Part 6

It is a safe rule never to repeat anything to the disadvantage of another, unless absolutely necessary. The golden rule applies here as everywhere, "Think, if you are tempted to retail a bit of personal slander, how you would like it if the case were your own—if it were yourself or your wife or daughter that was attacked." Think that every fellow-Christian is a member of the Lord's body, and that in wounding the members you wound also the Head. Another good rule is never to repeat conversation. We all need the prayer, "Set a watch, O Lord, before my mouth, and keep the door of my lips." (Ps. cxli. 3.) Finally, since it is out of the abundance of the heart that the mouth speaketh, let us strive to keep our hearts and minds as become the temples of the Holy Ghost, pure and clean, and admit no visitors therein but such as are worthy of that greatest and most honored of all guests.

Ps. cxli. St. James iii.

_FOURTH FRIDAY IN LENT._

_THE GREAT TEMPTER._

"ONE thing I would not let slip: I took notice that poor Christian was so confounded that he did not know his own voice; and thus I perceived it. Just when he was come over against the mouth of the burning pit, one of the wicked ones got behind him, and stepped up softly to him, and whisperingly suggested many grievous blasphemies to him, which he verily thought had proceeded from his own mind. This put Christian more to it than anything that he met with before, even to think that he now blasphemed Him that he loved before. Yet if he could have helped it, he would not have done it; but he had not the discretion either to stop his ears, or to know whence these blasphemies came."

Does not this passage of Bunyan's describe the occasional experience of many a Christian? We find ourselves assailed by doubts and fears, by hard thoughts of our Father in Heaven, by wicked suggestions of all sorts, till we are ready to despair of ourselves, and to think ourselves hypocrites or castaways.

How it is that Satan contrives to inject these evil suggestions, or why he should be permitted to do so, I cannot tell, any more than I can tell why evil should exist at all. It is a part of that great mystery which may perhaps be explained in a future life, but certainly not here. The practical question is, How are we to meet these assaults, and what is the best way to repel them?

An old writer has said that the best way to meet temptations is to deal with them as one does with dogs which run out to bark at passengers—walk straight on, and take no notice of them. This is, in many cases, a good rule. Ignore the tempter altogether. Hold no parley with him, but go straight on with whatever you are doing. He will grow tired after a while, and let you alone. But if you must needs fight him—and one cannot always escape the contest—be sure to use the weapons your great Captain has put into your hands, and no other. Take the shield of faith. Repel every doubt with an "I believe" and an "I know." Be sure you are familiar with your sword, which is the Word of God. Above all, never for one moment give up the contest. The Seneca Indians have the correct theory on this subject. They hold that no evil spirit or demon can hurt a man while he fights it, and does not give way to fear; but that if he does so give way, it is all over with him. All the powers of darkness combined cannot drag the weakest disciple from his Saviour's arms so long as the will holds fast to its Lord. Remember this, and show yourselves men.

Remember, too, that there is a sure refuge always at hand, always open, always strong to save. In old times, he who fled for refuge to the altar of the church or temple was safe from his foe. So now, that persecuted saint who takes refuge in the presence of God is in "a little sanctuary." "In the time of trouble He shall hide me in His tabernacle; yea, in the secret place of His dwelling shall He hide me." (Ps. xxvii. 5.) "He shall defend thee under His wings, and thou shalt be safe under His feathers." (Ps. xci. 4.) Safe in that sanctuary, and hidden under those wings, we may bid defiance to Satan and all his crew. The Lord shall fight for us, and we shall hold our peace. (Ex. xiv. 14.)

Let us, then, go boldly forward in the race set before us; watchful indeed and wary, but trusting in the power and love of our Captain, who knows our temptations and trials far better than we ourselves. "In that He Himself hath suffered being tempted, He is able to succor them that are tempted." (Heb. ii. 18.) Let us cultivate sense of God's Presence. Believe me, it is a thing to be cultivated. "If God be for us, who can be against us?" His power is on our side so soon as our will is united to His will by faith and an honest intention.

Let us always remember, for our comfort, that temptations are not sins, else would our Lord not have been without sin. It is only when our wills consent to them that they become so. "You cannot keep those birds from flying over your head," said John Wesley to a young disciple who asked for counsel on this subject, "but you can keep them from making nests in your hair.", But never, "never" play or trifle with temptation. Never willfully put yourself in its way. When you do, you give Satan an advantage of which he is not slow to avail himself. It is a story told by some author of antiquity that the devil once entered into a young Christian woman who was present at a show of gladiators. Being summoned to leave her, he refused, declaring that he had found her on his ground, and she was therefore his lawful prey. We may face all the hosts of hell when our Lord's business makes it needful, and we may be sure that in doing so we have the Lord on our side; but if we cross willfully the line between right and wrong in the pursuit of pleasure or business, we have no right to think that God's presence will go with us there. Nay, we should be careful not to approach that line too closely. In time of war, the safe place is not near the front, and above all not on the neutral ground between the armies. There we shall probably be treated as the enemy of both sides. Let our abiding be on the everlasting hills of God's truth and law, where His sun always shines, and where no foe can ever come.

Ps. xci. 1 Peter v.

_FOURTH SATURDAY IN LENT._

_HEARTINESS._

IN the collect which we have been considering, we find an old-fashioned word which means a great deal. We ask God to look upon our "hearty" desires. A hearty desire is one into which we put our whole heart. There may be many things which we would like well enough to have for our own. There are many wishes which we should be pleased to have gratified. But, after all, we do not care enough about them to make any special effort in the matter. But when we heartily desire a thing, we work for it. We take every means to bring about the gratification of our wish, and we do not easily give up and sit down contented without it.

It is so in religious matters. A careless or worldly man may have at times an uneasy feeling that all is not right with him. He hears a rousing sermon perhaps. Some friend or acquaintance dies suddenly, and he wonders how he would fare if the same fate should overtake himself. He thinks he really will take time to consider the matter at some future day when he shall not be so busy. He even tries to pray a little, though he does not know well how to set about it. But his heart is not in the matter, and the impression soon passes away, leaving the man in a worse case than before; for, be it observed, nothing hardens the heart like a stifled conviction.

It is to be feared that this half-heartedness is the true reason why so many prayers are unanswered, and why so many professed disciples of our Lord have so little comfort in their religion, and do so little credit to their profession. They are half-hearted. They have no earnestness in the matter, and would even think such earnestness out of place, and fanatical. They can show and feel enough of enthusiasm on the subject of a business enterprise, a game of baseball, a new fashion, a new opera-singer; but speak to such an one of enthusiasm in religious matters, and he will look at you in amazement, and think you a little cracked. He professes to believe all the articles of the Christian faith, and bows his head in the creed with all propriety—in church; but talk to him of Heaven and Hell, of the love of God, and the judgments of God as present realities, and you make him uncomfortable. He becomes conscious of his own deficiencies, and the feeling is not agreeable. He will get away as soon he can, and probably call you a Methodist behind your back, if he does not do so to your face.

This half-heartedness is a fatal hindrance to growth in grace. I fear many pray for holy hearts, who would, after all, be sorry to have them. A man prays for grace to cast away the works of darkness, but there are, perhaps, certain works of darkness which are profitable in a business point of view, and he has no desire to cast them away. A woman asks that she may perceive and know what things she ought to do, but she is conscious of certain duties half hidden in the background of her mind and conscience, on which she does not care to be enlightened, because the fulfilling of them would be inconvenient. She prays for grace to withstand the world, but she does not really wish to withstand it, because she loves some of its gifts, and does not mean to throw them away. So people go on, trying to serve two masters, to please God and themselves, and getting no real satisfaction from either. They wonder what those mean who talk of the blessedness of service, of communion with God, of comfort in affliction, and the like, and are tempted to regard all such utterances either as fanaticism or pretence, because there is nothing in their own experience to correspond with them.

Is it any wonder that such prayers are not answered, and that such service is not blessed? Would you like it yourself in a child or servant? Surely not.

Let me beg of you, dear fellow-servant of our blessed Master, to examine yourself in this matter, and see if you do not find therein the reason why you have no more comfort in your religion; no more peace and joy and readiness to work for Him who has wrought such great things for us. Is the sign of the cross still on your forehead, or have the kisses of the world worn it away? Do you really and truly "love" God as you love your husband or children, if you have them? Are you ready to sacrifice anything for Him? Suppose that He should offer to release you at this moment from every sin, would you be willing to have Him do it?

This whole-hearted service no doubt has its trials. Our Lord Himself has told us that. "All that would live godly in Jesus Christ shall suffer persecution." (2 Tim. iii. 12.) "If they have called the master of the house Beelzebub, how much more shall they call them of His household?" (St. Matt. x. 25.) You cannot be faithful to the great King without offending His enemies. You cannot really renounce the world without angering the world. You may not have to meet with such persecutions as the early disciples did, but you will probably be called peculiar, affected, Methodistical. But fear nothing. You may, and probably will, meet with even more serious assaults. Satan will rage when he sees you in earnest, and try his best to bar your path, or win you away from it. But again I say, never fear. The Lord is on your side, and will stretch out His right hand to be your defense. He will feed you with the hidden manna, and give you to drink of the water of Life freely. You shall receive the mystical gift; the white stone wherein is a name written, which no man knoweth saving he that receiveth it. (Rev. ii. 17.) Passing through the valley of misery, you shall use it for a well. The wilderness of this world shall blossom as the rose, and the thorny road lead you surely to the city of the great King.

Isa. xii. Rev. ii.

_FOURTH SUNDAY IN LENT._

_REFRESHMENT._

MID-LENT Sunday is also called Refreshment Sunday—a very old name, probably given with reference to the subject of the Gospel for the day, which is the feeding of the five thousand on the lake of Galilee. Dr. Gouldburn, in his invaluable book on the collects, has shown the connection between the collect, Epistle, and Gospel for the day, all of which are full of matter for reflection. Let us for the present confine our attention to the Gospel, and try, by reverent consideration, to make real to ourselves this wonderful miracle of our Lord's, and see what lesson it has for us.

It had been a time of special activity for our Lord and His more immediate followers. The apostles had just returned from their first preaching mission. Two by two, they had passed through the lands of Judah and Galilee, preaching the glad tidings of the Kingdom of Heaven, healing the sick, restoring the deaf and blind, and casting out evil spirits in the name of Jesus. I think of two homely, travel-stained men arriving at nightfall, perhaps, in some lonely little village, and asking the hospitality which was not at such a time likely to be denied them. There is nothing about them to distinguish them from any common wayfarers, as they partake of the plain fare set before them. But there is a cloud over the faces of the hosts. The elder son, the prop of their age, lies on a bed of sickness, and the physician has said that there is no release for him save by death. The guests rise and go to the bedside of the sufferer, who is perhaps hardly conscious of their presence, and one of them takes him by the hand.

"In the name of Jesus of Nazareth, I bid thee arise and walk."

In a moment the dull eyes brighten, the pale cheek flushes, the helpless limbs feel new life, and the young man rises, and throws aside the useless covering, a well man. The amazing news spreads from house to house, and soon the whole village is gathered to hear and see these wonderful strangers. A woman, weeping over her dead babe, hears the news, and thinks—

"Oh, had they but come before my child died!"

Then a strange ray of hope darts into her mind. The strangers have cured one as good as dead. May they perhaps waken the dead also? At all events, it will do no harm to ask them. She wraps herself in her veil, and goes forth bearing the little waxen corpse, and returns with her child safe and smiling in her arms.

Many such stories must the apostles have had to relate to their Master on their return; some tales, possibly, of rejection and scorn from those they would have blest.

But their meeting was destined to be interrupted by sad tidings. The disciples of John the Baptist had heard of the death of their leader, slain by the wiles of a vile woman. They had been permitted by Herod to pay the last sad duties to his body, and that done there was one thing more remaining to them. They "went and told Jesus." Where could they go, save to that wonderful Being to whom their own revered leader had borne witness, and whose forerunner he had always called himself? We are not told in what words He comforted them. But we know how He showed His consideration for their weariness. "Come ye apart into a desert place, and rest awhile." (S. Mark vi. 31.)

I have often thought, if I were to preach an Ash Wednesday sermon, I would choose these words for my text. It is the call which the Church addresses to her children on that day: "Come!" she says. "Come from the hurry of business, and the worse and more distracting hurry of pleasure. Leave your cares behind you for a time. Let the world take care of itself. It will do well enough without you, as it did before you were born, and will do after you are dead. Come into a desert place as yet unspoiled by man, and rest awhile."

We are apt to think of a desert as a barren and sandy waste, destitute of verdure or beauty; but this is not its usual meaning in the Bible. It simply denotes an uncultivated tract, often used as pasture, and covered with grass and flowers in the season. It was to such a place as this that Jesus now retired with the disciples; to the narrow green plain of El Batihah, as it is now called. It was a spot about six miles from Capernaum by sea, surrounded by high hills, and quite uninhabited. Here the weary band might hope for a season of quiet and refreshment.

But they were destined to be disappointed. The boat, retarded probably by contrary winds, seems to have made but slow progress, and when they did at last arrive, they found the ground occupied by an eager crowd, waiting for the healer, of whose powers they had already made proof.

Here was a disappointment indeed! But our Lord shewed no irritation at the failure of His plan. He "was moved with compassion toward them, because they were as sheep not having a shepherd; and He began to teach them many things" (St. John vi. 34), and He also healed their sick.

Here is at once a practical lesson to be learned from our Lord's conduct—I mean that of patience under interruption and disappointment. We make a plan, for some good enterprise probably, and straightway that plan becomes, as it were, something sacred in our eyes, and we are not only grieved, but vexed, if anything happens to hinder us. We feel in our secret souls, if we do not venture to say so, that we are hardly treated, and we are ready to say, nay, perhaps we do say, that we will never undertake any such thing again.

In truth, there are interruptions which it is hard to bear with patience; for instance, the way in which idle people take up the time of busy people with the veriest trifles.

Yet all these things are part of our life's trials, and must be met in the right spirit, and turned to some account. In respect to our plans, the right way, it seems to me, is to sit loosely to them, with a reference in all things to a Will higher than ours. "If the Lord will, we shall do this or that." (St. James iv. 15.) If He takes us away from one piece of work, it may be because He has something better or more important for us to do; or that His wisdom sees that this particular work is better left undone. If your plan has been made with due regard to His glory, depend upon it He will not suffer it to fail utterly.

With regard to those interruptions from idle people of which I have spoken, we may be able to turn even them to account. We may try to give the conversation a serious and profitable turn. We may have a chance of defending the absent or the calumniated, or of recommending some good work. At worst we can let patience have her perfect work, and thus grow more like that Master whom it is at once our most important work and our dearest wish to imitate.

Ex. xvii. St. John vi. 1-21.

_FOURTH MONDAY IN LENT._

_REFRESHMENT SUNDAY—Continued._

ALL day long our Lord was engaged in teaching the people, and in healing their sick. The fact that he did so teach this great multitude of common people, and that they heard Him gladly, as we know they did (St. Mark xii. 37), is surely a sufficient answer to those who talk about the danger of giving the Scriptures to the unlearned. Meantime the disciples no doubt were reposing as they shared in their Lord's instructions, and witnessed His miracles. But as the afternoon of that long spring day drew on to its close they began to be uneasy. They looked abroad over the vast multitude thronging the plain, and wondered how they were to be fed and lodged, "for divers of them came from afar," and there were women and children among them, some of whom, no doubt, had just been cured of severe illness. We can see them consulting together with anxious faces, and many a troubled glance at the Master, and at last they venture to remind Him of the lateness of the hour, and the loneliness of the place where they were. "This is a desert place and the time is far spent; send them away, that they may buy food." (St. Mark vi. 36.) But the Lord had his own purposes to fulfill, and he answered them tranquilly, "They need not depart; give ye them to eat;" and then, as if their astonishment were not enough at such a proposition under such circumstances, He turns to Philip with the question, "Whence shall we buy bread, that these may eat?"

Philip must have been indeed amazed at the question. Buy bread for that great crowd of people! True, there was a market not so very far away, in the little city of Bethsaida Julius, but it might be doubtful whether so small a place could furnish the requisite quantity of bread, even if they had the means to pay for it. "Two hundred pennyworth is not sufficient for them, that every one of them might take a little;" and one of the number asks, "Shall we go and buy bread?"

Andrew, whose natural disposition seems to have been of that helpful sort which always moves the owner thereof to do something practical, here makes a suggestion. While others had been talking he had been investigating the resources at hand, and he now comes forward leading a little boy, and announces the result of his inquiries. "There is a lad here who has five barley loaves and two small fishes." (St. John vi. 9.) With what amazed looks his fellow-disciples must have regarded him! Only five loaves and two fishes! He himself was conscious of the seeming absurdity, for he added immediately, "What are they among so many?" What, indeed! Hardly enough for two, and here were thousands.