_From Infancy to Manhood_.
Birth implies the weakness, the dependence, the ignorance of infancy. But
it implies, also, the promise of growth, of increase, of advance from
infancy to manhood. Thus it is with man generally. So it was with the Son
of Man. First, He was "wrapped in swaddling clothes, and laid in a
manger." Presently He goes forth in His mother's arms into Egypt, and back
to Nazareth. By and by it is written that "the Child grew and waxed strong
in spirit, and the grace of God was upon Him." Then He is found in the
Temple, asking that wonderful question about His Father's business, and at
last we find Him "increased in wisdom and stature, and in favour with God
and man."
We know, also, that He was found in fashion as a servant, and was obedient
unto death; that He was tempted of the Devil, and that "He learned
obedience by the things that He suffered." In fact, a very slight
acquaintance with the history of His life reveals the truth that in some
wonderful way He steadily grew in wisdom and grace; in the power to love
and to serve, and in strength to grapple with sin and death--all the while
He journeyed from the cradle to the grave and the victory beyond.
His life was a discipline, in the very highest sense of the word. Many of
the hopes He might rightly entertain about the success of His work were
dashed. Much of His love for those around Him was disappointed, and His
trust betrayed. He was despised where He should have been honoured:
rejected where He should have been received. "He came unto His own, and
His own received Him not." "Not this man," they cried, "but Barabbas." But
out of it all He came forth perfect and entire, lacking nothing--the
chiefest among ten thousand, the altogether lovely. It may be a mystery,
but it is a fact all the same, that the more the precious and wondrous and
eternal jewel was cut and cut again, the more the light and glory of the
Day-spring from on High was made manifest to men.
And here also I find a word of help and courage and cheer for you and me,
my precious comrade. I am not sure that you could receive any more
valuable Christmas gift than the full realisation of this truth--_that
your advance from the infancy to the manhood of your life in God will not
be hindered and delayed, but rather will be helped and quickened by the
storms and trials, the conflicts and sufferings, which will overtake
you_.
It was so with the man Christ Jesus; it has been so with thousands of His
chosen. As He, our dear Lord, was made perfect through suffering, so are
His saints. We are "chosen in the furnace of affliction," and often cast
into it, too! And yet He who chooses all our changes, might have spared us
every trial and conflict, and taken us to victory without a battle, and to
rest without a toil. But He knows better what will make us _men_, and
it is _men_ He wants to glorify Him--men, not babes.
The dark valleys of bitterness and loneliness are often better for us
than the land of Beulah. A certain queen, once sitting for her portrait,
commanded that it should be painted without shadows. "Without shadows!"
said the astonished artist. "I fear your Majesty is not acquainted with
the laws of light and beauty. There can be no good portrait without
shading." No more can there be a good Salvationist without trial and
sorrow and storm. There might, perhaps, remain a stunted and unfruitful
infant life--but a _man_ in Christ Jesus, a _Soldier_ of the
Cross, a _leader_ of God's people, without tribulation _there can
never be_. Patience, experience, faith, hope, love, if they do not
actually grow from tribulations, are helped by them in their growth. For
what says the Apostle? "Tribulation worketh patience, and patience
experience, and experience hope, and hope maketh not ashamed."
The finest pine-trees grow in the stormiest lands. The tempests make them
strong. Surgeons tell us that their greatest triumphs are often those in
which the patients have suffered most at their hands--for every stroke of
the knife is to heal. The child you most truly love is the one you most
anxiously correct, and "whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth." Oh, _do_
believe that by every blow of disappointment and sorrow He permits to fall
upon you, He is striving to bring you to the measure of the stature of a
man in Christ Jesus. _Do_ work with Him in the full knowledge that He
will not forsake you. He, the Man who has penetrated to the heart of
every form of sorrow, and left a blessing there; He who has watched in
silence by every kind of earthly grief, and found its antidote: the Man
who trod the wine-press alone--He will be with you.
And, since He is with you, see to it you acquit yourself well in His
presence. It is related of an old Highland chief that when advancing to
give battle he fell at the head of his clan, pierced by two balls from the
foe. His men saw him fall, and began to waver. But their wounded captain
instantly raised himself on his elbow, and, with blood streaming from his
wounds, exclaimed, "Children, I am not dead; _I am looking to see if you
do your duty_!"
My comrade, this is the path of progress, the way of advance from the
littleness and weakness of infancy to the battles and victories of
manhood. It is the way of duty, and your Captain, with the wounds in His
hands and His side, is looking on.