THE PALM TREE IS APPRECIATED
Search the world over; call for a consensus of opinion in civilized
countries and heathen lands, and ask them what is the most appreciated
tree in the world, and see if they do not with one voice exclaim, "The
palm tree."
In the civilized portions of the globe where the various kinds are not
brought into requisition for their extensive utility, yet the beauty of
the trees demands that they have a place in the front yards to decorate
their surroundings. If any tree at all is used to beautify the place, it
is quite sure to be a palm. And when the climate does not admit of
outside growth, the hothouse will have its various kinds. But where is
there a tree in the world that furnishes so much material for
practically all the necessities of life where the palm is indigenous?
When we think of the great variety of food, and furniture, building
material, and the hundreds of useful articles of every description that
are made from some part or other of this most valuable tree, it stands
to reason that it occupies the very foremost place of utility and
appreciation. There are some places in the world that the inhabitants
practically live from the products of the palm. The appreciation of it
could hardly be estimated. Take it away and the people perish.
In the realm of grace, there is an experience that is most appreciated.
It is appreciated most by those who are the most familiar with it. It
appeals little to those in spiritually frigid zones, who are utterly
foreign to its utility; but by those of a warmer climate who know of its
valuable properties, it is prized above rubies and diamonds. Just as the
Icelander or Greenlander cares nothing for the palm, and perhaps knows
nothing of its merits, so the people who dwell in spiritual Arctics do
not appreciate the possibilities of this full salvation grace. Ask the
possessor of the palm tree blessing what it is worth, and language at
once fails. It becomes his very life from day to day. It furnishes his
spiritual necessities of life. Cut off its supplies and he would be
stranded as quickly as the islander in the tropics, without his real
palm.
Let the definite seeker after this blessing reach the point of actual
possession, and he will have to pass the station of utmost desire and
appreciation. He will reach a want in his soul that will surpass every
other desire. He will sell all to purchase that field. It is the pearl
of great price to him.
Why do not more people obtain it? Because they are not willing to part
with that which stands in the way of its possession. When God says,
"Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness; for
they shall be filled," He gave us a divine philosophy concerning the
proper seeking. He wants a seeker to appreciate what he is after. That
which costs nothing is rarely properly appreciated. That which costs a
struggle and "all that he hath," will be held in high esteem. The
crucifixion route which results in the death of "the old man," and the
incoming of the fulness of God, puts one where he would rather part with
life itself than this pearl of great price.
We have been amazed at seekers at the altar of prayer; at the listless,
lifeless way they have sought. Many times they fail even to make an
audible prayer. This is _prima facie_ evidence of a lack of
appreciation. When the hunger reaches practical starvation, and the
desire becomes sufficient, then the seeker will lay aside all
conventionalities and press his claims regardless of people present or
opposing foes, and lay hold on the precious prize.
How often have we observed the half-hearted seeker make his indifferent
prayer and wait awhile and go away without the blessing sought, when at
a later time, when intensity took the place of listlessness, and hunger
pressed the soul, the agonizing heart pressed through spiritual
chloroform, broke loose the padlock from the lips, and soon was
rejoicing in the freedom of full salvation! One time the writer was
conducting a meeting in Knoxville, Tenn., and a sister came to the altar
a number of times. She wanted the blessing, but did not seem to be
enough in earnest, although she prayed aloud each time she came.
Finally, we said to the sister, "If you will do what I ask you to do,
you will get through in five minutes." Of course she wanted to know
what that was and she certainly would like to get through. We told her
to pray like a house afire. Immediately, she took us at our word and
started in according to our suggestion. It occurred so suddenly that we
wondered if we had not made a mistake and had a fear that it would not
be as predicted. To make sure, and unbeknown to the sister, we took out
our watch, and timed the prayer. In just three and a half minutes the
fire fell and our seeker obtained her heart's desire. While pastor in
the city of Los Angeles we had a member who was seeking the blessing of
holiness periodically. She would come to the altar and weep and make a
nice little prayer, but failed to reach the line of intensity adequate
for the blessing. Obtaining nothing she would depart and not be at the
altar again for perhaps a couple of months. When a service would reach a
specially high tide of power and victory this lady would be down with
others seeking holiness. Revival meetings were in progress and she was
at the altar one evening, and, as usual, was not receiving. We tried to
show her that she should constantly seek till she found; that she should
come to the altar every time she had an opportunity till she got
through. Finally, we asked her if she would promise to come to the altar
one hundred times in succession without a letup, if she did not get the
blessing before the hundred times were expired. After awhile she
promised thus to do. Immediately we took out our pencil and right under
her face we wrote the number 100 on the altar rail, and pointing to it,
said, "You have now promised to come to this altar one hundred times in
succession providing you do not get through before." She assented. The
following night she was faithful to her promise and got through that
night. Intensity, desire, appreciation and determination are all factors
in real seeking. Why do so many fail? There is a reason. Here is a soul
that seeks one, two, three, or more nights and then ceases. On being
asked why the seeking ceased the answer is, "Well, I tried and I did not
get anything, and what is the use of trying further?" Now, the Lord took
that all in at the start. He knew that the seeking was going to let up,
and of course could not consistently bestow the gift under such
conditions. If the Lord can look down the road and see that the seeker
is going to give up at the end of a week or a month, He certainly has
not the gift for one who does not value it more than that. But if He can
look down the road and see a pile of bleached bones, or in other words,
one who will die in the attempt before he will give up, He sees a heart
that is about prepared to receive it now.
We once heard the story of a man who was real hungry for holiness. He
was in attendance at some spiritual gathering where a number of people
were professing the experience. He cast about in his mind to find some
holy man whom he might get to pray with him. After selecting his man, he
asked him if he would go into the woods and pray with him that he might
obtain the experience of sanctification. The brother was only too glad
to go and was ready for the trip at once. The anxious seeker said, "I
have made up my mind that if I do not obtain the blessing at once I am
going to remain all night in prayer. Will you stay with me?" The brother
responded in the affirmative. "But wait," said the seeker. "If I do not
obtain the first night I am going to remain the second night. Will you
remain with me?" After a little thought he again answered in the
affirmative. He was ready to start, when the seeker declared he was
going to remain the third night, then the fourth, until it amounted to a
whole week. When he obtained the promise of his friend to stay by him,
they started for the woods. After looking about for a good, grassy spot,
and one that was nicely sheltered from the dew of the night he said,
"This is a good place; let us pray." His knees scarcely touched the
grass when he shouted, "Glory to God, I've got it!" Certainly! A good
week of solid prayer ought to clear the way for anybody to enter in, and
that honest, determined soul had virtually done that thing by faith, and
God saw that he was bound to pray through, and so He cut the work short
in righteousness and bestowed it upon him on the spot.
There is something about an intensified determination that God honors.
The fact is, that He honors faith, and when the seeking soul gets into
the state of mind where he feels that he wants the grace more than life,
and is determined to have it at any cost, it invariably opens up the way
of faith, and the victory at once is his. We once heard of a young man
at a campmeeting who was seeking the Lord. When he came to the altar he
curled up with his head in his arms and was perfectly mute. He would
neither pray nor answer a question. While others were saved around him,
he remained silent, and would leave without any help. This was repeated
time and again. He always curled up the same way, and would never say a
word to God or man. Finally, the workers, seeing they could not get
anything out of him nor help him in any way, agreed among themselves to
let him entirely alone. After this he came as usual to the altar, took
his usual position, and while others around were praying through, he
obtained nothing and went away. After a while it seemed to dawn upon his
benighted mind that everybody had forsaken him, and that he had better
pray for himself. Accordingly, he threw up his hands and screamed for
help at the top of his voice. The merciful Christ, who said, "Him that
cometh to me, I will in no wise cast out," was right present to take him
in. In an instant he had the victory and leaped to his feet and shouted,
"Glory to God! If it had not been for Jesus Christ, I never would have
been saved." Certainly not.
When all earthly hopes are gone, and one is thrown out alone on the
merits of Jesus Christ, it is then that faith takes hold and the victory
comes. It is certainly a sad sight at the altar when some daughter is
crying her way to God in a penitential grief, to have her foolish mother
kneel down beside her and begin to stroke her and say, "My dear child,
you have always been a good girl." Immediately note how the girl drops
the Lord and goes to leaning on her mother. The repentance stops at
once, self-pity takes its place, a soul is arrested in getting saved and
may possibly be lost forever. And yet this is being done continually.
Mr. Charles G. Finney tells of a woman in one of his meetings who was
much burdened on account of her sins. Mr. Finney was stopping at her
house and daily he was called upon to come and pray for the woman. He
responded from time to time and prayed for her the best he knew how, but
found out that it was doing no good. Finally, the Lord showed him that
the woman was depending upon his prayers instead of the Lord. The next
time she asked him to come and pray for her, he said, "I will pray for
you no more." Heartbroken and alarmed she threw herself on the mercy of
the Lord and was saved at once. Christ must be depended upon alone.
Other props must go. He needs no earthly help to save a sinner or
sanctify a believer.
And when the struggle is over and the pearl of full salvation is found,
it will be observed that the harder the struggle and the more it cost,
the more will it be appreciated. It is quite apparent that the cause of
the fearful decadence of religion on every hand is the failure of
obtaining the real thing on the one hand, and the failure to appreciate
on the other. How some can claim Christ today and sell Him out tomorrow,
is a marvel. The way to appreciate anything is to note what one will be
with it, and what he will be without it. What is one with this great
pearl in his possession? He is safe for both worlds. He is saved from
inward and outward sin. He has "joy unspeakable and full of glory." He
has a life of usefulness ahead and a certainty of everlasting bliss in
glory, where he will bear the palm of victory, wear the crown of glory,
walk the gold-paved streets of the New Jerusalem, enjoy the presence of
Christ and the angels and redeemed loved ones, and sing and shout and
shine and serve forevermore. This surely will pay. On the other hand, to
fail, means a life of sin and sorrow and suffering here, a loss of souls
which one might win to Christ, an awful death bed, a frightful judgment
day, and an eternity of remorse and horror and darkness and death and
damnation.
Reader, how much is Christ worth? How much do you appreciate His gift?
Let us ask some who let it slip. Judas, what is it worth? What is Christ
worth to you? The answer is, "Sixteen dollars and ninety-six cents."
That was his price for the Savior; the price of a slave in the olden
times if he were killed by a beast; the lowest price placed upon a human
being. Demas, how much is it worth? The answer is, "The love of this
present world," for that is what he obtained. Saul, what is your
salvation worth? "The gratifying of a jealous disposition," for he sold
out on that line, till it turned to anger, then hatred and then murder,
till finally he was utterly forsaken by God, and he turned into a
spiritualist, consulted the witch of Endor, went into battle, committed
suicide and passed off from the stage of action here. Solomon, what was
yours worth? "Outlandish women," is the answer, not from Solomon's lips,
but from the inspired pen of Nehemiah. "Nevertheless even him did
outlandish women cause to sin." Young lady, what was the price of your
soul? "Mother, hang my fine dresses upon the wall and let me see them.
There, mother, is the price of my soul," and she passed out into the
darkness of the outer world. Again, young lady, what is the price of
_your_ soul? "That young man. I gave up Christ for him. I had to decide
between the two, and I took him. Christ has been a stranger to me ever
since." Shall we sell out Christ for pleasure, or people, or pursuits,
or popularity? God forbid. Let us raise the price of our soul and
appreciate the gift of God and let nothing come between.