It sounds improbable that though a whole army was trying to kill Ahab,
it should be an arrow which a man shot at a venture, or as the Hebrew
has it, quaintly, "in his simplicity"--when twanging his bow carelessly,
or trying a new string perhaps--that should find the king's heart.
And yet it is the thing that does happen occasionally in real life. We
sometimes do get the target when we are aiming for something else. The
name which we have been worrying to recall strolls casually into our
memory when we have given up trying and are not thinking of it at all.
There are certain stars, astronomers tell us, which they see best when
they look askance. And I have come to think that there are certain
precious goods of His which God allows us to possess on the same
conditions. You see them by looking past them. You get them by aiming
at something else. "Look at your goal and go for it straight," says
worldly wisdom, wisely and truly enough in many instances. All the same
there are good things in life to which that is emphatically NOT the
road. The real way to secure these is to aim for something else.
This is true, for example, of Happiness. Everyone of us wants to be
happy. And there is such a bountiful provision of the means of
happiness all about us that it is difficult to resist the conclusion
that God means us all to be happy. Yet when those for whom happiness is
meant and prepared seek it directly and for itself, it is as certain as
anything can be that they won't find it. You ask, perhaps you pray for
this boon, and God shows you only some bare duty that is clearly yours.
Out to it you go, like a brave man, not thinking there can be any
blessings on that road, when, lo! as you journey, happiness comes to
you, quietly, filling your heart with peace.
One does not find that the New Testament, as a matter of fact, has much
to say about being happy at all. There is so little reference to it
that it looks as if God had forgotten our need. I find that the Book
which I had thought might tell me how to find happiness tells me instead
of "bearing one another's burdens," doing it "unto one of the least of
these"; tells me about my brother's need of me when he is sick or naked
or hungry; tells me even about such a thing as a cup of cold water to a
thirsty disciple. Ah! but when, in however poor a fashion, I forget my
own quest and gird myself in Christ's name and try to DO some of these
things, I find that God has not forgotten after all, that, all the time
He has been showing me THE way to happiness, and I did not recognise it
because it is not a straight road. It's not a question of seeking, but
of forgetting to seek. Happiness comes to you oftenest when you are
intent on bringing it to your brother.
The same principle holds true also with regard to Influence. It is
natural that a man should desire that his shadow when it falls on others
should heal and not hurt. But the healing, helpful shadow is not got by
wishing for it. As soon as you begin to think about it and aim for it,
you will go astray. Here is a little poem which tells how the strange
magnetic quality of influence for good comes to a man:--
"He kept his lamp still lighted,
Though round about him came
Men who, by commerce blighted,
Laughed at his little flame.
He kept his sacred altar
Lit with the torch divine,
Nor let his purpose falter,
Like yours, O World, and mine.
And they whose cold derision
Had mocked him, came one day
To beg of him the vision
To help them on their way.
And, barefoot or in sandal,
When forth they fared to die,
They took from his poor candle
One spark to guide them by."
That is the secret--a roundabout way, as you see. If Influence is to be
ours, that is how it will come, not by our trying to be influential, but
by our striving to be upright, loyal, and true.
In the third place, this is true of Life in Christ's sense of the term.
Life was one of His favourite words. It was Life, in the highest sense,
that He claimed to bring to men. And the greatest calamity in His eyes
that could fall on any man is that that inward soul-life should die.
Yet when those in whom He has awakened it, aim directly for its growth
and culture, they make mistakes. To the question--Shall I regard the
development and deepening of that soul-life of mine as the one end and
object of my living? the answer of Jesus, as I understand it, is No.
Life, said He, at its highest and fullest and most perfect, is reached
by giving it away. He that loseth his life shall save it.
What a long way from this ideal are those good people who are for ever
laying their fingers on their spiritual pulse and plucking their
soul-life up by the roots to see how it is growing! There is a nobler
use of life than to save it in that fearful fashion. There is a truer
way to grow in grace than by hoarding up virtue so, namely, by letting
it go generously out from us. When St Nicholas got to Heaven with his
white robes of sainthood stained with mud through stopping on his way to
help a carter pull his waggon out of a rut--a task which his fellow St
Cassianus, for the sake of his robes, avoided and declined--it was the
muddy saint whom the Master welcomed with the sweetest smile and the
most gracious words. Whoso loseth his life, the same shall save it.
Happiness, Influence, Life, these three, and the road to each of them is
indirect. May God bless it to us that we have stood for a little to
mark the flight of an arrow shot "in simplicity!"