Hitherto we have been occupied, in our study of this book, with God’s
mode of ordering and providing for His people in the wilderness. We have
traveled over the first ten chapters, and seen in them the illustration
of the wisdom, goodness, and forethought of Jehovah, the God of Israel.
But now we reach a point at which dark clouds gather around us. Up to
this, God and His actings have been before us; but now we are called to
contemplate man and his miserable ways. This is ever sad and humiliating.
Man is the same every where. In Eden, in the restored earth, in the
wilderness, in the land of Canaan, in the Church, in the millennium, man
is proved to be a total failure. The very moment he moves, he breaks
down. Thus, in the first two chapters of Genesis God is seen acting as
Creator; every thing is done and ordered in divine perfection, and man is
placed in the scene to enjoy the fruit of divine wisdom, goodness, and
power. But in chapter iii. all is changed. The moment man acts, it is to
disobey and bring in ruin and desolation. So after the deluge, when the
earth had passed through that deep and dreadful baptism, and when man
again takes his place therein, he exposes himself, and proves that, so
far from being able to subdue and govern the earth, he cannot even govern
himself. (Gen. ix.) Hardly had Israel been brought out of Egypt, when
they made the golden calf: no sooner had the priesthood been set up, than
the sons of Aaron offered strange fire: directly Saul was made king, he
proved willful and disobedient.
So also when we turn to the pages of the New Testament, we find the same
thing. No sooner is the Church set up and adorned with Pentecostal gifts,
than we hear the sad accents of murmuring and discontent. In short, man’s
history, from first to last, here, there, and every where, is marked with
failure. There is not so much as a single exception from Eden down to the
close of the millennial day.
It is well to consider this solemn and weighty fact, and to give it a
deep place in the heart. It is eminently calculated to correct all false
notions as to man’s real character and condition. It is well to bear in
mind that the awful sentence which struck terror into the heart of the
voluptuous king of Babylon has, in point of fact, been passed upon the
entire human race, and upon each individual son and daughter of fallen
Adam, namely, “_Thou art weighed in the balance and found wanting_.”
Has the reader fully accepted this sentence against himself? This is
a serious inquiry. We feel imperatively called to press it home. Say,
reader, art thou one of Wisdom’s children? Dost thou justify God and
condemn thyself? Hast thou taken thy place as a self-destroyed, guilty,
hell-deserving sinner? If so, Christ is for thee. He died to put away
sin and to bear your many sins. Only trust Him, and all He is and has
is thine. He is thy wisdom, thy righteousness, thy sanctification, and
thy redemption. All who simply and heartily believe in Jesus have passed
clean off the old ground of guilt and condemnation, and are seen by God
on the new ground of eternal life and divine righteousness. They are
accepted in the risen and victorious Christ. “As He is, so are we in this
world.” (1 John iv. 17.)
We would earnestly entreat the reader not to rest until this most
momentous question is clearly and thoroughly settled in the light of
God’s own Word and presence. We pray that God the Holy Ghost may deeply
exercise the heart and conscience of the unconverted and undecided
reader, and lead such to the Saviour’s feet.
We shall now proceed with our chapter.
“And when the people complained, it displeased the Lord: and the Lord
heard it: and His anger was kindled; and the fire of the Lord burnt among
them, and consumed them that were in the uttermost parts of the camp.
And the people cried unto Moses; and when Moses prayed unto the Lord, the
fire was quenched. And he called the name of the place Taberah: because
the fire of the Lord burnt among them. And the mixed multitude that was
among them fell a lusting: and the children of Israel also wept again,
and said, ‘Who shall give us flesh to eat? We remember the fish which
we did eat in Egypt freely; the cucumbers and the melons and the leeks
and the onions and the garlic. But now our soul is dried away; there is
nothing at all, beside this manna, before our eyes.’”
Here the poor human heart lets itself thoroughly out. Its tastes and
its tendencies are made manifest. The people sigh after the land of
Egypt, and cast back wistful looks after its fruits and its flesh-pots.
They do not say aught about the lash of the taskmaster and the toil of
the brick-kilns. There is total silence as to these things. Nothing is
remembered now save those resources by which Egypt had ministered to the
lusts of nature.
How often is this the case with us! When once the heart loses its
freshness in the divine life—when heavenly things begin to lose their
savor—when first love declines—when Christ ceases to be a satisfying and
altogether precious portion for the soul—when the Word of God and prayer
lose their charm, and become heavy, dull, and mechanical, then the eye
wanders back toward the world, the heart follows the eye, and the feet
follow the heart. We forget, at such moments, what the world was to
us when we were in it and of it. We forget what toil and slavery, what
misery and degradation, we found in the service of sin and Satan, and
think only of the gratification and ease, the freedom from those painful
exercises, conflicts, and anxieties which attend upon the wilderness path
of God’s people.
All this is most sad, and should lead the soul into the most profound
self-judgment. It is terrible when those who have set out to follow the
Lord begin to grow weary of the way and of God’s provision. How dreadful
must those words have sounded in the ear of Jehovah, “But now our soul is
dried away: there is nothing at all, beside this manna, before our eyes.”
Ah! Israel, what more didst thou need? Was not that heavenly food enough
for thee? Couldst thou not live upon that which the hand of thy God had
provided for thee?
Do we count ourselves free to ask such questions? Do we always find
_our_ heavenly Manna sufficient for us? What means the frequent inquiry
raised by professing Christians as to the right or wrong of such and
such worldly pursuits and pleasures? Have we not even heard from the
lips of persons making the very highest profession such words as these:
“How are we to fill up the day? We cannot be always thinking about
Christ and heavenly things: we must have some little recreation.” Is
not this somewhat akin to Israel’s language in Numbers xi? Yes, truly;
and as is the language, so is the acting. We prove, alas! that Christ
is not enough for the heart, by the palpable fact of our betaking
ourselves to other things. How often, for example, does the Bible lie
neglected for hours, while the light and worthless literature of the
world is greedily devoured. What mean the well-thumbed newspaper and
the almost dust-covered Bible? Do not these things tell a tale? Is not
this despising the manna, and sighing after—nay, devouring—the leeks and
onions?
We specially call the attention of young Christians to that which is
now before us. We are deeply impressed with a sense of their danger of
falling into the very sin of Israel as recorded in our chapter. No doubt
we are all in danger, but the young amongst us are peculiarly so. Those
of us who are advanced in life are not so likely to be drawn away by the
frivolous pursuits of the world—by its concerts, its flower-shows, its
pleasure-parties, its vain songs and light literature. But the young
_will_ have a dash of the world. They long to taste it for themselves.
They do not find Christ an all-sufficient portion for the heart. They
want recreation.
Alas! alas! what a thought! How sad to hear a Christian say, “I want some
recreation. How can I fill up the day? I cannot be always thinking of
Jesus.” We should like to ask all who speak thus, How will you fill up
eternity? Shall not Christ be sufficient to fill up its countless ages?
Shall you want recreation there? will you sigh for light literature, vain
songs, and frivolous pursuits there?
It will perhaps be said, We shall be different then. In what respect?
We have the divine nature; we have the Holy Ghost; we have Christ for
our portion; we belong to heaven; we are brought to God.—But we have an
evil nature in us.—Well, are we to cater for that? is it for that we
crave recreation? Must we try to help our wretched flesh—our corrupt
nature—to fill up the day? Nay, we are called to deny it, to mortify it,
to reckon it dead. This is Christian recreation. This is the mode in
which the saint is called to fill up his day. How is it possible for us
to grow in the divine life if we are only making provision for the flesh?
Egypt’s food cannot nourish the new nature; and the great question for
us is this: Which do we really mean to nourish and cherish? the new, or
the old? It must be obvious that the divine nature cannot possibly feed
upon newspapers, vain songs, and light literature; and hence, if we give
ourselves, in any measure, to these latter, our souls must wither and
droop.
May we have grace to think of these things—to think seriously. May we so
walk in the Spirit that Christ may ever be a satisfying portion for our
hearts. Had Israel in the wilderness walked with God, they never could
have said, “Our soul is dried away: there is nothing at all, beside
this manna, before our eyes.” That manna would have been quite enough
for them. And so with us. If we really walk with God in this wilderness
world, our souls shall be satisfied with the portion which He gives, and
that portion is, a heavenly Christ. Can He ever fail to satisfy? Does
He not satisfy the heart of God? Does He not fill all heaven with His
glory? Is He not the theme of angels’ song, and the object of their
adoring homage and wondering worship? Is He not the one grand subject
of everlasting counsels and purposes? Doth not the history of His ways
overlap eternity?
What answer have we to give to all these queries? What but a hearty,
unreserved, unhesitating YES? Well, then, is not this blessed One, in
the deep mystery of His Person, in the moral glory of His ways, in the
brightness and blessedness of His character—is not He enough for our
hearts? Do we want aught beside? Must we get the newspaper, or some light
magazine, to fill up the vacuum in our souls? Must we turn from Christ to
a flower-show or a concert?
Alas! that we should have to write thus. It is most sad; but it is most
needful; and we here put this question most pointedly to the reader:
Dost thou really find Christ insufficient to satisfy thy heart? Hast
thou cravings which He does not fully meet? If so, thou art in a very
alarming condition of soul, and it behooves thee to look at once, and to
look closely, into this solemn matter. Get down on thy face before God,
in honest self-judgment. Pour out thy heart to him. Tell Him all. Own
to Him how thou hast fallen and wandered—as surely thou must have done
when God’s Christ is not enough for thee. Have it all out in secret with
thy God, and take no rest until thou art fully and blessedly restored to
communion with Himself—to heart-fellowship with Him about the Son of His
love.
But we must return to our chapter; and in so doing, we call the reader’s
attention to an expression full of weighty admonition for us,—“And _the
mixed multitude_ that was among them fell a lusting; and the children
of Israel also wept again.” There is nothing more damaging to the
cause of Christ or to the souls of His people than association with
men of _mixed_ principles. It is very much more dangerous than having
to do with open and avowed enemies. Satan knows this well, and hence
his constant effort to lead the Lord’s people to link themselves with
those who are only half-and-half; or, on the other hand, to introduce
spurious materials—false professors—into the midst of those who are
seeking, in any measure, to pursue a path of separation from the world.
We have repeated allusions to this special character of evil in the
New Testament. We have it both prophetically, in the Gospels, and
historically, in the Acts and in the Epistles. Thus we have the tares and
the leaven in Matthew xiii; then, in the Acts, we find persons attaching
themselves to the assembly who were like the “mixed multitude” of Numbers
xi; and finally, we have apostolic reference to spurious materials
introduced by the enemy for the purpose of corrupting the testimony and
subverting the souls of God’s people. Thus the apostle Paul speaks of
“false brethren unawares brought in.” (Gal. ii. 4.) Jude also speaks of
“certain men crept in unawares.” (Ver. 4.)
From all this we learn the urgent need of vigilance on the part of God’s
people; and not only of vigilance, but also of absolute dependence
upon the Lord, who alone can preserve them from the entrance in of
false materials, and keep them free from all contact with men of mixed
principles and doubtful character. “The mixed multitude” is sure to
“fall a lusting,” and the people of God are in imminent danger of being
drawn away from their proper simplicity, and of growing weary of the
heavenly Manna—their proper food. What is needed is, plain decision for
Christ; thorough devotedness to Him and to His cause. Where a company of
believers are enabled to go on in whole-heartedness for Christ, and in
marked separation from this present world, there is not so much danger
of persons of equivocal character seeking a place among them; though
doubtless Satan will always seek to mar the testimony by the introduction
of hypocrites. Such persons do obtain an entrance, and then by their
evil ways bring reproach on the Lord’s name. Satan knew full well what
he was doing when he led the mixed multitude to attach themselves to the
congregation of Israel. It was not all at once that the effect of this
admixture was made manifest. The people had come forth with a high hand;
they had passed through the Red Sea, and raised the song of victory on
its banks. All looked bright and promising; but “the mixed multitude”
were there notwithstanding, and the effect of their presence was very
speedily made apparent.
Thus it is ever, in the history of God’s people. We may notice, in those
great spiritual movements which have taken place from age to age,
certain elements of decay which at the first were hidden from view by the
flowing tide of grace and _energy_; but when that tide began to ebb, then
those elements made their appearance. This is very serious, and calls for
much holy watchfulness. It applies to individuals just as forcibly as
to the people of God collectively. In our early moments—our young days,
when zeal and freshness characterized us, the spring-tide of grace rose
so blessedly that many things were allowed to escape unjudged which were,
in reality, seeds flung into the ground by the enemy’s hand, and which,
in due season, are sure to germinate and fructify. Hence it follows that
both assemblies of Christians and individual Christians should ever be
on the watch-tower—ever keeping jealous guard lest the enemy gain an
advantage in this matter. Where the heart is true to Christ, all is sure
to come right in the end. Our God is so gracious, He takes care of us and
preserves us from a thousand snares. May we learn to trust Him and to
praise Him.
But we have further lessons to draw from the weighty section which lies
open before us. Not only have we to contemplate failure on the part of
the congregation of Israel, but even Moses himself is seen faltering and
almost sinking beneath the weight of his responsibility. “And Moses said
unto the Lord, ‘Wherefore hast Thou afflicted Thy servant? and wherefore
have I not found favor in Thy sight, that Thou layest the burden of all
this people upon me? Have I conceived all this people? have I begotten
them, that Thou shouldest say unto me, Carry them in thy bosom, as a
nursing father beareth the sucking child, unto the land which Thou
swarest unto their fathers? Whence should I have flesh to give unto all
this people? for they weep unto me, saying, Give us flesh, that we may
eat. I am not able to bear all this people alone, because it is too heavy
for me. And if Thou deal thus with me, kill me, I pray Thee out of hand,
if I have found favor in Thy sight; and let me not see my wretchedness.’”
(Ver. 11-15.)
This is truly wonderful language. It is not that we should think for a
moment of dwelling upon the failures and infirmities of so dear and so
devoted a servant as Moses. Far be the thought. It would ill become us
to comment upon the actings or the sayings of one of whom the Holy Ghost
has declared that “he was faithful in all his house.” (Heb. iii. 2.)
Moses, like all the Old-Testament saints, has taken his place amongst the
“spirits of just men made perfect,” and every inspired allusion to him
throughout the pages of the New Testament tends only to put honor upon
him, and to set him forth as a most precious vessel.
But still we are bound to ponder the inspired history now before
us—history penned by Moses himself. True it is—blessedly true—that
the defects and failures of God’s people in Old-Testament times are
not commented upon in the New Testament, yet are they recorded with
faithful accuracy in the Old. And wherefore? is it not for our learning?
Unquestionably. “Whatsoever things were written aforetime were written
for our learning, that we through patience and comfort of the Scriptures
might have hope.” (Rom. xv. 4.)
What, then, are we to learn from the remarkable outburst of feeling
recorded in Numbers xi. 11-15? We learn this at least, that it is the
wilderness that really brings out what is in the very best of us. It is
there we prove what is in our hearts. And inasmuch as the book of Numbers
is emphatically the book of the wilderness, it is just there we might
expect to find all sorts of failure and infirmity fully unfolded. The
Spirit of God faithfully chronicles every thing. He gives us men as they
are; and even though it be a Moses that “speaks unadvisedly with his
lips,” that very unadvised speaking is recorded for our admonition and
instruction. Moses “was a man subject to like passions as we are;” and
it is very evident that in the portion of his history now before us, his
heart sinks under the tremendous weight of his responsibilities.
It will perhaps be said, “No wonder his heart should sink.” No wonder,
surely, for his burden was far too heavy for human shoulders. But the
question is, Was it too heavy for divine shoulders? Was it really the
case that Moses was called to bear the burden alone? Was not the living
God with him? and was not He sufficient? What did it matter whether
God were pleased to act by one man or by ten thousand? All the power,
all the wisdom, all the grace, was in Him. He is the fountain of all
blessedness, and, in the judgment of faith, it makes not one whit of
difference as to the channel, or whether there is one channel or a
thousand and one.
This is a fine moral principle for all the servants of Christ. It is most
needful for all such to remember that whenever the Lord places a man in a
position of responsibility, He will both fit him for it and maintain him
in it. It is, of course, another thing altogether if a man _will_ rush
unsent into any field of work, or any post of difficulty or danger. In
such a case, we may assuredly look for a thorough breakdown, sooner or
later. But when God calls a man to a certain position, He will endow him
with the needed grace to occupy it. He never sends any one a warfare at
his own charges, and therefore all we have to do is to draw upon Him for
all we need. This holds good in every case. We can never fail if we only
cling to the living God: we can never run dry if we are drawing from the
fountain. Our tiny springs will soon dry up; but our Lord Jesus Christ
declares that “he that believeth in Me, as the Scripture hath said, ‘out
of his belly shall flow rivers of living water.’”
This is a grand lesson for the wilderness. We cannot get on without it.
Had Moses fully understood it, he never would have given utterance to
such words as these: “Whence should _I_ have flesh to give unto all this
people?” He would have fixed his eye _only_ upon God. He would have known
that he was but an instrument in the hands of God, whose resources were
illimitable. Assuredly, Moses could not supply that vast assembly with
food even for a single day; but Jehovah could supply the need of every
living thing, and supply it forever.
Do we really believe this? Does it not sometimes appear as though we
doubted it? Do we not sometimes feel as though _we_ were to supply
instead of God? and then is it any marvel if we quail and falter and
sink? Well indeed might Moses say, “I am not able to bear all this people
alone, because it is too heavy for me.” There was only one heart that
could bear with such a company, namely, the heart of that blessed One
who, when they were toiling amid the brick-kilns of Egypt, had come down
to deliver them, and who, having redeemed them out of the hand of the
enemy, had taken up His abode in their midst. He was able to bear them,
and He alone. His loving heart and mighty hand were alone adequate to the
task; and if Moses had been in the full power of this great truth, he
would not and could not have said, “If Thou deal thus with me, kill me,
I pray Thee, out of hand, if I have found favor in Thy sight; and let me
not see my wretchedness.”
This surely was a dark moment in the history of this illustrious servant
of God. It reminds us somewhat of the prophet Elijah, when he flung
himself at the base of the juniper tree and entreated the Lord to take
away his life. How wonderful to see those two men together on the mount
of transfiguration! It proves, in a very marked way, that God’s thoughts
are not as ours, nor His ways as ours. He had something better in store
for Moses and Elias than aught that they contemplated. Blessed be His
name, He rebukes our fears by the riches of His grace, and when our poor
hearts would anticipate death and wretchedness, He gives life, victory,
and glory.
However, we cannot but see that, in shrinking from a position of weighty
responsibility, Moses was really giving up a place of high dignity and
holy privilege. This seems most evident from the following passage: “And
the Lord said unto Moses, ‘Gather unto Me seventy men of the elders of
Israel, whom thou knowest to be the elders of the people, and officers
over them; and bring them unto the tabernacle of the congregation, _that
they may stand there with thee_. And I will come down and talk with thee
there; and _I will take of the spirit which is upon thee and will put it
upon them_; and they shall bear the burden of the people with thee, that
thou bear it not thyself alone.’” (Ver. 16, 17.)
Was there any additional power gained by the introduction of seventy
men? Not spiritual power, certainly, inasmuch as it was only the spirit
that was upon Moses after all. True, there were seventy men instead of
one, but the multiplication of men was no increase of spiritual power.
It saved Moses trouble, but it lost him dignity. He was henceforth to be
a joint-instrument instead of the sole one. It may be said that Moses
(blessed servant as he was!) did not want dignity for himself, but rather
sought a shady, retired, humble path. No doubt; but this does not touch
the question before us. Moses, as we shall see presently, was the meekest
man upon the face of the earth; nor do we mean even to hint that any mere
man would have done better under the circumstances. But then we must seek
to bear away with us the great practical lesson which our chapter so
impressively teaches. The very best of men fail; and it seems exceedingly
plain that Moses, in the eleventh chapter of Numbers, was not in the calm
elevation of faith. He appears, for the moment, to have lost that even
balance of soul which is the sure result of finding one’s centre in the
living God. We gather this, not merely from the fact of his tottering
beneath the weight of his responsibility; but let us ponder the following
paragraph:—
“And say thou unto the people, Sanctify yourselves against to-morrow, and
ye shall eat flesh; for ye have wept in the ears of the Lord, saying,
‘Who shall give us flesh to eat? for it was well with us in Egypt:’
therefore the Lord will give you flesh, and ye shall eat. Ye shall not
eat one day, nor two days, nor five days, neither ten days, nor twenty
days; but even a whole month, until it come out at your nostrils, and it
be loathsome unto you: because that ye have despised the Lord which is
among you, and have wept before Him, saying, ‘Why came we forth out of
Egypt?’ And Moses said, ‘The people, among whom I am, are six hundred
thousand footmen; and Thou hast said, I will give them flesh, that they
may eat a whole month. Shall the flocks and the herds be slain for them
to suffice them? or shall all the fish of the sea be gathered together
for them to suffice them?’ And the Lord said unto Moses, ‘Is the Lord’s
hand waxed short? thou shalt see now whether My word will come to pass
unto thee or not.’” (Ver. 18-23.)
In all this we see the working of that spirit of unbelief which ever
tends to limit the Holy One of Israel. Could not the almighty God, the
possessor of heaven and earth, the Creator of the ends of the earth—could
not He provide flesh for six hundred thousand footmen? Alas! it is just
here we all so sadly fail. We do not enter, as we ought, into the reality
of having to do with the living God. Faith brings God into the scene,
and therefore it knows absolutely nothing of difficulties—yea, it laughs
at impossibilities. In the judgment of faith, God is the grand answer
to every question—the grand solution of every difficulty. It refers
all to Him; and hence it matters not in the least to faith whether it
be six hundred thousand or six hundred millions; it knows that God is
all-sufficient. It finds all its resources in Him. Unbelief says, “_How_
can such and such things be?” It is full of “Hows;” but, faith has one
great answer to ten thousand “hows,” and that answer is,—GOD.
“And Moses went out, and told the people the words of the Lord, and
gathered the seventy men of the elders of the people, and set them round
about the tabernacle. And the Lord came down in a cloud, and spake unto
him, _and took of the spirit that was upon him, and gave it unto the
seventy elders_; and it came to pass, that when the spirit rested upon
them, they prophesied, and did not cease.”
The true secret of all ministry is spiritual power. It is not man’s
genius, or man’s intellect, or man’s energy; but simply the power of the
Spirit of God. This was true in the days of Moses, and it is true now.
“Not by might, nor by power, but by My Spirit, saith the Lord of hosts.”
(Zech. iv. 6.) It is well for all ministers to bear this ever in mind.
It will sustain the heart and give constant freshness to their ministry.
A ministry which flows from abiding dependence upon the Holy Ghost can
never become barren. If a man is drawing upon his own resources, he will
soon run dry. It matters not what his powers may be, or how extensive his
reading, or how vast his stores of information; if the Holy Ghost be not
the spring and power of his ministry, it must, sooner or later, lose its
freshness and its effectiveness.
How important, therefore, that all who minister, whether in the gospel
or in the Church of God, should lean continually and exclusively on the
power of the Holy Ghost! He knows what souls need, and He can supply it.
But He must be trusted and used. It will not do to lean partly on self
and partly on the Spirit of God. If there be aught of self-confidence, it
will soon be made apparent. We must really get at the bottom of all that
belongs to self if we are to be the vessels of the Holy Ghost.
It is not—need we say it?—that there should not be holy diligence and
earnestness in the study of God’s Word, and in the study, too, of the
exercises, the trials, the conflicts, and the varied difficulties of
souls. Quite the reverse. We feel persuaded that the more absolutely we
lean, in self-emptiness, upon the mighty power of the Holy Ghost, the
more diligently and earnestly we shall study both _the Book_ and _the
soul_. It would be a fatal mistake for a man to use professed dependence
upon the Spirit as a plea for neglecting prayerful study and meditation.
“Meditate upon these things; give thyself _wholly_ to them; that thy
profiting may appear to all.” (1 Tim. iv. 15.)
But after all, let it ever be remembered that the Holy Ghost is the
ever-living, never-failing spring of ministry. It is He alone that can
bring forth, in divine freshness and fullness, the treasures of God’s
Word, and apply them, in heavenly power, to the soul’s present need. It
is not a question of bringing forth new truth, but simply of unfolding
the Word itself, and bringing it to bear upon the moral and spiritual
condition of the people of God. This is true ministry. A man may speak a
hundred times on the same portion of Scripture, to the same people, and
on each occasion he may minister Christ in spiritual freshness to their
souls. And on the other hand, a man may rack his brain to find out new
subjects, and new modes of handling old themes, and all the while there
may not be one atom of Christ or of spiritual power in his ministry.
All this holds good in reference to the evangelist, as well as to the
teacher or pastor. A man may be called to preach the gospel in the same
place for years, and he may, at times, feel burdened by the thought of
having to address the same audience, on the same theme, week after week,
month after month, year after year. He may feel at a loss for something
new—something fresh—some variety: he may wish to get away into some new
sphere, where the subjects which are familiar to him will be new to the
people. It will greatly help such to remember that the one grand theme
of the evangelist is Christ; the power to handle that theme is the Holy
Ghost; and the one to whom that theme is to be unfolded is the poor lost
sinner. Now, Christ is ever new; the power of the Spirit is ever fresh;
the soul’s condition and destiny ever intensely interesting. Furthermore,
it is well for the evangelist to bear in mind, on every fresh occasion of
rising to preach, that those to whom he preaches are really ignorant of
the gospel, and hence he should preach as though it were the very first
time his audience had ever heard the message, and the first time he had
ever delivered it. For, be it remembered, the preaching of the gospel, in
the divine acceptation of the phrase, is not a barren statement of mere
evangelical doctrine—a certain form of words enunciated over and over
again in wearisome routine. Far from it. To preach the gospel is really
to unfold the heart of God, the Person and work of Christ; and all this
by the present energy of the Holy Ghost, from the exhaustless treasury
of holy Scripture.
May all preachers keep these things before the mind, and then it will not
matter whether it be _one_ preacher or _seventy_, one man in the same
place for fifty years, or the same man in fifty different places in one
year. The question is not at all as to new men or new places, but simply
and entirely as to the power of the Holy Ghost unfolding Christ to the
soul. Thus in the case of Moses, as recorded in our chapter, there was
no increase of power: it was the spirit that was upon him given to the
seventy elders. God can act by one man just as well as by seventy; and if
He does not act, seventy are no more than one. It is of the very utmost
importance to keep God ever before the soul. This is the true secret of
power and freshness, whether for the evangelist, the teacher, or any one
else. When a man can say, “All my springs are in God,” he need not be
troubled as to a sphere of work, or competency to fill it; but when this
is not so, we can well understand why a man would sigh for a division of
labor and responsibility. We may remember, at the opening of the book of
Exodus, how unwilling Moses was to go into Egypt, in simple dependence
upon God, and how readily he went in company with Aaron. Thus it is ever.
We like something tangible—something that the eye can see and the hand
can handle. We find it hard to endure as seeing Him who is invisible;
and yet the very props we lean upon often prove to be broken reeds
that pierce the hand. Aaron proved to be a fruitful source of sorrow
to Moses; and those whom we, in our folly, imagine to be indispensable
coadjutors, frequently turn out the very reverse. Oh that we may all
learn to lean, with an undivided heart and unshaken confidence, upon the
living God!
But we must draw this section to a close, and ere doing so, we shall
just glance for a moment at the truly excellent spirit in which Moses
meets the new circumstances in which he had placed himself. It is one
thing to shrink from the weight of responsibility and care, and it is
quite another thing to carry one’s self with grace and genuine humility
toward those who are called to share that weight with us. The two things
are totally different, and we may often see the difference strikingly
illustrated. In the scene now before us, Moses manifests that exquisite
meekness which so specially characterized him. “But there remained two
of the [seventy] men in the camp, the name of the one was Eldad, and the
name of the other Medad: and the spirit rested upon them; and they were
of them that were written, but went not out unto the tabernacle: and they
prophesied in the camp. And there ran a young man, and told Moses, and
said, ‘Eldad and Medad do prophesy in the camp.’ And Joshua the son of
Nun, the servant of Moses, one of his young men, answered and said, ‘My
lord Moses, forbid them.’ And Moses said unto him, ‘Enviest thou for my
sake? Would God that all the Lord’s people were prophets, and that the
Lord would put His Spirit upon them!’”
This is perfectly beautiful. Moses was far removed from that wretched
spirit of envy which would let no one speak but himself. He was prepared,
by grace, to rejoice in any and every manifestation of true spiritual
power, no matter where or through whom. He knew full well that there
could be no right prophesying save by the power of the Spirit of God;
and wherever that power was exhibited, who was he that he should seek to
quench or hinder?
Would there were more of this excellent spirit! May we each cultivate it.
May we have grace to rejoice unfeignedly in the testimony and service
of all the Lord’s people, even though we may not see eye to eye with
them, and though our mode and our measure may vary. Nothing can be more
contemptible than that petty spirit of envy and jealousy which will
not permit a man to take an interest in any work but his own. We may
rest assured that where the spirit of Christ is in action in the heart,
there will be the ability to go out and embrace the wide field of our
blessed Master’s work and all His beloved workmen: there will be the
hearty rejoicing in having the work done, no matter who is the doer of
it. A man whose heart is full of Christ will be able to say—and to say
it without affectation, Provided the work is done—provided Christ is
glorified—provided souls are saved—provided the Lord’s flock is cared for
and fed, it matters nothing to me who does the work.
This is the right spirit to cultivate, and it stands out in bright
contrast with the narrowness and self-occupation which can only rejoice
in work in which “_I, myself_,” have a prominent place. May the Lord
deliver us from all this, and enable us to cherish that temper of soul
expressed by Moses when he said, “Enviest thou for my sake? Would God
that all the Lord’s people were prophets, and that the Lord would put His
Spirit upon them!”
The closing paragraph of our chapter shows us the people in the miserable
and fatal enjoyment of that for which their hearts had lusted. “He gave
them their request, but sent leanness into their soul.” They got what
they longed for, and found it death. They _would_ have flesh, and with
the flesh came the judgment of God. This is most solemn. May we heed
the warning. The poor heart is full of vain desires and hateful lusts.
The heavenly Manna fails to satisfy. There must be something else. God
allows us to have it. But what then? Leanness—barrenness—judgment! O
Lord, keep our hearts fixed on Thyself alone and at all times! Be Thou
the ever-satisfying portion of our souls, while we tread this desert, and
till we see Thy face in glory!