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.
But as the disciples regarded our Lord's face they must have been in
some measure reassured. There was no embarrassment or uncertainty to be
read there. He Himself knew what He would do, as His next words showed
them: "Make the men sit down." Here, at least, was a plain, practical
command, and cheerfully they hastened to obey.
In all our perplexities and puzzles we can usually find something to do
at once, and that something leads to something else, till by degrees
the way is made plain before us. The old Saxon motto, "Do the next
thing," is the guide out of many a difficulty. "How are we ever to fill
this box?" said one of the officers of a certain missionary auxiliary;
"we have only money enough to buy half a dozen towels." "Very well, let
us buy the towels," was the answer; "by the time they are hemmed we
shall have more." And so it proved; and a better box never gladdened a
hard-working woman than was sent to that faithful teacher.
A poor woman in England once gave a few shillings, the result of long
saving, to purchase some Bibles for the poor; and out of that gift
grew one of the great Bible societies which supply the Scriptures to
hundreds of thousands. A few serious words, kindly spoken to a wild
young man in a diligence, gave to the Moravian Church one of the most
successful missionaries that ever lived. Let us use what we have. It
may be not so much as the little lad brought in his basket, but the
Master will accept it and use it; whether it be to the feeding of one
or ten thousand does not signify, so it is to His service. Let us take
the first step in obedience to His command, and the next step will
be made plain. It may be but a short one, but it will be so much in
advance. Like the pilgrim in the valley of the shadow of death, when we
lift up our foot to go forward, we may not know where, or upon what we
may set it next; but be sure the solid ground will be there to meet it,
so long as we are in the way of the Celestial City.
1 Kings xvii. Acts xvii. 16.
_FOURTH TUESDAY IN LENT._
_REFRESHMENT SUNDAY—Continued._
"NOW there was much grass in the place." So the men sat down in orderly
ranks or companies—an arrangement made by our Lord's own command, that
they might be the more easily waited upon. The word used by St. Mark
signifies parterres, or the orderly arrangement of the plants in a
vineyard or garden, and the assembly, dressed in the gay colors which
Orientals affect, must have looked somewhat like a great flower-garden.
Doubtless, all faces were eagerly turned toward our Lord, as the people
wondered what was coming next. The disciples gathered round their
Master, amazed, no doubt, but ready to obey His order, whatever it
might be and near Him, perhaps, stood the little lad who had brought
the provision, his eyes fixed on that face which ever had an attraction
for children. Jesus took in His hands the cakes of barley bread, "and
when He had given thanks, He brake them, and began to distribute them
to the disciples, and they to the people, and likewise of the fishes,
as much as they would." (St. John vi. 11.) The original words seem to
show that the provisions were multiplied in our Lord's hands. Here was
a sudden end of all their perplexities. Here was enough and to spare,
of palatable and wholesome food.
It must have been with glad hearts, that the twelve, aided, no doubt,
by the disciples of John, passed around among the people bearing the
unexpected refreshment. Doubtless the multitude shared in their joy for
many of them were far from their homes; and the prospect of returning
hungry, or possibly of spending the night supperless in the open air,
could not have been very agreeable. It is no great wonder, perhaps,
that as they partook of His bounty, the old idea of making the Lord
a temporal ruler should have recurred to their minds. Surely one who
could so wonderfully provide for his followers would have no difficulty
in defying the power even of the Romans. It was long before the Lord's
immediate and trusted disciples realized the fact that His kingdom was
not of this world.
But the people had eaten all they needed. What next? The next command
must also have somewhat surprised both the disciples and the people.
"Gather up the fragments, that nothing be lost." Why this exact economy
on the part of one who could, as they had just seen, produce food at
will? However, the disciples obeyed without a question, and soon they
had filled twelve of the satchels, which all strict Jews carried when
on a journey (to protect their food from ceremonial uncleanness), with
the fragments which remained of the loaves and fishes. And now their
work was for the present finished. Jesus would be alone for a time; and
he dismissed His immediate followers to go to the other side of the
lake, while He Himself sent the multitude away. The disciples seemed to
have been somewhat unwilling to leave their Lord alone, but His will
was law, and they betook themselves to the boat which had brought them
hither.
When the multitude had at last departed, doubtless with many a
lingering look behind, He who had so cheerfully given up His own
plan of rest and retirement for the sake of teaching and feeding
them, departed into a mountain to pray. At last He was alone; and
how grateful to His weary senses must have been the solemn quiet and
dewy freshness of that mountain solitude! How dear to His heart the
opportunity of holding undisturbed communion with His Father! Dear
tired mother or teacher, or busy housekeeper, are your senses also
weary and your nerves unstrung with perpetual din? Do you, too, long
for solitude and silence? Remember that the Lord has been before you
in this trial also. The most of His active life was passed in a crowd,
almost always careless and unsympathizing, often captious and hostile;
and His hours of devotion must be stolen from needed sleep.
"Each pang from irritation, turmoil, din,—"
is known to Him, and He will give needed help and relief.
Our Lord gave thanks before He distributed the bread to the disciples.
This was an universal custom among the Jews, and the Lord has approved
it by His example. "He who enjoys anything without a blessing, robs
God," says the Talmud. Yet how many Christian families are there in
which grace before meat is never heard. It looks a little, indeed, as
if family religion, of any sort, were to become a thing of the past.
The father hastens to his business, and the children to their school,
without one word of recognition for the mercies of the night; without
a single petition for help and guidance through the day. The father
is, or should be, the priest of his own household, to offer up their
spiritual sacrifices; but how many never think of doing so! He should
be their instructor in divine things; but how many never open the
Bible with their children! The boys see their father busy till the
last stroke of the church bell with his Sunday papers; they see the
same papers or a novel taken up on his return. Is it any wonder that
they come to think religion a matter of secondary importance? Is it
any wonder that they think it fit only for women, since they see its
outward observance left wholly to them? Oh, how many thorns are these
negligent, indifferent Christian fathers and mothers cultivating for
their own pillows! It is true that a boy or girl may turn out badly,
however much pains has been taken with the religious training, because
in this world all must make the choice between good and evil for
themselves; but at least the careful, conscientious parent has not the
added bitter pang of thinking "my neglect, my selfish indulgence, has
made the child what he is."
"Gather up the fragments," said our Lord. He could create at will
enough to feed five thousand, yet He would not have the remainder lost.
With what displeasure must He not look on the lavish wastefulness of
His children. Some man takes a good religious paper, or more than one.
Perhaps he finds time to glance at them, perhaps not. The expenditure
of a cent a week, or the sending of a child or servant, would carry
that paper to some poor man or woman—perhaps to some one shut up with
illness—who would be only too glad to read it. But no one thinks
of that, and what might give aid and comfort to God's afflicted or
hard-worked child goes to the ragman. The partly worn hose or flannel
garment share the same fate, when a little of the time given to some
useless bit of fancy work would make them fit to bestow on some poor
body, or to help out a hospital box. I knew a lady with a family of
sons. When their socks or underwear were thrown aside, she had them
carefully mended and put away in a special place; and many a poor
hard-working woman was helped out of Mrs. Z.'s "give-away drawer." We
have no right to waste, because all that we have, whether of time or
goods or talent, is not ours, but our Lord's. We are but His stewards,
and it is required of stewards that a man be found faithful.
Prov. xxxi. St. Luke xiv.
_FIFTH WEDNESDAY IN LENT._
_COMFORT._
A CERTAIN writer has said that there is no more beautiful word in
the language than the word "comfort." Certainly there is none which
carries with it more meanings, or one which it is harder to define.
Rest from weariness, freedom from pain, security from danger, all
these are comprised in the word "comfort." But these are, after all,
but negative, and there is a positive side. The word often means
consolation. "As one whom his mother comforteth, so will I comfort
you," is God's promise to His people. (Isa. lxvi. 13.) Think of a
little child waking in the dark, from some dream of terror. The
darkness is all around him, with its possibilities of danger. Who knows
what it may hide in those dark corners, behind those dimly seen, waving
curtains? He can feel no one near him. To his excited fancy it seems as
if he were alone in the universe, and he cries out in fear and anguish.
But in a moment a tender arm is laid over him, a warm kiss reassures
him, a well-known voice speaks his name, and he sinks to sleep again,
sure that no evil thing can harm him, because his mother is there to be
his defense.
So it often is with the Christian. He walks in the midst of trouble.
Darkness is around and within. His purposes are broken off; his
plans even for his Master's service are frustrated, and, what seems
to make his trouble worst of all, he is hampered by indifference,
if not by open hostility on the part of fellow-Christians and
fellow-church-members. He says to himself, with David, "It is not
an enemy that hath done me this dishonor; but it was even thou, my
companion, my guide, and mine own familiar friend." He feels almost as
if His Lord Himself had forgotten him, and he is ready to sit down in
despair.
But by and by a ray of light falls athwart the darkness. It is the hour
for his regular devotion, and he will not neglect it. His heart feels
cold and dead, if not absolutely rebellious, but at least he can obey,
and he takes up his Bible or his prayer-book, opens perhaps to the
thirty-seventh Psalm, or some other like it.
He reads precious promises of help and protection, and deliverance
from trouble, such as these. "Commit thy way unto the Lord, and put
thy trust in Him, and He shall bring it to pass. He shall make thy
righteousness as clear as the light and thy just dealing as the
noon-day." (Ps. xxxvii. 5.) He is made to see that he is but tasting
the edge, as it were, of that cup which his Master drained to the dregs
for him. He feels that God has not forsaken him, and he is by and by
able to say, "In the multitude of the sorrows that I had in my heart,
Thy comforts have refreshed my soul." The assurance comes to him that
the Lord will use all to His own glory and the good of His servant, and
he is content to tarry the Lord's leisure.
Or take another case. The Christian is made aware that he has fallen
into sin. He has spoken unadvisedly with his lips perhaps, and fears
that his words may do great harm. He has given way to unjust or
excessive anger, or he has been led into some worldly compliance which
he now sees to have been wrong. Or, worse still, he has suddenly
awakened to the fact that he has for a long time been declining in
godliness, that he has been living for the world and not for his
Master. He has gone out of the way into By-path meadow, and the road,
which at first seemed to run close to the highway, has turned aside
till he has come at least within sight of the dwelling of Giant
Despair. Satan is not slow to take advantage of his fall. He tells the
sinner that it is plain to be seen that he never was a true disciple.
Could one who had really tasted of the grace of God so dishonor his
profession? Or if he were once a child of God, is it not as plain as
day that he is so no longer? Has he not come too far out of the way
ever to find his path back? Will he be received even if he should
return? Is this the return he has made to God for all his benefits, and
can such black ingratitude ever be forgiven? Such suggestions as these
drive the sinner almost to desperation. Almost, but not quite. His
very agony and distress teach him how precious was that Lord from whom
he has turned away, and he will not give him up without a struggle at
least.
But he is not left to struggle alone. God has not forgotten His child,
though that child may for a time have forgotten Him. He may leave him,
or seem to leave him, to suffer for a time the penalty of his sins;
for as many as the Lord loves, He rebukes and chastises. But let the
sinner once accept the punishment of his iniquity (Lev. xxvi. 41);
let him acknowledge that he is justly punished for his offenses, as
says the collect for the day, and light begins to dawn on the night of
despair. He, too, opens his Bible, and he reads such words as these,
"Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow." (Isa.
i. 18) "If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us
our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness." (1 John i. 9.)
"Him that cometh unto Me, I will in no wise cast out." (St. John vi.
37.) And so he casts himself at the feet of his crucified Lord, humbly
bewailing his sinfulness, and asking pardon for the sake of that very
love that he has outraged and grieved. Humbly he believes his prayer is
accepted, trusting in God's unchanging promise, though he has for the
present no evidence in his own feelings that his sins are pardoned. By
and by the light grows clearer. He hears within a sweet voice, sweeter
than any music of earth, whisper such precious words as these: "I,
even I, am He that blotteth out thy transgressions for mine own sake,
and will not remember thy sins." (Isa. xliii. 25.) Then the Sun of
righteousness riseth on His soul with healing in His wings, and it is
day.
Ps. xxxii. St. John xvii.
_FIFTH THURSDAY IN LENT._
_THE SOURCES OF COMFORT._
THE first source of comfort to the disciple in distress is his general
confidence in the goodness of his Lord. "Comfort them with a sense of
Thy goodness!" asks the collect for the sick and the afflicted in the
prayer-book; and there is not in that whole wonderful volume a sentence
more full of meaning. "My Father is all-wise, therefore He cannot make
a mistake; He is perfectly holy, therefore He cannot do an unjust
thing; He is perfect love, therefore He will never do a cruel thing;
and He sees and cares for me as much as if I were the only child for
whom He had to care." Thoughts like these come to the pilgrim, bowed
down by the burden and heat of the day; and they give him courage to
take up his load and struggle on toward that rest which remains for the
people of God—that mansion prepared for him, and whose roofs and towers
his faith sees above the clouds, gleaming in Heaven's own sunshine. To
souls like this it does indeed come to pass that, going through the
valley of misery, they use it for a well, and the pools are filled
with water. "Their light affliction, which is for a moment, worketh
for them a far more exceeding weight of glory," because "they look not
at the things which are seen, but at those things which are unseen and
eternal." (2 Cor. iv. 17.)
The second source of comfort to the Christian which we shall consider
is the written word of God. "In the Lord's word will I comfort me."
(Ps. lvi. 10.) Here is the sure holding-ground for the anchor of faith.
Our feelings are the sport of every wind that blows, but the written
word remains, and remains ever the same. The stricken woman whose prop
and stay has been taken away, perhaps in a moment, and who knows not
where to turn for help, may read in that Word that God is the God of
the fatherless, and defendeth the cause of the widow. (Ps. lxviii. 5.)
The invalid, wearied out with the life-long pain, which has become
such an old story that people no longer think of asking about it, who
feels faith ready to fail, and courage to give way under the load, to
such an one comes the message, "My grace is sufficient for thee, for my
strength is made perfect in weakness." (2 Cor. xii. 9.) The aged saint
bowed beneath the burden of years, perhaps with no child or near friend
to support his weakness and bear with his infirmities, prays, "Forsake
me not when I am gray-headed" (Ps. lxxi. 16), and the Word which
supplies the prayer answers it with a corresponding promise, "Even
to your old age I am He; and even to hoary hairs will I carry you."
(Is. xlvi. 4.) The repentant, all but despairing sinner, is told by
that very righteous and holy God whom he hath so grievously offended,
"I, even I, am He that blotteth out thy transgressions for mine own
sake, and will not remember thy sins." (Is. xliv. 22.) And again, "The
blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth us from all sin." (1 John i. 7.) The
backslider reads, "I will heal their backslidings; I will love them
freely." (Hosea xiv. 4.) And to the child of God, striving in meekness
and faithfulness to follow in the steps of his Lord and Master, and to
do his commonplace, every task for Him, the words of cheer and strength
are not to be counted.