Our truest prayers are but the echo of God's promises. God's best
answers are the echo of our prayers. As in two mirrors set opposite to
each other, the same image is repeated over and over again, the
reflection of a reflection, so here, within the prayer, gleams an
earlier promise, within the answer is mirrored the prayer.
And in that reverberation, and giving back to us our petition
transformed into a command, we are not to see a dismissal of it as if
we had misapprehended our true want. It is not tantamount to, Do not
ask me to put on my strength, but array yourselves in your own. The
very opposite interpretation is the true one. The prayer of Zion is
heard and answered. God awakes, and clothes Himself with might. Then,
as some warrior king, himself roused from sleep and girded with
flashing steel, bids the clarion sound through the grey twilight to
summon the prostrate ranks that lie round his tent, so the sign of
God's awaking and the first act of His conquering might is this trumpet
call--'The night is far spent, the day is at hand, let us put off the
works of darkness,'--the night gear that was fit for slumber--'and put
on the armour of light,' the mail of purity that gleams and glitters
even in the dim dawn. God's awaking is our awaking. He puts on strength
by making us strong; for His arm works through us, clothing itself, as
it were, with our arm of flesh, and perfecting itself even in our
weakness.
Nor is it to be forgotten that this, like all God's commands, carries
in its heart a promise. That earliest word of God's is the type of all
His latter behests: 'Let there be light,' and the mighty syllables were
creative and self-fulfilling. So ever, with Him, to enjoin and to
bestow are one and the same, and His command is His conveyance of
power. He rouses us by His summons, He clothes us with power in the
very act of bidding us put it on. So He answers the Church's cry by
stimulating us to quickened zeal, and making us more conscious of, and
confident in, the strength which, in answer to our cry, He pours into
our limbs.
But the main point which I would insist on in what remains of this
sermon, is the practical discipline which this divine summons requires
from us.
And first, let us remember that the chief means of quickened life and
strength is deepened communion with Christ.
As we have been saying, our strength is ours by continual derivation
from Him. It has no independent existence, any more than a sunbeam
could have, severed from the sun. It is ours only in the sense that it
flows through us, as a river through the land which it enriches. It is
His whilst it is ours, it is ours when we know it to be His. Then,
clearly, the first thing to do must be to keep the channels free by
which it flows into our souls, and to maintain the connection with the
great Fountainhead unimpaired. Put a dam across the stream, and the
effect will be like the drying up of Jordan before Israel: 'the waters
that were above rose up upon an heap, and the waters that were beneath
failed and were cut off,' and the foul oozy bed was disclosed to the
light of day. It is only by constant contact with Christ that we have
any strength to put on.
That communion with Him is no mere idle or passive attitude, but the
active employment of our whole nature with His truth, and with Him whom
the truth reveals. The understanding must be brought into contact with
the principles of His word, the heart must touch and beat against His
heart, the will meekly lay its hand in His, the conscience draw at once
its anodyne and its stimulus from His sacrifice, the passions know His
finger on the reins, and follow, led in the silken leash of love. Then,
if I may so say, Elisha's miracle will be repeated in nobler form, and
from Himself, the Life thus touching all our being, life will flow into
our deadness. 'He put his mouth upon his mouth, and his eyes upon his
eyes, and his hands upon his hands, and he stretched himself upon the
child, and the flesh of the child waxed warm.' So, dear brethren, all
our practical duty is summed up in that one word, the measure of our
obedience to which is the measure of all our strength-'Abide in Me, and
I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, except it abide in
the vine, no more can ye, except ye abide in Me.'
Again, this summons calls us to the faithful use of the power which, on
condition of that communion, we have.
There is no doubt a temptation, in all times like the present, to look
for some new and extraordinary forms of blessing, and to substitute
such expectation for present work with our present strength. There is
nothing new to look for. There is no need to wait for anything more
than we possess. Remember the homely old proverb, 'You never know what
you can do till you try,' and though we are conscious of much
unfitness, and would sometimes gladly wait till our limbs are stronger,
let us brace ourselves for the work, assured that in it strength will
be given to us that equals our desire. There is a wonderful power in
honest work to develop latent energies and reveal a man to himself. I
suppose, in most cases, no one is half so much surprised at a great
man's greatest deeds as he is himself. They say that there is dormant
electric energy enough in a few raindrops to make a thunderstorm, and
there is dormant spiritual force enough in the weakest of us to flash
into beneficent light, and peal notes of awaking into many a deaf ear.
The effort to serve your Lord will reveal to you strength that you know
not. And it will increase the strength which it brings into play, as
the used muscles grow like whipcord, and the practised fingers become
deft at their task, and every faculty employed is increased, and every
gift wrapped in a napkin melts like ice folded in a cloth, according to
that solemn law, 'To him that hath shall be given, and from him that
hath not shall be taken away even that which he hath.'
Then be sure that to its last particle you are using the strength you
have, ere you complain of not having enough for your tasks. Take heed
of the vagrant expectations that wait for they know not what, and the
apparent prayers that are really substitutes for possible service. 'Why
liest thou on thy face? Speak unto the children of Israel that they go
forward.'
The Church's resources are sufficient for the Church's work, if the
resources are used. We are tempted to doubt it, by reason of our
experience of failure and our consciousness of weakness. We are more
than ever tempted to doubt it to-day, when so many wise men are telling
us that our Christ is a phantom, our God a stream of tendency, our
Gospel a decaying error, our hope for the world a dream, and our work
in the world done. We stand before our Master with doubtful hearts,
and, as we look along the ranks sitting there on the green grass, and
then at the poor provisions which make all our store, we are sometimes
tempted almost to think that He errs when He says with that strange
calmness of His, 'They need not depart, give ye them to eat.' But go
out among the crowds and give confidently what you have, and you will
find that you have enough and to spare. If ever our stores seem
inadequate, it is because they are reckoned up by sense, which takes
cognizance of the visible, instead of by faith which beholds the real.
Certainly five loaves and two small fishes are not enough, but are not
five loaves and two small fishes and a miracle-working hand behind
them, enough? It is poor calculation that leaves out Christ from the
estimate of our forces. The weakest man and Jesus to back him are more
than all antagonism, more than sufficient for all duty. Be not seduced
into doubt of your power, or of your success, by others' sneers, or by
your own faint-heartedness. The confidence of ability is ability.
'Screw your courage to the sticking place,' and you will _not_
fail--and see to it that you use the resources you have, as good
stewards of the manifold grace of God. 'Put on _thy_ strength, O Zion.'
So, dear brethren, to gather all up in a sentence, let us confidently
look for times of blessing, penitently acknowledge that our own
faithlessness has hindered the arm of the Lord, earnestly beseech Him
to come in His rejoicing strength, and, drawing ever fresh power from
constant communion with our dear Lord, use it to its last drop for Him.
Then, like the mortal leader of Israel, as he pondered doubtingly with
sunken eyes on the hard task before his untrained host, we shall look
up and be aware of the presence of the sworded angel, the immortal
Captain of the host of the Lord, standing ready to save, 'putting on
righteousness as a breastplate, an helmet of salvation on His head, and
clad with zeal as a cloak.' From His lips, which give what they
command, comes the call, 'Take unto you the whole armour of God, that
ye may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to
stand.' Hearkening to His voice, the city of the strong ones shall be
made an heap before our wondering ranks, and the land shall lie open to
our conquering march.
Wheresoever _we_ lift up the cry, 'Awake, awake, put on strength, O arm
of the Lord,' there follows, swift as the thunderclap on the lightning
flash, the rousing summons, 'Awake, awake, put on thy strength, O Zion;
put on thy beautiful garments, O Jerusalem!' Wheresoever it is obeyed
there will follow in due time the joyful chorus, as in this context,
'Sing together, ye waste places of Jerusalem; the Lord hath made bare
His holy arm in the eyes of all the nations, and all the ends of the
earth have seen the salvation of our God.'