18. But how are we to flee the world? Not by donning caps and creeping
into a corner or going into the wilderness. You cannot so escape the
devil and sin. Satan will as easily find you in the wilderness in a
gray cap as he will in the market in a red coat. It is the heart which
must flee, and that by keeping itself "unspotted from the world," as
James 1, 27 says. In other words, you must not cling to temporal
things, but be guided by the doctrine of faith in Christ, and await
the eternal, heavenly inheritance; and in that faith and that hope are
you to execute the trust and work committed to you here, declaring the
while: "That which I do here is not the chief good, the thing of real
value, for which I live; though such is the case with the world, the
Jews, the Turks and the Papists. I hold this temporal life as a
tavern, valuing it no more than the guest values the inn where he
enjoys food and lodging, while heart and mind turn ever to his own
home."
What tolerance would there be for one foolish enough to declare: "I
will not eat nor drink here. I will behave peculiarly, smashing
windows and turning things upside down, for this is not my
abiding-place"? For the very purpose of advancing himself on his
journey, the traveler should make use of the inn, accepting whatever
is offered.
19. Likewise should Christians use the world, constantly casting their
thoughts beyond this life, notwithstanding they have here house and
home, wife and children. These are for the present life only, yet the
Christian owes them due consideration, the while he asserts: "Today we
are here, tomorrow elsewhere. Now we avail ourselves of this inn, the
next day of another. We do not expect to remain here."
Relative to this subject, Peter in his beautiful Pentecostal sermon
says concerning David, who nevertheless was a holy king, that he did
not ascend into the heavens, but, having fulfilled the will of God,
fell asleep. Peter, so far from being willing to disparage David's
office and rule, to criticise him therein for wrong-doing, rather
magnifies it in glowing terms. David was a king, and cast not aside
his crown; no, he retained his royal glory. He held his office as a
God-intrusted one, in the execution whereof he served God. Similarly
should the righteous ruler do--in fact, all men in their respective
offices and stations. Let them remember they are not placed where they
are to choose their own pleasure, but solely for the service of God.
Such is their duty so long as they are here--transients, like the
stranger at the inn with other guests, who conducts himself with
respect to the needs and the pleasure of his fellows, doing as they
do, and in case of danger and necessity uniting with them in the
effort to help and protect.
20. King David did not regard his kingdom and his God-bestowed
blessings as his real glory, but as his office, his opportunities for
service in this earthly pilgrimage. In it all he remains a guest,
expecting to leave this tarrying-place for a certain abode. Hence he
says (Ps 39, 12): "I am a stranger with thee, a sojourner, as all my
fathers were." How is that? Has a king of David's glorious rank
occasion to speak thus? Is he a guest who occupies a royal throne, who
is lord of landed estate and of more than twelve hundred thousand
people according to his own calculation? This is David's meaning: In
his kingdom he serves God as a transient here on earth, and set apart
by God for that purpose; but at the same time as a citizen of God's
kingdom in another life, another existence, which he regards more
glorious than earthly glory, and as affording something better than a
temporal crown.