There are, however, two little notes which you should compare in this

connexion. One refers to the passage now before us, 'The way of

Holiness'. It is said, 'The unclean shall not pass over it'. The other

refers to Heaven, and says, 'There shall in no wise enter any thing

that defileth or maketh a lie'. By connecting these two you see that

you need to be not only led along the heavenly way, but to be made fit

for the heavenly courts; and David's prayer, sincerely offered, brings

that fitness--that purity of heart which sees God and delights in the

completion of His holy will.

VIII

Circumstances and Consequences

'_And fears shall be in the way._' (Ecclesiastes xii. 5.)

The man who wrote these words was specially emphasizing the importance

of settling one's relationships to the great Creator before the coming

of days when infirmities increase, and decay of natural powers sets in.

The practical outcome of that thought is, that postponement only adds

to one's difficulties when the battle really has to be fought.

Amongst those difficulties the sacred writer places that natural

foreboding, physical shrinking and hesitation which paralyse men when,

after lives spent in sin and selfish indulgence, they desire to make

their peace with God; for, says he, 'They shall be afraid of that which

is high, and _fears shall be in the way_'. The imaginary obstacles

which arise in people's minds, seeming to make holy living impossible,

are varied in character, but I see that many are influenced by fears

and feelings concerning things which I class under the headings of

'Circumstances and Consequences'.

How often, when giving earnest advice, one gets the response, 'My

circumstances are against me', 'Placed as I am, it cannot be', or 'The

consequences are too serious', 'The price of the blessing is too high'.

Even with persons who have no doubt as to the possibility of a clean

heart and sanctification of life, these thoughts operate; and we find

the fear of circumstances hindering one, and the fear of consequences

influencing another, so that they are held back from definitely seeking

the blessing. True, in many instances, the idea is a delusion, a snare

of the Devil, by which souls are kept out of God's Full Salvation; but,

there is the fact--'fears are in the way'.

Fear is like a great magnifying-glass; or one of those mirrors which

give a distorted image of things reflected in them. This effect is

often produced in persons both as regards their own circumstances and

the consequences of following the leadings of God's Spirit.

You may remember how Bunyan, in his 'Pilgrim's Progress', represents

Christian desiring to enter the House Beautiful, but suddenly he espied

two lions in the way, and was almost frightened out of his purpose

until some one told him that, if he went boldly on, and kept in the

middle of the path, he need not fear, seeing the lions were securely

chained. What an illustration of the quaking fears which hinder

definite action in regard to spiritual blessings!

1. A few words as to _circumstances_ may be helpful to some one. Let

me, however, first make one thing clear. With some people circumstances

exist which are insurmountable barriers; there are positions in the

world which could not be held by a fully sanctified person any more

than fire can be carried in a man's bosom and he not be burned;

situations involving the practice of evil or resulting in gain through

the unjust sufferings of others. Such positions must be given up, if

men wish to enjoy God's sanctifying power. I am not, however, dealing

now with such positions or the circumstances connected with them; I am

referring to circumstances or conditions of life which are lawful in

themselves and in the light of the Word of God, but which may present

difficulties and involve serious trial to those determined to live

purely and serve God faithfully.

The fear in some instances is that if they obtain the blessing the

strain of temptation would be such as to render a fall probable. 'I

could not _keep_ the blessing if I got it'; 'If I could change my

position, or surroundings, or connexions, then I would take the

necessary steps'. These are words we frequently hear. A married man or

woman says, 'Ah! if only I were single, then I could live a life of

full consecration'. With equal seriousness the single person says, 'Ah!

if only I were married, then the life of purity and Holiness would be

possible to me'. The mother, fearful about the strain which the care of

the children brings, often speaks in the same way. So it is with

business relationships and many other matters in which the

circumstances are presented as things making Holiness an impossibility.

When I was a young man in business I yearned for a position in which I

could be separate from all worldly entanglements, so that I could

obtain and enjoy the blessing. But, do you know, since I have been a

Salvation Army Officer, I have often been tempted to think that the

sanctified life is easier in the circumstances of commercial life, and

that if I was so placed the spiritual things would be more appreciated,

and I should be able to live nearer to God. You see, it is the same old

temptation, 'My circumstances, my conditions of life, my work, my

home', and the fear of these things often becomes a snare.

That is a pathetic picture which the Psalmist gives us of these poor

Jews by the waters of Babylon, who, when urged to sing the songs of

Zion, answered, 'How shall we sing the Lord's songs in a strange land?'

Is not that the feeling which bursts from many lips and many more

hearts, 'How can you expect _me_, in _my_ circumstances, to get

sanctified and live a holy life?'

But is not that just the point where the triumph of faith comes in? It

is there that we see the value of those exceeding great and precious

promises by which you are to become a partaker of the Divine nature,

and on which your faith is to build. 'As thy days, so shall thy

strength be'; 'My God shall supply all your need'; and that includes

your need in cleansing, your need in keeping, and your need in blessing

adapted to your circumstances. Remember, the Lord is the Master of

circumstances, and you must put yours into His hands, and trust Him not

only to sanctify you wholly, but to preserve you blameless unto the

end. You must trust God to make you equal to your circumstances.

2. But there is that second class of anxious persons to whom I

referred: those who are held back by _the fear of consequences_.

Oh, what crowds of enlightened souls might be walking triumphantly

along the King's highway, who are yet tramping on amidst doubts and

fears and frequent condemnation, all because they dread the pressure of

God's claims upon them, and fear the consequences of making a

whole-hearted surrender to Him.

There is another point of view about which I must speak a word in

passing. When looking at the consequences of fully yielding to God's

claims, and perhaps trembling and hesitating, do you ever think of the

results of holding back what you know God wants? Do not forget that

there are some consequences of saying 'No' to the Lord. When a child

knows his father's wish, but, in answer to a reasonable request, says,

'No', you call it disobedience. Is it not a still more serious thing to

be disobedient in the presence of more than a father's love? You must

count the cost of that, when resisting the light and influence of God's

Spirit.

Surely, you will not choose to be numbered among those who 'knew their

Lord's will, but did it not'. In the Gospel story such were 'beaten

with many stripes'; that means stripes of loss, stripes of pain,

stripes of sorrow, perhaps even stripes of death. If we are to suffer,

let it be the result of following Him, rather than the consequence of

denying our Lord.

Now, I do not want to mislead anybody, for, of course, there are

consequences of surrender and determination to live the holy life; but,

unfortunately, these fearful ones look at the wrong side of the list.

They think of the separateness from the world involved in a life of

Holiness; they think of the cold shoulder which some, even Christian

friends, would give them; they think of the toil after souls which the

sanctified must maintain; of the money that they may have to give; of

the partnership in Christ's sufferings, and other self-denying

expressions of devotion to God and the Kingdom. 'Oh, I shall have to

wear uniform!' or 'go to the Open-Air', or 'perhaps become an Army

Officer', and, as an Officer, 'may have to leave my native land'. The

enemy holds these and many similar things before the eyes of a

convicted soul, very often magnifying the facts until the word

difficulty is changed to impossibility, and, like the young ruler of

the Gospel story, they 'go away sorrowful'.

A man came across London to be present at one of our Thursday Meetings.

When spoken to by an Officer, he admitted the force of all that had

been said, but he found an insurmountable difficulty in his business as

a shopkeeper. He saw that the goods on his shelves and sold over the

counter were mixed, including what he realized to be bad and damaging

to many others. His heart was full of conviction and desire, but

anxiety about his wife and family prevented him closing down, while his

conscience prevented him selling a business which he knew had wrong and

doubtful things connected with it. 'What is wrong for me', he said,

'would be wrong for another'; and so he could not pay the price, and,

like the young ruler referred to, he has gone away sorrowful.

In the Meeting of the following week a man came to the table seeking

the blessing, and he cried out aloud, 'O Lord, give me a clean heart!

Take the malice out which I have had towards these two persons! O Lord,

I will go straight to them, and confess, and ask them to forgive me!'

Needless to add, the blessing came, and, rejoicing, he went off to his

home, fifty miles out of London, to fulfil his word. The contrast

between this and the man previously mentioned teaches its own lesson.

Now, it is quite right that seekers of Full Salvation should _look at

the cost, and count it well_; but, Oh, that they would also think of

the tremendous balance of joy and peace and blessing which more than

makes up for what has to be borne or done or given up! Instead of dim

twilight, or hazy doubts or forebodings, the sunshine of the Divine

Presence makes all things bright and gladsome. Instead of depending for

light and peace on 'suns' which 'go down' and 'moons' which 'withdraw'

themselves, the fully sanctified man finds that God has become his

'everlasting light, and the days of his mourning are ended'. As I have

said, there will be sacrifice, but there also will be satisfaction;

and, as with the mother in regard to her new-born babe, the fully saved

soul forgets the suffering and the sacrifice which has been made.

Sometimes we are tempted to look at sacrifice apart from love. I heard

Mr. Bramwell Booth say in a Meeting, 'Sacrifice is the flower of love';

and you know full well that things which are otherwise impossible

become comparatively easy to true love and faith. Men do not talk about

sacrifices when they realize that they have received more--much

more--than that which they gave up.

When I hear people dwelling on how much they have given up for God, I

begin to wonder whether those self-denying ones have realized the joy

and satisfaction which God wants to give to the fully consecrated

heart. If they have, it is strange for them to talk of rushlight

sacrifices whilst they are bathed in the sunlight of the Divine

Presence.

Sometimes distressing consequences do follow surrender and faith, but

are there not also glorious consequences in the form of joy in the

seasons of sorrow, light and guidance in the hours of perplexity,

Divine approval and communion when others misunderstand and shun us?

Surely the knowledge of this leads me to cry, 'O my Lord, let me have

the blessing with all its consequences!'

Oh, my friends, whilst counting the cost, look at both sides of God's

gift, the crown as well as the cross; the delight as well as the

denial; the heavenly sunshine as well as the earthly shadows; and the

great, glorious, everlasting reward in eternity. When you have looked

at all these things, make your choice; and, having chosen aright, 'hold

fast that which thou hast, that no man take thy crown'.

IX

Bound to the Altar

'_Bind the sacrifice with cords, even unto the horns of the altar._'

(Psalm cxviii. 27.)

Periodically in our Halls we have had what we call Altar Services. At

such times, and more especially during the Self-Denial and Harvest

Festival efforts, Soldiers, friends, and others who are interested in

God's work are invited to come forward with gifts of money to lay upon

the special table which, for that occasion, serves the purpose of an

altar. Those who have been present at these Meetings will not need to

be told that the 'gift' is irrevocable. The giver cannot honestly get

it back--it has been deliberately parted with.

That is a very definite thing _done_, and it illustrates the central

idea of the verse which I have read to you.

Some time ago I went with The General to Stockholm, where the Swedish

Officers were gathered together for their annual Congress. At the close

of the Councils I asked an Officer how he liked the Meetings, and what

the result would be. He replied, 'Commissioner, it's just like this. It

is as if The General during these days builded an altar, and to-night

we all climbed upon that altar offering ourselves a sacrifice unto God,

and the fire came down and sanctified the offering.'

_The true worship and service of God_--it need not be told--_involves

sacrifice_. If any one here feels that religion is all a question of

how much he can get out of God by saying so many prayers or offering so

many donations, he has a totally wrong conception of what it is. I know

that there are many who regard their vows to God very lightly. They

seem to think they can get through their religion without much

self-denial. Religion of that sort, however, is worth nothing either to

those who possess it or to the Lord whom they profess to serve. Without

self-sacrifice, without self-denial, religion comes to nothing, or, at

any rate, amounts to very little.

I do not desire that you should imitate the senseless practices

prevailing in some countries, where the people are allowed to build

their hopes of Salvation upon penance and self-torture. And yet we are

sometimes put to shame by the things we hear and see.

A short time ago I received a letter from a young Officer in India.

After describing some pleasing scenes, he said, 'One sees some awful

things out here. I saw a man the other day literally walking upon

nails. It made me shiver. He imagined that by this he could save his

soul. With what passion I wished that man could only understand that

other nails were pierced in other feet for him! But you see how in

earnest the people here are about their religion, and in all these

things they are seeking for Salvation.'

There are not many who are prepared to do what that poor Indian devotee

did. They are a long way off that. But unless they are prepared to

include sacrifice in their religion, they are not on the lines either

of their Lord's example or their Lord's words. The cross, the

following, the denial of self, the Calvary path, cannot be excluded

from the life of Christ's follower.

Whilst true service must always be a spiritual thing, do not imagine it

is something merely 'in the mind'. I have heard it talked about in the

same way as a doctor talked to a poor lad who had his thumb crushed in

a machine.

'Don't shout, my poor boy', he said. 'Don't you know I feel it as truly

as you do?'

'Perhaps so,' replied the boy; 'but you feels it in your mind, and I

feels it in my thumb!'

Sacrifice is often talked about by some people who feel it perhaps as

much as the doctor felt the crushed thumb, being largely a matter of

sympathy, without the actual hurting.

This matter of sacrifice indicates a certain principle, a certain state

of mind, which _expresses itself in two ways_. It is either a giving up

of things which are against God's will, or the contribution of

something which is valuable, to be surrendered or used in His service.

Shall I not say that sacrifice represents the heart saying, on the one

hand, 'I will come out, and be separate, and touch not the unclean

thing'? and, on the other hand, 'What shall I render unto the Lord for

all His benefits toward me?' Not only singing, 'Where He leads I will

follow', 'Lord, I make a full surrender', but actually spending and

being spent for Him.

I need not dwell at any great length upon the word 'altar'. I referred

to the table in our Altar Services as the place of gifts. It is also

the place of dedication, and the place of sacrifice. Thank God, it has

been so to many, as well as the mercy-seat, where God has sealed the

acceptance of the offering presented to Him.

How often have we been reminded of that altar of sacrifice in the shape

of the accursed cross, where the Saviour made atonement for our sins!

And it is in reality at that altar we bow when we sincerely sing--

_Were the whole realm of nature mine,

That were a present far too small;

Love so amazing, so divine,

Demands my soul, my life, my all!_

Not only 'demands' the sacrifice, but 'shall have my soul, my life, my

all'.

_But what does the binding of the sacrifice to the altar mean?_ The

phrase is very significant.

The horns were the corner posts, and sometimes the worshipper

presenting a living creature would tether it with a cord to the altar's

horn, so that the gift could be used either for sacrifice or service.

In both cases the figure of speech seems to imply the possibility of

the consecration being reversed by the withdrawal of the offering, or

broken by its loss, the sacrifice slipping off or away from the altar,

or being loosened by the person who had presented the offering.

The Psalmist therefore urges those to whom he is speaking to maintain

their consecration, and to see to it that their sacrifice is not taken

off the altar after being put on. These corner posts were not there for

ornament, but for use, and the cords were intended to hold the

sacrifice to the altar, so that it could not be snatched away.

Here is my Bible. If I turned away, and anybody were so minded, it

would be easy to make off with it while my back was turned. But if I

had some cord, and, by crossing it transversely from corner to corner,

tied the Book to the table, that would make it secure. It was thus that

the sacrifices were bound to the Jewish altar.

What I want to emphasize by this is, that those who come with gifts and

dedications should bind themselves in terms of unalterable covenant.

They should stand to their consecration when loss or pain or temptation

come, as come they will in one form or another. It is just here where

so many fail--they do not really maintain their sacrifice. That is to

say, having made a consecration they do not stand to it. The offering

has been made, but it has been taken back again; the vow has been

registered, but not paid; the promise has been made, but not fulfilled;

the consecration has been broken or reversed.

Take that wonderful scene in the life of Abraham. At the command of God

he erected an altar, cut the sacrifice in pieces, and laid it there.

Then Abraham waited for the coming of the fire. Before the fire came,

or anything happened, the vultures, those unclean birds, were circling

around his head, and around the altar, trying to defile the sacrifice

or snatch it away or devour it. The story says that when the birds came

down Abraham drove them away, and he stood to his covenant until the

fire came. The vultures of temptation will circle around you. They will

try to frighten you, and to remove the sacrifice wholly or partially,

or to defile it in some way. Your business then is to drive them away,

to bind and rebind the sacrifice to God's altar.

In the days of Queen Mary, a girl-martyr refused, when pressure was

brought upon her, to deny her Lord and renounce her faith. She was

condemned and taken to the seashore. There she was bound to a stake

near the low tide line, and, as the incoming waters gathered round her

feet, one of her persecutors rode out and offered to spare her life if

she would renounce her faith and turn her back upon her Lord.

The waters rose to her waist, and he rode out again, and, when half

unconscious, she was dragged out, and urged to recant. Refusing to do

this, the girl was again bound to the stake.

When the waters reached her shoulders the offer was repeated. To one

and all she replied something like this: 'No, I will not draw back! I

will not deny my Lord!' And as the rising tide came in she bowed her

head, and poured her soul out unto death rather than deny her Master.

She bound her sacrifice to the altar, and died in the faith.

Some of those who hear my words are disappointed and sad at heart, for

they have gone back on Jesus Christ; not perhaps to save their lives,

but for a mere trifle. Why these neglected vows? Why these defiled

sacrifices? Why these broken consecrations? If they were ever really

put on the altar they were not, I am afraid, bound there. Impulse,

sentiment, desire, intention may have induced the offering, but it was

not bound with 'cords of submission, cords of determination'.

Companionships, some secret indulgence, some selfish pleasure, some act

of reversal, carried off the sacrifice.

Alas! how many have never seriously and sincerely approached the Divine

altar to make the full surrender of themselves to God. The love of sin,

the selfish gratifications which are so precious to them, have kept

them back, though often convicted about their duty.

But the act of dedication is very simple, and can be made or renewed

now. While we bow before God around the altar of consecration, bring

yourselves and the sacrifice again and put it on that altar in an

unchangeable covenant, and with a simple faith that will bring from God

that holy fire which makes it possible to maintain it there for ever.

_A willing sacrifice at last

Myself to Thee I give;

The weary, painful strife is past--

I die that I may live._

_I yield Thee all my hallowed powers,

Thine only will I be,

Contented if I may but know

Thou giv'st Thyself to me._

X

'Why Should I?'

'_Thou saidst, What advantage will it be? What profit shall I have, if

I be cleansed from my sin? I will answer thee, and thy companions with

thee._' (Job xxxv. 3, 4.)

In reading these words I have no wish to enter into the controversy

between Job and his friends as to the relationship of physical

suffering to sin, but to emphasize a certain mental attitude which they

indicate, and which often expresses itself in relation to other things.

The human mind is so constituted that men will not commit themselves to

a course suggested by another unless it is proved to be worth their

while. When we want to move people to do that which does not at the

moment fit in with their desires, we have to urge motives upon their

consideration. Very few actions are performed without there being some

personal motive. It seems born in us to ask, 'Is it worth while? Why

should I do, or go and accept what I do not want?' and so we hang back

until some motive carries our judgment or feelings.

We find the same attitude in men's minds towards Salvation and those

spiritual blessings and conditions of life in which the Lord wants men

to live. The immediate gratification of the flesh, or love of selfish

indulgence, lies in the opposite direction to the Altar of

Consecration; so that when the call to surrender and Holiness comes,

naturally, and at once, the cry springs up, 'Why should I? Where is the

advantage? What profit shall I have?' It seems, therefore, absolutely

necessary to find some personal motives by which to urge people to be

saved, or seek a clean heart, and pursue those lines of sacred duty to

which redeemed men should be consecrated.

Standards of Life and Service · 第 3 / 8 段