Suppose a great painter, a Raphael or a Turner, taking a little boy
that cleaned his brushes, and saying to him, 'Come into my studio,
and I will let you do a bit of work upon my picture.' Suppose an
aspirant, an apprentice in any walk of life, honoured by being
permitted to work along with some one who was recognised all over the
world as being at the very top of that special profession. Would it
not be a feather in the boy's cap all his life? And would he not
think it the greatest honour that ever had been done him that he was
allowed to co-operate, in however inferior a fashion, with such an
one? Jesus Christ says to us, 'Come and work here side by side with
Me,' But Christian men, plenty of them, answer, 'It is a perpetual
nuisance, this continual application for money! money! money! work!
work! work! It is never-ending, and it is a burden!' Yes, it is a
burden, just because it is an honour. Do you know that the Hebrew
word which means 'glory' literally means 'weight'? There is a great
truth in that. You cannot get true honours unless you are prepared to
carry them as burdens. And the highest honour that Jesus Christ gives
to men when He says to them, not only 'Go work to-day in My
vineyard,' but 'Come, work here side by side with Me,' is a heavy
weight which can only be lightened by a cheerful heart.
Is it not the right way to look at all the various forms of Christian
activity which are made imperative upon Christian people, by their
possession of Christianity as being tokens of Christ's love to us? Do
you remember that this same Apostle said, 'Unto me who am less than
the least of all saints is this grace given, that I should preach the
unsearchable riches of Christ?' He could speak about burdens and
heavy tasks, and being 'persecuted but not forsaken,' almost crushed
down and yet not in despair, and about the weights that came upon him
daily, 'the care of all the churches,' but far beneath all the sense
of his heavy load lay the thrill of thankful wonder that to him, of
all men in the world, knowing as he did better than anybody else
could do his own imperfection and insufficiency, this distinguishing
honour had been bestowed, that he was made the Apostle to the
Gentiles. That is the way in which the true man will always look at
what the selfish man, and the half-and-half Christian, look at as
being a weight and a weariness, or a disagreeable duty, which is to
be done as perfunctorily as possible. One question that a great many
who call themselves Christians ask is, 'With how little service can I
pass muster?' Ah, it is because we have so little of the Spirit of
Christ in us that we feel burdened by His command, 'Go ye into all
the world,' as being so heavy; and that so many of us--I leave you to
judge if you are in the class--so many of us make it criminally light
if we do not ignore it altogether. I believe that, if it were
possible to conceive of the duty and privilege of spreading Christ's
name in the world being withdrawn from the Church, all His real
servants would soon be yearning to have it back again. It is a token
of His love; it is a source of infinite blessings to ourselves; 'if
the house be not worthy, your peace shall return to you again.'