, neither are our ways his ways. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are his ways higher than our ways, and his thoughts than our thoughts" (Isa. 55:8, 9)

"The present" that is "brought unto the Lord of Hosts," spoken of in the text, is of a very different character from what is usually offered to earthly sovereigns. A nation flourishing in arts and arms, occupying a fertile and extensive territory, carrying on a wide and lucrative commerce, and sending its fleets and armies all over the globe--such a people might well be a present acceptable to an earthly monarch. But when we look at the text, and see what sort of people is presented to the Lord of Hosts, we find a nation of a very different character brought unto him. We read there of a people "scattered and peeled," of a nation "meted out and trodden under foot, whose land the rivers have spoiled;" and that this broken, and, as they might naturally be called, useless people, are brought "to the place of the name of the Lord of Hosts, the Mount Zion," as an acceptable offering to him who lives and reigns there.

Now, reason would dictate, and, indeed, it is the prevalent religion of the day, that an offering, which is to be made to the Lord of Hosts, should be such a one as agrees with his holy and righteous character. We find, therefore, the generality of ministers exhorting everybody to give to the Lord the prime of their life, their strongest affections, their noblest mental and bodily faculties, with all the piety, zeal, diligence, and holiness that they can muster, and to lay them down at the feet of the Lord of Hosts as an offering acceptable in his sight. And though this never is done, and, from the utterly fallen state of man, never can be done, we find the preachers no less constantly exhorting, and the people no less perpetually approving of this as the only excellent way.

But when we look at the text (and we must adhere to the word of God, however contrary to our carnal reason) we find that "the present which is to be brought to the Lord of Hosts," is not of a righteous people, a people zealous, and diligent, a people active in good words and works, "but people scattered and peeled, and from a people terrible from their beginning hitherto; a nation meted out and trodden under foot, whose land the rivers have spoiled, to the place of the name of the Lord of Hosts, the Mount Zion." Without further preface then, I shall, from these words, endeavour, with Gods blessing, to describe what the character, the experimental character I mean, of that people is which is "brought as a present unto the Lord of Hosts."

But we must bear in mind that the people of God are always to be looked at in two points of view. First, as standing in the Son of God, their eternal Covenant Head; and, secondly, as standing in Adam, their temporal covenant head. Viewed in Christ, they stand accepted in him "without spot or blemish, or any such thing." The church, as an unspotted, lovely bride, was betrothed unto Christ in eternity before ever she fell in Adam. Thus in this sense therefore, the church, as the spotless wife of the Lamb, is a present fit for the Lord of Hosts, for she stands righteous in Christs righteousness, holy in Christs holiness, comely in Christs comeliness, and perfect in Christs perfection. But, viewed in fallen Adam, as a partaker of his depraved nature, and viewed experimentally when brought to know the plague of her heart, she stands "full of wounds, and bruises, and putrefying sores."

Pax Vobiscum

By Henry Drummond


      I once heard a sermon by a distinguished preacher upon "Rest." It was full of beautiful thoughts; but when I came to ask myself, "How does he say I can get Rest?" there was no answer. The sermon was sincerely meant to be practical, yet it contained no experience that seemed to me to be tangible, nor any advice that I could grasp--any advice, that is to say, which could help me to find the thing itself as I went about the world.

Yet this omission of what is, after all, the only important problem, was not the fault of the preacher. The whole popular religion is in the twilight here. And when pressed for really working specifics for the experiences with which it deals, it falters, and seems to lose itself in mist.

The want of connection between the great words of religion and every-day life has bewildered and discouraged all of us. Christianity possesses the noblest words in the language; its literature overflows with terms expressive of the greatest and happiest moods which can fill the soul of man. Rest, Joy, Peace, Faith, Love, Light--these words occur with such persistency in hymns and prayers that an observer might think they formed the staple of Christian experience. But on coming to close quarters with the actual life of most of us, how surely would he be disenchanted. I do not think we ourselves are aware how much our religious life is

MADE UP OF PHRASES;

how much of what we call Christian Experience is only a dialect of the Churches, a mere religious phraseology with almost nothing behind it in what we really feel and know.

To some of us, indeed, the Christian experiences seem further away than when we took the first steps in the Christian life. That life has not opened out as we had hoped. We do not regret our religion, but we are disappointed with it. There are times, perhaps, when wandering notes from a diviner music stray into our spirits; but these experiences come at few and fitful moments. We have no sense of possession in them. When they visit us, it is a surprise. When they leave us, it is without explanation. When we wish their return, we do not know how to secure it.

All which means a religion without solid base, and a poor and flickering life. It means a great bankruptcy in those experiences which give Christianity its personal solace and make it attractive to the world, and a great uncertainty as to any remedy. It is as if we knew everything about health--except the way to get it.

I am quite sure that the difficulty does not lie in the fact that men are not in earnest. This is simply not the fact. All around us Christians are wearing themselves out in trying to be better. The amount of spiritual longing in the world--in the hearts of unnumbered thousands of men and women in whom we should never suspect it; among the wise and thoughtful, among the young and gay, who seldom assuage and never betray their thirst--this is one of the most wonderful and touching facts of life. It is not more heat that is needed, but more light; not more force, but a wiser direction to be given to very real energies already there.

The usual advice when one asks for counsel on these questions is, "Pray." But this advice is far from adequate. I shall qualify the statement presently; but let me urge it here, with what you will perhaps call daring emphasis, that to pray for these things is not the way to get them. No one will get them without praying; but that men do not get them by praying is the simple fact. We have all prayed, and sincerely prayed, for such experiences as I have named; prayed, believing that that was the way to get them. And yet have we got them? The test is experience. I dare not limit prayer; still less the grace of God. If you have got them in this way, it is well. I am speaking to those, be they few or many, who have not got them; to ordinary men in ordinary circumstances. But if we have not got them, it by no means follows that prayer is useless. The correct conclusion is only that it is useless, or inadequate rather, for this particular purpose. To make prayer the sole resort, the universal panacea for every spiritual ill, is as radical a mistake as to prescribe only one medicine for every bodily trouble. The physician who does the last is a quack; the spiritual adviser who does the first is

The Vine

By G. Campbell Morgan


      I am the vine, ye are the branches: he that abideth in Me, and I in him, the same beareth much fruit: for severed from Me ye can do nothing. John 15:5

These words are among the most simple, the most sublime and the most solemn which ever fell from the sacred lips of our adorable Redeemer. They were spoken to a small group of men who at the moment were alert with the fear of the approaching departure of their Lord. Where He was going they could not tell, but He had told them again and again that He was about to leave them, and that the pathway of His pilgrimage was overshadowed by clouds, and the method of His going must be that of suffering. These men were listening to Him in the quiet and subduing influences of the night.

The words were spoken, not at the commencement of Jesus' training of the twelve, but at its close. So far as His own mission was concerned, the words of the paschal discourses were resultant words, words into which He gathered all the emphases of His teaching, words in which, as in the case of our text, He uttered inclusive and exhaustive claims. If they were resultant so far as His own teaching was concerned, they were preparatory in view of what the disciples were called to do in the world.

We should remember, further, that these words of our text occur in the latter part of the paschal discourses, after the disciples had been at least hushed into silence and solemnity. The first part of Jesus' teaching on this occasion was broken in upon by the questions and objections, aspirations and difficulties, of perplexed and puzzled men. Peter, "Whither goest Thou?... Why cannot I follow Thee even now?" Thomas, "We know not whither Thou goest; how know we the way?" Philip, "Shew us the Father, and it sufficeth us." Jude, How is it that "Thou wilt manifest Thyself unto us, and not unto the world?"

At last the questions were hushed, and the men were still. Then He spoke of the mystery of the coming union between themselves and Himself, and that principally in order to teach them, not the privileges that would accrue to them as the result of the union, but the responsibilities that would rest on them in view thereof.

Often our exposition of the teaching concerning that responsibility has been too narrow in that we have dwelt altogether too exclusively on the personal aspects of this particular text, "I am the vine, ye are the branches." Almost invariably in our exposition of this great teaching of Jesus we have dwelt on the joy and glory of being members of Christ as branches are members of the vine. We have thought of what that means to us in the way of abounding life and intimate relationships. These things are all true, but they do not constitute the final truth; they do not reveal the ultimate meaning of this allegory of our Lord. We have rejoiced in the resources which the figure suggests, and have altogether too largely forgotten the responsibilities which it reveals.

Therefore let me ask you to consider with me, first, the figure of which the Lord made use; second, the use which the Lord made of the figure, and that in order that we may come to a practical application of the teaching.

First, then, the figure of which our Lord made use. It is difficult to read the Chapter without wondering where the Lord said these things. The fourteenth Chapter of this gospel ends with the words, "Arise, let us go hence." There can be no doubt in the mind of any natural, simple reader of the narrative that at that point they left the upper room where the earlier part of these discourses had been delivered. Where did they go? It may be that they passed from the upper room, down through the street of the city, and out through its gates across the Kedron toward Gethsemane. If so, possibly on their way they would see the vines growing on the mountain slopes, and in the darkness of the night the fires of the vine dressers, in which withered and dead branches bearing no fruit were burned. Or it may be that they left the upper room and found their way to the great temple, for the Passover period was approaching, and at that time the priests opened the gates of the temple immediately after midnight that worshipers might pass into the courts. At that time the chief and distinctive glory of the temple gate was that of the golden vine, the symbol of Israel. One wonders whether, as Jesus used this figure, they with Him were looking at the actual vine on the mountain side, all gnarled, and showing marks of the knife provocative of fruit, and on the fires lit for the destruction of fruitless branches; or whether, perchance, in the hallowed and sacred courts of the temple they saw the glorious symbol of the national life on the gates.

Spiritual Fears

By Henry Law


If there is a picture, in which all enchanting beauty shines, it is that which represents the state of the children of God by faith in Christ Jesus.--Gal. 3:26. Every joy should glow in their cup. They are called to a song swelling with melody, which cannot be more sweet. They are invited to a garden, in which each fragrant flower ever blooms. They are enjoined to sit down beneath the shadow of a tree, on whose extended branches most luscious fruit forever hangs. A volume is presented to their hands, written inside and outside in glowing terms of bliss--in which every page is calm and bright, and where perusal never wearies. Thus blessed is the heritage of faith.

To show the truth of this statement is an easy and delightful task. It requires no stretch of mind--no strain of argument--no effort of intellect--no expansion of reason's wings--no deductions of logic--no inventions of wit. To gain this light, we have only to sit still, and hear what God the Lord has said. Let the record be now pondered with earnest cry--'Open our eyes, good Lord, that we may behold wondrous things out of Your law; open our ears that we may hear Your heavenly voice, walking in the garden of Your word; open our mouths wide, and then descend and fill.'

The faithful word instantly gives the following witness-

1. God's children share His EVERLASTING LOVE. Oh! that the love of God were shed abroad more abundantly in our hearts by the Holy Spirit, which is given unto us.--Rom. 5:5. Its origin and duration should be pondered. It began before the birth of time. It will be fresh, when time shall be no more. "I have loved You with an everlasting love."--Jer. 31:3. "I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord."--Rom 8:38-39. "God is love." It is the very essence of His being. If it could expire where would God exist?

Consider, also, its FREENESS. God loves not for anything seen or foreseen--known or foreknown--given or designed--destined or pledged. There neither is, nor can be, a moving cause independent of Himself. He loves, because He will love. The actuating motive, so to speak, is His own heart. This statement leaves nothing to be added.

Mark, also, its NEVER-VARYING brightness. It knows no mutability. "I change not--therefore you sons of Jacob are not consumed."--Mal. 3:6. "With Him is no variableness neither shadow of turning."--James 1:17. Man is fickle, as the restless wind. The prince's smile may be a frown tomorrow. The summer-friend may freeze into a winter-foe. Our perceptions of God's love may indeed differ. A passing cloud may hide the sun. But its reality is the same "yesterday, and today, and forever."

Its INFINITUDE is an amazing thought. The heavens are high--but it is higher. The ocean has vast depths, but it is deeper. Far is east from west, but its length has no horizon. We have no measure with which to estimate--no scales to weigh--no line to fathom it. No tongue can tell--no thought conceive--its boundless, boundlessness. If happiness exists, it surely must be theirs, who are encircled by this love.

2. God's children are enriched with the gift of gifts--the largest and the best, which heaven could grant. God gives His co-eternal and co-equal Son, Christ Jesus the Lord. If worlds upon worlds with all their treasures, beauties, glories, had been piled into one pyramid, it would have been as the small dust of the balance, when weighed against this portion. Each one can truly say, "I am my Beloved's, and my Beloved is mine."--Song 6:3. Christ--all that Christ is--all that Christ has--is granted as an inalienable possession.

Peter's Tears

The Suffering Savior 22: 

By F.W. Krummacher


      Our present meditation will console us for the grief we experienced when considering the depth of Peter's fall. The star of divine grace rises on that gloomy scene with benignant radiance. We here witness the shedding of tears, which, next to those that flowed from our Lord himself at the grave of Lazarus, over ungodly Jerusalem, and in Gethsemane, may be regarded as the most remarkable that were ever shed upon earth. They have dropped, like soothing balm, into many a wounded heart. May they not fail to produce a blessed effect on many of my readers, and be renewed in their experience!

We again meet with Peter at the horrible moment when completing his denial of Jesus, he formally abjures his discipleship with heavy curses. Observe, this is done by the very individual from whose lips the great confession had previously proceeded--"We have known and believed that you are the Christ, the Son of the living God;" and the ardent and sincere declaration--"Though all men should forsake you, yet will not I." But what are even the best of men when left for a moment to themselves? And what would become of the most faithful of Christ's followers, if the Lord were only for a short time to remove the restraints of his grace? O the folly of trusting to the finest feelings, seeing that we are not sure of them for a single second! What childish presumption to rely for success on the airy weapons of what men call good-will, or noble resolutions! We might indeed do so, if the "weak flesh" did not always accompany the "willing spirit," and if Satan did not always go about as a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour.

Peter has first to learn, in the school of experience, like us all, that we presume too much if we rely upon ourselves, even in the most trifling temptation. The love of Christ constrains us to venture everything for him; but it is only the belief in Christ's love for us, and the trusting to his gracious power and strength, that enables us to overcome. He who trembles at himself, as being capable above others of denying his Master, will gain greater victories than he who deems himself sufficiently strong to be able to say, "Though all men forsake you, yet will not I." "You stands by faith," writes Paul to the Romans, "Be not high-minded, but fear." "Therefore," says the same apostle, "I will rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me."

Peter is vanquished. Hell triumphs. And why should she not? Had ever a soul become hers which had drawn down upon itself the curse so deservedly as that of this apostate disciple? and did the cause of Christianity, so hated by her, ever receive such a painful shock as in this instance, where one of its apostles basely succumbs under the first danger which menaces a candid confession of his discipleship, and is unable to find language strong enough for his affirmation that "he knows not the man?" Nevertheless, hell begins to cry "victory" too soon. There is no such hurry with regard to the curse which is to light upon Peter. Listen to what is passing in the judgment hall of the palace. The appalling sentence has just been uttered in the midst of a tumultuous uproar, "What further need have we of witnesses! He has blasphemed God, and is guilty of death." "Who?" we ask, astonished. "Simon Peter?" No, another--a Holy One: even he who once exclaimed, "I lay down my life for the sheep." He is now ready to do so, and Peter belongs also to his flock, from whom the curse is transferred to him, the Surety, and with respect to whom the words are henceforth applicable, "They shall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of my hand." As regards the shock which the cause of the Gospel endured through Peter's denial, it will survive this also. Yet a little while, and there is One who will be able to give such a turn to the whole affair that it must tend rather to the advancement than the injury of the Gospel.

THE WRATH OF LOVE

Town and Country Sermons, 39 - 

By Charles Kingsley


      Psalm cvii. 6. Then they cried unto the Lord in their trouble, and he delivered them out of their distresses.

If I were asked to give a reason why I believed the Old Testament to be an inspired and divine book, as well as the New, I could not do better, I think, than to lay my hand on this 107th psalm, and say,-- This is my reason for believing the Old Testament to be inspired. I have hundreds of others: but this one is enough--this one psalm. It contains an account of God's dealings with men, such as the world never heard before, and very seldom since, save from a very few men, who really saw what the Bible meant, and honestly followed its teaching. It gives a notion of the justice of God, and an explanation of the chances and changes of this mortal life, such as you will find nowhere else save in the Bible, and in the books of Christian men who have been taught by the Bible. The man who wrote that psalm knew so much more than other men, that he must have been indeed inspired by the Spirit of Truth, and the Holy Ghost of God.

And, I should say, I have come to this opinion mainly by comparing this psalm with the writings of heathens, even the wisest and the best of them. For the heathens, like all men, used to have their troubles, and to ask themselves, Who has sent this trouble? And why has he sent it? And their answers remain to us in their writings, some worse, some better, some very foolish, some tolerably wise. But when one compares the heathen writings with this psalm, or with any psalms or passages of the Old Testament which talk of God's dealings with man, then we shall be altogether astonished at the superiority of the Bible. The Bible will seem to us quite infinitely wiser than heathen books, on this matter, as on others-- so much more simple, and yet so much more deep; so much more rational also, and so much more true: agreeing so much more with the facts which we see happen round us: agreeing so much more with our own reason, experience, inward conscience, about what is just and unjust:--that we shall begin to see as much difference between heathen books and the Old Testament, as there is between the dim dawn of morning, and the full blaze of noonday light.

One of the earliest heathen notions why troubles came was, it seems, that the gods were offended with men, because they had not shown them due honour, flattered them enough, or offered sacrifices enough to them: or else they fancied that the gods envied men: grudged their prosperity, did not like to see them too happy.

That dark and base notion gradually faded away, as men got higher notions of right and wrong, and of the gods, as the judges and avengers of wrong. Then they began to think these troubles were punishments for doing wrong. The Gods, or God, punished sin; inflicting so much pain for so much sin, very much as the heathens are apt to punish their criminals still, and as Christian nations used to punish theirs, namely, with shameful and horrible tortures; before they began to find out that the end of punishment is not to torment, but to reform, the criminal, wherever it is possible.

But then the thought would come--Why, after all, should God, if he be just and merciful, punish my sin by pain and misery? How can it profit God, how can it please God, to give me pain? Because it satisfies his justice? How can it do that? It would not satisfy mine. Suppose my child, or even my dog, disobeyed me, would it satisfy my sense of justice to beat him? It might satisfy my passion: but God has no passions. It would be base, blasphemous to fancy that he takes pleasure in hurting me, as I take pleasure in beating my dog when I lose my temper with it. God forbid! The old prophets saw that, and cried--'Have I any pleasure in the death of him, saith the Lord, and not rather that he should turn from his wickedness, and live?'

The Lesson of Rest

Garden of the Heart: Chapter 16 

By J.R. Miller


      No words Jesus spoke have found welcome in more hearts, than His promises of rest to weary and heavy laden ones. No other word touches the deep need of human lives, as this word does. What is this rest which Christ gives? It is not rest from labor, for work is one of the laws of life, and is necessary to health, growth, and happiness.

"Rest is not quitting
The busy career;
Rest is but fitting
One's self to one's sphere."

The world's thought is that if we can get away from trouble, struggle, need, and suffering--that we shall find rest. In one of Job's complaints, he laments that he had ever been born, or that he had not died before his eyes saw the light. "There the wicked cease from troubling; and there the weary are at rest." But there is nothing noble in such a bitter cry. The rest of the grave is not the rest that Christ promises.

Nor can we ever find rest by fleeing from the place of God's appointment, because it is a place of suffering. In one of the Psalms the writer is in great trouble, and cries to God to help him. Then he says:

"Oh that I had wings like a dove!
Then would I fly away, and be at rest."

This, too, was a mistaken longing. The place where he was--was the very place in which God wanted him to be, and he could never have found rest by fleeing from it. We can find rest, only in the place of duty. Only the other day one wrote: "I wish I could leave all this tangle, this perplexity about money, this need for struggle." But he cannot get away. He is face to face with the necessity for courage, for action, for work, and he cannot escape from it. Then even if he could flee out of it all--he would not find rest. An old writer said about the wish in the Psalm: "David should have been praying for the strength of an ox to bear his trouble, not for the wings of a dove to flee away from it." That is the only way to find rest. We must stay in our place, perform our duty, bear our burden, and do God's will. That is the footpath to peace.

The rest which Christ gives is rest in the soul--not external ease. One may have it in all its sweetness and fullness, and yet have to toil unceasingly, and endure continual suffering and pain. Some of the holiest Christians the world has ever known, have been the greatest sufferers--but meanwhile nothing has been able to break their rest.

Christ's call is not a call to less earnest living; rather it is a call to still greater activity, to more wholehearted service, to work which will count for more. They only can do their work well--who have this rest in their hearts. The restless mind is unfitted for the best work.

The prophet says, "In quietness and in confidence, shall be your strength." The man who accomplishes most, is the man who has calmness in his heart. The prophet says again, "He who believes, shall not be in haste." Some people are always in feverish haste. They rush restlessly from morning until night. This makes them excited, flustered, fretted. The commentaries tell us that the words may be translated, "He who believes shall not fuss." He who has his mind set on God is not in haste. He has the quietness of God in his soul. He is complete master of himself, and never becomes excited. Nothing hinders more in life than hurry.

It is Christ's rest which we need, in order to make our lives calm and strong. Restlessness makes us weak. It unnerves our hand, so that our work is not well done. It disquiets our mind, so that we cannot think clearly. It disturbs our faith, so that we lose our hold upon God and eternal things. We can do our best work in any sphere--only when we are at peace with God. This rest of Christ, instead of sapping our energy and making us less active and enthusiastic in our Master's service--will give us a new secret of strength, and put into our hearts a new impulse to work. Our work lacks power because we are not at rest. Our spiritual life lacks depth--it is too much like the noisy, fussy stream which splutters down the hillside, and too little like the quiet lake that is noiseless and still, its peaceful depths undisturbed by the surface storms. One day of quiet work with the rest of Christ in the heart--will do more for the kingdom of God than a whole month of nervous, restless, fretted activity.

The Bruised Reed and Smoking Flax

By J.C. Philpot


      Preached at Eden Street Chapel, Hampstead Road, on Lord's Day Evening, August 10, 1851

"A bruised reed shall he not break, and smoking flax shall he not quench, till he send forth judgment unto victory." Matthew 12:20

A child of God in himself is all weakness. Others may boast of their strength; he has none, and feels to have none. But it is one thing to subscribe to this truth as a matter of doctrine, and another to be acquainted with it as a matter of inward, personal experience. It must be learnt, painfully for the most part, inwardly learnt under the teachings of the Spirit. Now it is this weakness, experimentally, known and felt, that opens the way for a personal experience of the strength of Christ; for when Paul was groaning under the buffetings of Satan and the festering throbs of the thorn in the flesh, the Lord himself said to him, "My grace is sufficient for thee, for my strength is made perfect in weakness." If, therefore, we know not experimentally what weakness is, we cannot know experimentally what it is to have the strength of Christ made perfect in that weakness.

In our text a tried Christian is set forth under two striking similitudes. He is compared,

1. to a "bruised reed;" and

2. to "smoking flax." And of the Lord it is most graciously said, that this "bruised reed" he will not "break," and this "smoking flax" he will not "quench." Nay more, so far from breaking the one, or quenching the other, he will never leave his gracious work in the soul until he "send forth judgment unto victory." In looking, then, at the words this evening, I shall, as far as the Lord may enable:

I.--Consider the character of the tried Christian under these two similitudes--"A bruised reed," and "smoking flax."

II.--Shew that the gracious Redeemer will not "break" the one, nor "quench" the other; but III.--That he will eventually "send forth judgment unto victory."

I.--Can we find a more striking emblem of weakness than a reed? A Christian is not here compared to an oak that spreads its roots deep in the soil, and tosses its sturdy arms abroad into the sky, that stands the brunt of a thousand storms, and outlives revolving centuries. That were an inappropriate emblem of so feeble, so frail a creature as a needy, necessitous sinner. But when the blessed Spirit would use a similitude most strikingly descriptive of a dependant upon grace, of a pauper upon alms, he takes that simple yet familiar figure of a reed. Let us examine the points of resemblance:

1. A reed, though mean, humble, despicable, unknown, and unnoticed by the eye that rests with admiration on the towering oak or spreading cedar, is yet a partaker of life; and this life is deep down in the root. But the bed in which this root lies, the soil in which and out of which it thrives, spreads, and grows, is not the rich soil of the garden, but the mud and slime of the ditch. Yet, buried as it is in, and overwhelmed beneath this slimy bed, the very region of coldness and death, it is utterly and entirely, in its nature and essence, distinct from it. It is in the ditch, yet not of it; surrounded with its slime, but uncontaminated with its filth; ever in contact with its mire, but clean to the heart's core, and without one particle of mud penetrating into its living tissues. Such is the life of God in the soul; surrounded with all the mud and mire of nature's corruption, yet not only distinct from it, but uncontaminated by it; Did deadness mortify, did temptation smother, did sin corrupt the pure, holy life of God in the soul, long, long ago would it have dropped limb from limb, like the gangrened body of a leper.

Open his Eyes that He may See

With New Testament Eyes: 39  
By Henry Mahan


      2 Kings 6:8-23

The king of Syria made war against Israel. Calling together a council of his servants, he made plans to camp in a certain place and ambush the king of Israel. Elisha sent word to the king to take another route. Each time that the Syrians secretly planned to attack Israel, Elisha warned them and they escaped.

Finally, the king of Syria was convinced that he had a traitor among his servants, who was leaking information to Israel. One of his servants said, 'There is no traitor; but Elisha, the prophet in Israel, tells the king of Israel everything, even what you say in your bedroom.' The king of Syria was told that Elisha was in Dothan; so he sent horses, chariots, and a large army to surround the city and capture Elisha. The servant of Elisha arose early and went out of the house. Seeing the great army of the enemy surrounding them, he cried unto Elisha, 'Alas, my master, what shall we do?' Elisha calmly replied, 'Do not be afraid; they that be with us are more than they that be with them.' This is what King Hezekiah told the people of Judah when the king of Assyria came against them (2 Chron. 32:7-8). 'With them is the arm of flesh; but with us is the Lord our God to help us and to fight our battles.'

When men truly know the Scriptures and the power of God, there is no reason to fear what men can do (Matt. 22:29; Psalm 56:3-4). We do not underestimate the power of Satan, sin, and the world; but our God is greater than all, and he will deliver us.

However, the greatness, grace, and power of God to redeem and deliver sinners, in and through the Lord Jesus Christ, from the overwhelming curse of the law, from the power of sin and Satan, and from death, judgment, and hell, is only seen with the eyes of faith (Matt. 13:15-16). Elisha prayed that God would open the young man's eyes that he might see. May God open our eyes that we may see.

1. The natural eye is blind to spiritual truth as the natural ear does not hear and the natural heart does not understand (1 Cor. 2:9-14; Isa. 64:4). Men read the word of God with a veil over their eyes and minds. Sinners pass, blindfolded by sin, through all the testimonies of redeeming love and grace and see them not nor hear them.

God is everywhere, but the blind see him not.

His great law touches the thoughts and intents of the heart, but men do not see.

Men themselves are guilty, fallen, and far from God; but they do not see their wounds, bruises, and putrefying sores.

Death, judgment, and hell move to meet men at their coming; but they see not. They dance blindly on the edge of hell.

The Lord Jesus came into the world to save sinners, but they saw no beauty about him and knew him not.

Natural blindness keeps a man content in filth, false refuges, and spiritual poverty.

Natural blindness makes men proud, for they see not their ignorance nor his glory.

Only God can open a sinner's eyes, for the hearing ear and the seeing eye are of the Lord (Prov. 20:12). We may put truth before men, but only God can make them to see (Isa. 42:6-8; 2 Cor. 4:6; Psalm 146:8). Once Satan promised to open a man's eyes, but the man saw shame, not glory (Gen. 3:5-7).

2. The Lord does open men's eyes and by his grace gives them spiritual sight and understanding. (v. 17.) 'And the Lord opened the eyes of the young man, and he saw.'

The eye of faith sees what others do not see! Noah saw the flood coming (Heb. 11:7). The disciples saw the deity of Jesus Christ (Matt. 16:13-17). Isaiah complained about the blindness of men, but the Ethiopian saw the glory of Christ when Philip preached Christ from Isaiah's account of his sufferings (Isa. 53:1-6).

The Rainbow in the Clouds

Gospel in Genesis: 12

By Henry Law


      "I have set My rainbow in the clouds, and it will be the sign of the covenant between Me and the earth." Genesis 9:13

In the rainbow there is a charm, of which every eye is conscious. It looks forth through the dark windows of the storm, and earth rejoices in the reviving visit. Its lovely hues proclaim that the gloom is past. It spans the clouds, as the fair herald of returning clearness. Its noble form, its various shades of distinct and blended color, surpass all praise. Admiration can only say--it worthily magnifies its mighty Maker. Such delights become us. The book of nature is the penmanship of God. Every line should be a sanctifying lesson. Enlightened piety sings, "The works of the Lord are great, sought out of all those who have pleasure therein."

But the shining light of the rainbow teaches far more than that our God is excellent to plan, and almighty to perform. To receive its especial instruction we must ponder its birth. Let us go back, then, and take our station by the side of Noah, when it first awakened his grateful thanks. His feet again trod on the solid pavement of earth. But the sound of rushing torrents had left their echo in his ear. The expanse of desolation had not faded from his view. What had been, might be again. Each gathering cloud might mantle the world in final ruin. Each falling raindrop might open the sluices of another deluge. Thus fears would lodge in his breast; and "fear has torment."

From the foreboding patriarch, let us turn to our God. He is glorious in tenderness, and pity, and compassion, and watchful care towards His people. It is His merciful will that they should repose in perfect peace. He invites them to feed by the still waters of confiding love. He would have the wings of each breeze to flutter over them--laden with joy. He would have every shadow to spread the covert of protection. But how will He calm the trembling anxieties of Noah? A word of heaven-sent promise might suffice. But He, who multiplies to pardon, multiplies also to give comfort. His word indeed shall go forth, but it shall go forth sealed with an enduring, ever-speaking seal. He will call a new wonder into being. A smiling offspring of the weeping cloud shall tranquilly assure the earth, that waters have no more a mandate to lay waste. And what is this wonder? An arch, cheering and bright, embraces the skies. On a scroll of variegated light there is inscribed, These storms drop fertility--they break to bless and not to injure.

How is this wonder framed? Jehovah's works are sublime in their simplicity. The sun looks forth from the opposite skies. Its rays enter the descending drops, and returning to the eye in broken pencils, paint the rainbow on the illuminated background. Heaven dries up the tears of earth, and the high roof above seems to take up the Gospel-hymn, "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will towards men." Thus the rainbow is more than an evidence of skill and power. It is the brilliant signet on God's preserving arm. It is the golden impress, by which He ratifies the covenant, that "the waters shall no more become a flood to destroy all flesh."

But faith looks further. It is ever intent to catch the image of its beloved Lord. It has learned the sound principle, that the whole field of nature reflects the beauties and glories of Jesus. It has read the testimony, that He is the "true Light," and the "true Bread," and the "true Vine." Hence it is not slow to inquire, Is He not too the truth of the "faithful witness in Heaven?" While it thus listens to drink in some Gospel-music from the rainbow, the word sounds plainly: "For a brief moment I abandoned you, but with great compassion I will take you back. In a moment of anger I turned my face away for a little while. But with everlasting love I will have compassion on you," says the Lord, your Redeemer. "Just as I swore in the time of Noah that I would never again let a flood cover the earth and destroy its life, so now I swear that I will never again pour out My anger on you. For the mountains may depart and the hills disappear, but even then I will remain loyal to you. My covenant of blessing will never be broken," says the Lord, who has mercy on you. Isaiah 54:7-10.

Visions and Dreams

The Wider Life: Chapter 2 

By J.R. Miller


      We owe everything that is good and beautiful--to our visions. They lead us ever to higher things. They show us glimpses of character, of attainment, of achievement, beyond what we have yet reached, and the beauty or the excellence visioned before us--starts in us a discontent with our present state and a longing to climb to the loftier heights!

An artist has a vision of something lovely--and paints it on his canvas, or hews it out of his block of marble. An inventor has in his mind a dream of his invention, something which he believes will prove a blessing to the world. He thinks and broods, and at last gives the fruit of his thinking and brooding, a form that makes it practical.

Columbus was a dreamer. It was the belief in his day that there was nothing beyond the sea. He had a vision of a continent beyond, and heard the bidding, "Go and find it!" Learned men laughed at his dream--but he could not put it out of his mind, and, sailing forth, he found a new world. Thus all progress and all advancement, have been achieved. Men have dreamed and followed their visions and made them real.

One of the promised results of the coming of the Holy Spirit, was the bringing of larger, fuller life. "Your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams." It is supposed that old men do not dream any more. Their attainments and achievements are all in the past. But this need not be so. If this world were all, if death ended everything, there would be little use for the old to dream. They cannot do much in the small margin of life left to them. But death is not the end of life; it goes on beyond, infinitely and forever. Paul was an old man--but he was as full of hopes and enthusiasms as if he had been in the midst of youth. He was old when he described his scheme of life as forgetting things behind--and reaching forward to things ahead.

Let not the old man think for a moment, that his work is done, though he has lived his threescore and ten years, even though he is physically feeble. Let him keep his heart young, though his hairs are white. Let him keep his enthusiasms, though he is feeble and frail in body. Let him keep love in his heart, love for people, love for young people and children, sympathy with human need. Let him keep interested in others, not allowing himself to withdraw from active life, and then in a little while shrink away into a shriveled shell of decrepitude and uselessness.

Old people with ripe experience can be of great service to younger people. "Old men for counsel." Let the old people feel that their work is not yet done, that the world still needs them, that they have no right to lapse into indolence. "Your old men shall dream dreams", dreams of beauty, of helpfulness, of service--and then go out to make their dreams come true. Sometimes we hear it said, that miracles have ceased. This may be true in a sense--but it is not true that communication between heaven and earth has ceased. The ladder has not been taken down. God still puts into men's hearts inspirations, desires, hopes, longings. Every case of human need or distress that makes its appeal to us--is a heavenly vision, calling us to do an act of kindness.

There is a pleasant legend of Martin. He was a soldier. It was in the depth of winter. One bitter night a beggar, scantily clad, asked alms of the soldier. All he had was his soldier's cloak. Drawing his sword he cut the cloak in half, gave one part of it to the poor man and was content himself with the other part. That night he had a wondrous vision. He beheld Christ on his throne. Looking closely, he saw that the King in his glory was wearing the half of the cloak which he had given to the beggar that night. Amazed, he heard the King say, "This cloak, has Martin given to me."

The Helper

By Mary Wilder Tileston

      The mountains shall depart, and the hills be re.moved; but my kindness shall not depart from thee, neither shall the covenant of my peace be removed, saith the Lord that hath mercy on thee.
         --ISAIAH 54:10

      There hath not failed one word of all His good promise.
         --1 KINGS 8:56

      THERE is a persuasion in the soul of man that he is here for cause, that he was put down in this place by the Creator to do the work for which He inspires him, that thus he is an overmatch for all antagonists that could combine against him.
         --RALPH WALDO EMERSON

      It is impossible for that man to despair who remembers that his Helper is omnipotent; and can do whatsoever He please. Let us rest there awhile,--He can, if He please: and He is infinitely loving, willing enough; and He is infinitely wise, choosing better for us than we can do for ourselves. God invites and cherishes the hopes of men by all the variety of His providence. He that believes does not make haste, but waits patiently, till the times of refreshment come, and dares trust God for the morrow, and is no more solicitous for the next year than he is for that which is past.
         --JEREMY TAYLOR

THE WOMAN OF THE SHATTERED ROMANCES, THE WOMAN OF SYCHAR

Biblical Characters, 6 -
By Clovis G. Chappell


John 4:4-26

Look, will you, at this picture. There sits a man in the strength and buoyancy of young manhood. He is only thirty or thereabouts. About him is the atmosphere of vigor and vitality that belong to the spring-time of life. But to-day he is a bit tired. There is a droop in his shoulders. His feet and sandals are dusty. His garment is travel stained. He has been journeying all the morning on foot. And now at the noon hour he is resting.

The place of his resting is an old well curb. The well is one that was digged by hands that have been dust long centuries. This traveller is very thirsty. But he has no means of drawing the water, so he sits upon the well curb and waits. His friends who are journeying with him have gone into the city to buy food. Soon they will return and then they will eat and drink together.

As he looks along the road that leads into the city he sees somebody coming. That somebody is not one of his disciples. It is a woman. As she comes closer he sees that she is clad in the cheap and soiled finery of her class. At once he knows her for what she is. He reads the dark story of her sinful life. He understands the whole fetid and filthy past through which she has journeyed as through the stenchful mud of a swamp.

As she approaches the well she glares at the Stranger seated upon the curb with bold and unsympathetic gaze. She knows his nationality at once. And all her racial resentment is alive and active.

A bit to her surprise the Stranger greets her with a request for a favor. "Give me a drink," he says. Christ was thirsty. He wanted a draught from Jacob's well. But far more He wanted a draught from this woman's heart. She was a slattern, an outcast. She was lower, in the estimation of the average Jew, than a street dog. Yet this weary Christ desired the gift of her burnt out and impoverished affections. So He says, "Give me to drink."

There is no scorn in the tone, and yet the woman is not in the least softened by it. She rather glories in the fact that she has Him at a disadvantage. "Oh, yes," she doubtless says to herself, "you Jews with your high-handed pride, you Jews with your bitter contempt for us Samaritans--you never have any use for us except when you need us." "How is it," she says, "that you being a Jew ask drink of me who am a woman of Samaria? You don't mean that you would take a drink at the hand of an unclean thing like me, do you?"

But this charming Stranger does not answer her as she had expected. He makes no apology for His request. Nor does He show the least bit of resentment or contempt. He does not answer scorn with scorn, but rather answers with a surprising tenderness: "If thou knewest the gift of God and who it is that saith unto thee, Give me to drink, thou wouldest have asked of Him and He would have given thee living water."

Mark what the Master says. It is one of those abidingly tragic "ifs"--"If thou knewest." "The trouble with you," He says, "is that you do not know the marvelous opportunity with which you now stand face to face. Your trouble is that you are unaware of how near you are to the Fountain of Eternal Life. You do not realize how near your soiled fingers are to clasping wealth that is wealth forever more."

"If thou knewest"--if you only knew how He could still the fitful fever of your heart. If you only knew the message of courage and hope and salvation that He could speak through your lips, you would not be so listless and so careless and so indifferent as the preacher is trying to preach. If you knew the burdens that are ahead of you--if you knew the dark and lonely places where you will sorely need a friend, you would not lightly ignore the friendship and abiding companionship that is offered you in Christ Jesus, our Lord.

Faith, Hope, and Love

By J.C. Philpot


Preached at Providence Chapel, Eden Street, London, on Tuesday Evening, August 25, 1846


"Your work of faith, and labour of love, and patience of hope." 1 Thessalonians 1:3

I cannot but admire the affection and tenderness that breathe through the epistles of the Apostle Paul; and especially in those to the church of God at Thessalonica. Largely had "the God of all grace" bestowed the gift of love on his servant Paul; and largely do we see this grace manifested in every epistle that flowed from his inspired pen. But what drew this affection and tenderness forth? It lay in his bosom as the gift of God; but it was drawn forth by the grace that he saw manifested in the Lord's people. This is the case wherever love to the brethren dwells in the heart. Immediately that the image of Christ is seen in another, love spontaneously flows forth. Immediately that we believe there is grace in any person with whom we are brought into contact, a union is felt which love cements. It was so with the Apostle Paul. What drew out of his bosom the affectionate expressions to the church of God at Thessalonica, which we read in these epistles? He himself shall tell us: "Knowing, brethren beloved, your election of God." (1 Thess. 1:4.) He knew in his soul that they belonged to the election of grace. And what gave him that knowledge? Had he been up into heaven, and there seen their names recorded in the Book of Life? Had a bright messenger from the Lord of hosts appeared, and told him that the parties to whom he was writing were among God's elect family? It was by no such supernatural revelation that he knew those to whom he was writing to be the children of God. He himself, in this epistle, tells us whence his knowledge sprang: "For our gospel came not unto you in word only, but also in power, and in the Holy Ghost, and in much assurance." The Lord had sent him to preach the gospel among them; they had received the word from his lips, "not as the word of man, but as it is in truth, the word of God, which effectually worketh also in them that believe." (2:13.) They "had turned to God from idols, to serve the living and true God; and to wait for his Son from heaven, whom he raised from the dead, even Jesus, which delivered us from the wrath to come." (1:9, 10) They had "received the word in much affliction, with joy of the Holy Ghost," (1:6); and became "followers of the churches of God, which in Judea were in Christ Jesus." (2:14.)

It was these things which drew forth the tender affection of his bosom towards them. It was because they were thus taught and blessed that he felt soul union to, and soul communion with then. And it was a feeling persuasion of what God had done for their souls, that drew forth these tender and affectionate expressions of his love to them. In consequence of this love, he tells them that he "gave thanks to God always for them all, making mention of them in his prayers." No sooner did he bow his knee before the Lord, than the churches among whom he had gone ministering came before his eyes, and fell warm upon his heart; and thus he was led--not as a matter of duty or privilege, but by the blessed Spirit laying them upon his conscience, and drawing forth the tender affections of his heart toward them--to make mention of them in his prayers before the throne of grace. And this is the only prayer for others that the Lord really indites. Persons have said to me sometimes, 'Remember me in your prayers.' I have answered, or could have answered them, 'I often cannot pray for myself, and how am I to pray for you?' But as when the Lord lays our personal wants upon our conscience, we lay them before his footstool, so when the Lord brings those whom we love in the Spirit upon our heart, and raises up in our souls a feeling of affection toward them, we pray also for them--not as a matter of duty, nor because they have asked us to pray for them; but it springs up out of our souls, as the spontaneous presentation of our petitions on their behalf. And no other prayer but this, for ourselves or for others, will bring an answer.