When we turn to the leaders of the latter years of the Kingdom time of G.o.d"s teacher-nation, the prophetic time, there is one thing that stands out sharply in the men G.o.d used. It was this, a man"s inner personal life and experience were made use of to an unusual degree. It is as though the sacred inner life were sacrificed. The holy privacies were laid bare to the public gaze. The sweets of the inner holy of holies of the personal life were given up. The people were so far G.o.d-hardened that only _acted_ preaching, _lived_ messages, that took it out of one"s very life, with pain in the taking, had any effect.
This is most markedly so in the case of _Hosea_, whose experience it seems almost if not wholly impossible for us to take in.[114] It is true that the Christianized West has conceptions of personal privacy to which the East is a stranger. Yet, even so, the way in which these men were asked to yield up their inner personal lives, must have been a most marked thing to these Orientals. For G.o.d used it as the one thing apparently, the extreme thing, to touch their hearts with His appeal.
_Isaiah_ had just such peculiar experiences. The birth of a son is planned for, and told of for the purpose of making more emphatic the message to the dull ears and slow heart of the nation.[115] His two sons bore names of strange meaning, as a means of teaching truths that were peculiarly distasteful to the people. Isaiah takes one of these strangely named sons as he goes to deliver a message to the king. And the son standing by his father"s side is a reminder in his name of a disagreeable truth.[116] A little later the man is actually required to go about barefooted, and without clothing sufficient for conventional respectability, and to continue this for three years.[117] When we remember that he was not an erratic extremist, but a sober-minded, fine-grained gentleman of refinement and of a good family, it helps us to understand a little how hard-hearted and stubborn were a people that could be appealed to only in such a way.
And it tells us, too, how utterly surrendered was the man who was willing thus to give up his private personal life. How much easier to have been simply an earnest, eloquent preacher, with his inner personal life lived free from public gaze, a thing sacred to himself. Following meant the giving up of the sacred private life to a strangely marked degree, for G.o.d to use.
Even more marked are the experiences that _Jeremiah_ was asked and consented to go through. It would seem as though the repeated conspiracies against his life, the repeated imprisonments in vile dungeons dangerous to health and life, and the shame of being put in the public stocks before the rabble, would have been much for G.o.d to ask, and for a man to give.
But there is something that goes much farther and deeper into the very marrow of his life than these. He is bidden not to marry, not to have a family life of his own.[118] And he obeyed. This was to be so only and solely as a message to the people. A message couched in such startling language they might listen to. Again we must remember the Oriental setting to appreciate the significance of this. In the East the unit of society is not the individual but the _family_. A man"s marriage is planned for by the family, as a means of building up the family. To be childless and especially son-less was felt to be peculiarly unfortunate, almost bordering on disgrace.
This meant for Jeremiah not only the loss of personal joys and delights, but that his line would be broken off from his father"s family. He would be without heir, or future, in the family history. So following meant going yet deeper into the inner personal life, for the sake of G.o.d"s plan.
This giant"s strength is revealed in nothing more than in his tear-wet laments over his people. And he gave all this strength to following. He said "Yes" to G.o.d"s need and request, though it must have taken his very life to say it.
But _Ezekiel_ was asked to do something even beyond this. He was the messenger of G.o.d to the colony of Hebrew exiles in a.s.syria. His accounts of the visions of G.o.d reveal a remarkable power of detailed description, and a remarkably strong mentality. Strange to say, these people in captivity are yet harder to reach than were their fathers in their native land. Yet, not strange, for the human heart is the same when it won"t open to the purifying of the upper currents of air. Here the man himself literally became the message. He actually lay upon his left side for thirteen months and then on his right side for six weeks longer.
During all that time he ate food that was particularly repugnant, and it was carefully weighed out, and the water as carefully measured out for his use. He had to rise, no doubt, for various reasons, but the bulk of the time for nearly fifteen months he lay out where all could see him. His fellow-exiles, I suppose, looked and wondered, laughed and gossiped perhaps, and then as time wore on, they thought and thought more, and were awed as they began slowly to take in the meaning of this strange message of G.o.d. Thereafter Ezekiel was the leader, to whose house the leaders of the colony came, and to whose words they intently listened.
But there was a yet deeper meaning to following than we have found yet. It is a meaning that awes one"s heart into amazed silence. He was married.
His wife is spoken of very tenderly as "the desire of thine eyes." He was told that she would be taken away out of his life. She would die. That was the great thing. Then he was not to mourn outwardly for her; this was the second thing. He was to be before the people as though the greatest sorrow of his life had not happened. Is it any wonder the people came astonished to know what this meant? The simple brevity with which he tells of the occurrence takes hold of one"s heart. "So I spake unto the people in the morning; and at even my wife died; and I did in the morning as I was commanded."[119] There was no questioning, no hesitancy of action, but a simple, prompt obedience, even though his heart was breaking. This was what G.o.d asked of him. G.o.d needed this in His dealings with these people of His in whom His world-plan centred. How desperate must have been the need that called for such an experience as this! Ezekiel said "Yes" even to this. Surely there was here some of that Calvary meaning, of the secondary sort, of which we have spoken together. Following meant not only giving his personality and life, but now it meant giving what must have been more than life itself.
Through Fire.
To _Daniel_ following meant something essentially different. He was not a messenger to his own people, nor their leader. He was a messenger to the great world-rulers of his time, through the visions he interpreted, and through his unbending faithfulness and purity of life; The thing that stands out largest is the life he lived, a life of simplicity in habit, of purity and consistency, with an unwavering faith in G.o.d. G.o.d _could_ use him to speak to the great emperors. So he helped G.o.d to get His message to men so hard to reach through a human channel.
Following meant a pure life. It was Daniel"s insistence on being pure and true that shut him up with the wild beasts. And it was through his unflinching fidelity and persistence that G.o.d could send His message anew, in the most public manner, out to all the millions of that great world-empire. Following meant to a marked degree a pure life as the basis of the service rendered. It proved to mean a lions" den, _and_ the power of G.o.d overcoming the instincts of ravenous beasts. But clear beyond these it meant that G.o.d could reach His world with His message to an unusual extent.
_Daniel"s three companions_ helped G.o.d by means of a most thrilling experience, a really terrible experience. G.o.d had been pleading with the great Nebuchadnezzar through Daniel"s message. Now He wants to speak again in a way that will compel attention. He needs these three young men. They consent to be His messengers. It meant going through a terrible ordeal.
They simply remained true in their personal devotion to G.o.d. This was the thing G.o.d needed, and used. Everything of use to G.o.d roots down in the life. The personal plea of the great king, and the prospect of a horrible death fail alike to move them. They probably had quite resigned themselves to the fate of being burned alive for the truth. But G.o.d had a different purpose. He was thinking about this ruler with whom He dealt so personally and unusually, time and again.
The three men, walking quietly up and down in the seven-times heated furnace in company with a glorious looking person "like a son of the G.o.ds"--this was the message G.o.d wanted spoken to the ruler He was pleading with. His strangely marvellous power, and His personal regard for His faithful followers--this was what G.o.d was trying to say to Nebuchadnezzar.
He asked the use of these three young men. Their personal loyalty to Himself even unto death--this was what He wanted. _Through_ this He reached the heart of the man He was after.
The experience of these men is an intensely interesting study. It was a fearful ordeal that they went through. Yet it was wholly mental, and of the spirit. They suffered no pain of body, nor inconvenience. The fire only made them free, burned up the bonds that held them. It took great strength of will, of decision, to stay steady through all the fearful test. Yet _nothing happened to their bodies_ except to help them. G.o.d took care of that. They gave Him what He asked. He gave them more than they expected. They probably expected death and were willing. G.o.d had a deeper plan He was working out. How glad they must have been that they followed fully, that they didn"t disappoint G.o.d.
Following meant simply being true, even though the road led through a furnace. G.o.d would attend to the furnace. Their part was simply to follow where He led. And our G.o.d is needing just such acted messages to-day. He is longing for just such opportunities to reveal His power and love, not merely _to us_, but through us to His world.
Let us take time for one more of these faithful followers. This time it is a young woman. It is at the most critical juncture of G.o.d"s plan, thus far. He needed a woman whom He could use to bring His Son, and could use further to mother that Son"s early years. All unconsciously Mary of Nazareth and of Bethlehem was fitting into His plan in her life, her simple, pure, G.o.dly, personal life. We can understand that G.o.d wooed her especially to such a life of heart devotion as a preparation for the after part. And she said "Yes" to all His wooings, never suspecting what was to come of it. You never know how much a simple "Yes" to G.o.d may mean, _or_ a "No." You never know how much of service may grow out of the true life.
Yet all true service is something coming out of the life.
Then the plan of G.o.d was made known to her,--the marvellous plan, yet so simple to Him. And again she said a simple, awed "Yes." She waits only long enough to ask the natural, woman"s question as to method. There was no questioning of G.o.d"s power, what He could do, and would do. It came to mean hurting suspicion, peculiarly hurting to as pure and gentle a soul as she. Apparently this was unavoidable. It speaks volumes for her openness of both mind and heart to G.o.d, that she instantly took in Gabriel"s meaning, and could take it in that such an unprecedented thing was possible. It would have saved her the cruel suspicion if Joseph had been told beforehand, but the whole probability is that he could not have taken it in that such a thing was possible.
Following meant the glad "Yes" to the early wooing up to a pure devoted life. It meant saying a further "Yes" to the plan of G.o.d even though something so unusual, and with it the misunderstanding and cruel suspicion, on the one point most sensitive to a woman, and by the one nearest her. But she said "Yes" both times. She let G.o.d have the use of her life for His plan. That was all He asked. That is all He asks. But that is what He asks.
These are a few of the glorious company of followers, the goodly fellowship of those who have helped G.o.d in His pa.s.sionate plan for His world, the n.o.ble army of willing ones. But the number is incomplete. The plan is not yet fully worked out. The need is not yet wholly met. It was never more urgent. To-day the insistent voice still comes as of old, asking you and me to follow.
And no one can tell how much _his_ following may mean to G.o.d in reaching His world.
The Glory Of The Goal,--Face to Face
"With You Always.".
Have you ever _seen Christ_? No, I don"t mean have you been to some uplifting convention, and been tremendously caught by some talented, earnest speaker, and been swayed by the atmosphere of the hour and place, and felt that all was not just as it should be with you; and then you prayed more, and made some new resolves, or re-made some old ones, and left off some things, and put on some things; I don"t mean that, but this--have you ever _seen Christ_?
No, of course, you don"t see Him with these outer eyes. Well, then just what do I mean practically? _This_--has there come to you a real sense of Himself? of His presence? of the tremendous plea His presence makes? and, possibly, you don"t know just how to answer. You say, "I"m not just sure,"
or "How can I know?" Well, you"ll never say it that way, nor ask that question again after the experience has come.
May I tell you a little bit about it? Yet, mark you, only "a little bit."
You can never _tell_ another one what it means to see _Him_. When once the sight has come, every word you utter about it, or Him, seems so lame and weak that you despair of ever being able to let out at your lips what has gotten into you. But let me try, even if lamely, in the eager yearning that it may help you know if, thus far, you have missed seeing _Him_, and maybe--so much better--help you to _see_ Him. For until you have--well, nothing, absolutely nothing, is worth while.
When you see Him there comes such a sense of _His purity_ that, instantly, you are down on your face in utter despair, because of your own self--your impurity; your lack of purity; the sharp contrast between Him and you. You feel that young Isaiah"s outcry in the temple that morning is wholly inadequate. "Unclean lips," is it? Why, the whole thing, from innermost recesses clear through and out, is unclean. Then it dawns upon you that this is really what Isaiah is feeling and trying to express in his "woe"
and "undone."
And that vivid sense of contrast between Him and you never grows less, but more acute and deeper. Even when you come to know Him better, and the sweet peace comes with its untellable balm to your spirit, yet you are always conscious of the contrast, and you know that _you_ are not pure; only _He_ is; and all you can do is to keep under the cleansing stream of His blood, very low down.
"Never higher than His pierced feet, Never farther than His bleeding side."
With that comes such a sense of _Himself_, of His--what word can tell it?--His glory,--which means simply His character, what He is in Himself--that again words can never tell out the sense of your own littleness; no, that is not the word, your own _nothingness_. And now you recall, with an inner shrinking, how well you have thought of yourself, how much you have talked about yourself and your view of things, perhaps in the language of a properly phrased humility. Now you are dumb. His presence dumbs you. You begin to wonder at the strange self-confidence and self-complacence that have been so common even in your holiest moments and experiences. It seems, in this Presence, as though you could never open your lips again--except to speak of _Him_.
Then your eyes are drawn more intently to His person,--His face, His wounds. The scars where the thorns tore His great, patient face; the grief-whitened hair, draped above those deep, tender, unspeakable eyes; that strangely rough place in the palm so lovingly outstretched; the spear-scar, the nail-marks in those feet coming over to you,--these grip you. Their meaning begins to come. There"s cleansing; yes, blessed fact!
there"s _cleansing_ from this horrid impurity whose stain you are so conscious of. Yet, what it cost Him! What my impurity forced upon Him!
Yes, cleansed; blessed Jesus! What a relief to be cleansed! Yet I must _stay_ under the stream; only so can the sense of relief be continual.
And I must stay down on my face at His feet. It is the only place for such as I discover myself to be. Yet what grace to let me stay at His feet!
Have you _seen Christ_? This is what begins to come when you have--His purity, your contrasted lack; His glorious self, your own nothingness in yourself; His suffering--the price of your cleansing. This is only a beginning, yet a beginning that comes to be the continuous thing.
Closer Acquaintance.
After a little, as you are sitting still in His presence, and have become a bit quieter after that flush of first emotions at seeing Him, you begin to be caught all anew with how _lovable_ He is. This takes great hold of you. I overheard a once-drunken, now thoroughly changed man, up in Scotland, as he was fairly pouring out his heart in prayer in his sweet, broad Scotch,--"Once Thou didst have no form or comeliness to me, but now"--and it seemed as if all the pent-up feelings within rushed at once to flood-tide--"_now_ Thou art the chiefest among ten thousand, and the One altogether lovely." And the high-water mark of the flood was touched on "chiefest" and "altogether."
That first look made you think mostly of your-self--an inner loathing. Now you think of _Him_. He is so lovable, so true and tender, and patient and pure; again your language gives out, and you feel better content just to look without trying to use words. They"re such poor things when it comes to telling about Him. He is so much more than anything that can be said about Him. His will is so wise and thoughtful and far-reaching and loving.
Strange how stupid you have been in insisting so strenuously and blindly on having your own way. His plan, His thought about everything concerning you, is _so_ superb. And He asks me to be His follower. What joy! What if the way be a bit rough; it"s following _Him_; that"s enough. He calls me to be His personal friend. I can hardly take it in,--His _friend_? Yes, that"s His own word. Well, let any thorns tear because of the narrowing of the road; I"m His friend, man, do you hear? His _friend_,--do you get hold of that word? What can any thorn thing do against that!
"We" may go hand in hand now,--His is pierced; I feel the scar where our hands touch. But we"re together at last, _the_ thing He has been working for. I can feel His presence. I can hear the low music of His voice within. Thorns don"t count here. Oh, yes, I _feel_ them; they haven"t lost their power to slash and sting,--but--with _Him_ so close alongside!--Wondrous Christ, here I am at Thy feet, Thy glad slave forever. I"m wholly Thine. It"s my own choice. I"ll never go any other way by Thy grace. This is the second bit that comes, the glad surrender of life to His mastery. Do you know about this? You will, when you"ve _seen Christ_.