GROWTH IN CHRISTLINESS OF LIFE.
MAKING A BOTCH.
One may have a clean, pure heart and yet be far from possessing a
matured Christian character. A man may love God with all his heart, and
yet not be wise in his selection of the things that will always please
God. Frequently the preacher may come down from the pulpit having made
a horrible botch of his attempt to serve God in the ministry. He may
feel the fact keenly, and be even more conscious of it than any of his
hearers. And yet that preacher may have a heart as white as Gabriel's
wing and a soul full of love to God and man. But as time goes on, and
he lingers repeatedly at the feet of Christ in prayer, God will show
him how he can serve Him more effectively and without the objectionable
features.
UNJUST CRITICISM.
The fact that purity is not maturity has given rise to misapprehension
on the part of many people. Indeed, many of God's dear children have
been misjudged and condemned because they did not have in addition to
pure hearts sound and solid judgment. As soon as a man professes the
blessing of perfect love, the sharp-eyed critics of the neighborhood
look out for "perfect sense," and "perfect manners," and "perfect
life," and when the subject of observation fails to meet the
expectation of the aforesaid critics, there is a great hue and cry that
"Sister A. or Brother B. has not got what is professed," when God knows
they HAVE got JUST what they profess--namely, perfect love, full
salvation. The Lord has never guaranteed a perfect head to any man that
breathes. We will make mistakes as long as we hang around this old
world, and it is injustice to exalted spirits who have this precious
grace, and an insult to the God who gave the grace, to condemn
sanctification because those who profess it are not angels, but simply
men and women cleansed and filled with the Spirit.
REPEATING MISTAKES.
But while God makes allowance for our weakness and our frailty, we
ought not to expect Him to indulge us in avoidable and needless errors.
We made a mistake. Very well. We knew no better than to make it. But
now that we do know better, we have no business repeating it. And right
along here comes a great expanse of territory which holiness people
need to cover. Here there is infinite room for advancement and progress.
"THE IMITATION OF CHRIST"
Thomas A'Kempis wrote a wonderful book on "The Imitation of Christ."
The failure in so many quarters in becoming Christlike is due to the
false method pursued. First, get a Christlike heart, and then let that
heart govern your life and actions. "Work OUT your own salvation," said
Paul, "for it is God that worketh IN you." Precisely! God puts a holy
heart into a man's breast, and his business from thence on is to bring
his life into line with the heart. The old life-habits may cling to him
for a time, but it is the business of the sanctified soul to free
itself from all that Jesus would not do were He on earth. Imitation of
Christ comes after sanctification, and not before. You simply can not
imitate Jesus if you have a reptile heart in you. If you have a filthy
mind you will talk "smut" and think "smut" in spite of yourself. You
may hide your bad self from the world, but your wife, or your husband,
or your family, those who are acquainted with you intimately, know that
you are base and coarse.
DANTE.
A glutton may stand and look at the thin, austere, ascetic face of
Dante and say within himself, "I will be a Dante," but all the world
knows that in a few hours he will be gourmandizing as swinishly as
before. And men look at the beautiful Jesus held up in Unitarian
pulpits and resolve to act like Him, and go right on being selfish, and
proud, and deceitful, and devilish. There must be a moral miracle,
there must be a spiritual upsetting and overturning, before a carnal
heart can begin to imitate the pure and spotless Son of God.
KINDNESS.
After we are sanctified, we ought to imitate Christ in kindness. How
kind He was! Where did He abuse anyone? He preached the truth, but He
never maligned any of His auditors.
THE "LITTLE THINGS"
It is the "little things" that make up the mosaic of life. Our friends
know us, not by the speeches we deliver, nor the sermons we preach, nor
the books we write, but by the tones of our voices, and the letters we
pen, and the words we use in daily life. Introduce kindness into a
discordant family and how Eden-like the home becomes! Why are we not as
considerate and polite to those who are all the world to us as we are
to strangers and neighbors? Christlike kindness would fill our hearts
with thoughtfulness for those about us. It would bid us carry a torch
to many a darkened life, and incite us to share the burden pressing
upon many an aching shoulder.
TRUE HUMILITY.
Christ had great charity for the faults of those with whom He was
associated. How He bore with the dull and almost stupid disciples! How
He bears with us in our worse and more inexcusable blockheadedness!
And, if He is so charitable and patient with our faults, how ought we
to be with others? There comes a time in our lives when we are simply
astonished that people pay any attention to us at all. We are so
conscious of our short-comings, and so keenly aware of our mistakes,
that it seems to us that surely no one is quite so blundering and
fallible as we are. How easy it is then to bear with one another!
LOOKING-GLASS HUMILITY.
We ought to work humility out into our lives. Jesus lived an humble
life--a life of the truest and deepest humility. Not a humility
conscious of itself and ever gazing at itself through the fancied eyes
of others, but a humility that was real and unaffected.
A CHRISTLIKE MAN.
The writer has in mind a man of deep and earnest piety, a scholar, a
successful preacher and author. With all his learning and scholarship
he is as humble as a child, and one can not look at him without
feeling, "There is a Christ-man." Often as the pen flies quickly across
the page, or as the lips are moving in the delivery of a sermon, or as
an altar service is in progress, the slight, thin figure of that man
flashes to the brain, and the eye grows dim and the heart-prayer rises,
"Lord, make me an humble man." There are so many great men, eloquent
men, learned men, dignified men, but so few humble men. God, increase
their number in the land!
ACTIVITY.
Another thing in Jesus' life which sanctified people ought to learn to
imitate was His activity. His days, and even His nights, frequently,
were filled with service. After long days of teaching and preaching, He
would seek out some quiet nook and spend the still and lonely hours of
night in prayer to the Father.
THE INDIVIDUAL VISION.
Men who come into close touch and communion with Christ are impelled
irresistibly to earnest and ceaseless service. They see needs which no
one else seems to see. They hear the plaintive voices of dying men, and
the tearful cries of despondent women, and the helpless moans of
unloved children. They have visions which others never understand, and
dream of things with which their dearest friends can not sympathize.
They have given their all that they may know Christ, and He has
rewarded them by disclosing His heart to them. They know why His face
is tearful, and His voice is filled with sadness. They know why He is
"a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief." They are baptized into a
baptism of love for souls, and compassion for the sorrowing, similar to
that in which He is plunged. It is for this reason that men hear the
voice of God calling them away from the hearth-stone out into the
desolate earth.
ST. TELEMACHUS.
St. Telemachus heard the voice of God, and straightway "followed the
sphere of westward wheeling stars," and journeyed on to Rome muttering,
"The call of God! The call of God!" Not on a foolish errand did he go,
for, after his visit to the Eternal City, gladiatorial combats ceased.
"HE THAT WARRETH"
Brethren, be true to Christ. Let not even those who love you best draw
you from a steadfast purpose to spend your life and all for the
Galilean. Flee ease and luxury and comfort, and impose hard tasks upon
yourselves. Your friends may seek to hinder you with cries of, "Rest!
Tarry!" but like Christian in Bunyan's dream stop your ears and go
quickly on your journey.
THE HOME COMING.
Some day your little service will be complete. Your sun will set. The
west will be filled with beauty, and the birds will twitter softly in
the trees as you trudge the last mile into the City; and as the shades
deepen, and the air grows chill, the Master Himself will meet you, take
you to His heart, wipe the tear from your cheek, the dust of the road
from your brow, and the sorrow from your heart, and lead you to the
court, where with those whom you love, and those who love you, Eternity
will be spent in the light of His pure and shining face.
EXPERIENCE
THE VALUE OF TESTIMONY.
It has pleased God to place in our hands two weapons by which we are to
overcome Satan--"the blood of the Lamb, and the word of our testimony."
It was the narrated experiences of the people of God, and the modest
declarations of the saving power of Christ, which convicted me of my
need and led me to seek the grace of God. Very briefly, therefore, I
will sketch God's dealings with my own soul.
EARLY PRAYER.
I was born September 30th, 1877, at Westfield, Indiana. My parents were
both ministers in the Society of Friends, and I can not remember When I
first began to pray, for my mother taught me to go to God with
everything, even when a very small child. When I was five and a half
years of age we moved to Walnut Ridge, Indiana, where there was a
Friends' meeting of more than ordinary size and activity. It was here
that my conversion took place. I remember the event as distinctly as if
it were yesterday.
CONVICTION.
I always prayed at the family altar, and that was an institution which
was never neglected for anything in our home, and I had never omitted
my evening devotions; but one summer day while playing by myself under
the trees in the front yard, a great fear came upon me lest I had never
had a change of heart. Though less than six years old, I had sat in the
"gallery" behind my father as he preached too often to be ignorant of
the necessity of the new birth. It was a perfect day, but conviction
settled upon me more and more deeply, and a dark shadow seemed to take
the brightness from everything. Unable to endure the heartache any
longer, I ran into the house and sat down with my father and mother,
waiting in silence for some time. Finally I asked them if I had "ever
been converted," told them I "wanted to be," and immediately we knelt
in prayer. How I did weep, and how badly I felt! I can see the back of
that little sewing-rocker now swimming in my tears. (I wonder where
that rocking-chair is now! The last I knew it was in California, having
left us at an auction--an occasion not unfamiliar to most of
preacher-families.) They told me to pray, and I prayed with all my
heart. If ever there was a little boy who felt that he was a great
sinner, I was the boy. I remembered all the things I ever did that I
knew were wrong. My boyish wickednesses, things that seem a rather
absurd lot now in the light of the sins of the average lad of six that
I know to-day, caused me great pain. Soon peace came, and what
happiness! When I went out doors again the very birds twittered with
increased gladness, and the sky seemed a far deeper blue, and the grass
and flowers rejoiced with me in my new-found experience.
RETROGRESSION.
Would God I had retained my simple faith in Jesus! But it was not long
before I wandered away from Christ, and the life of prayerfulness and
obedience. For years my religious experience was most unsatisfactory. I
was under frequent convictions, and knew that the Spirit was striving
with me persistently, but I hardened my heart and would not yield
completely to God. As I look back at those years of restlessness and
rebellion, I recall with gratitude the forbearance and long-suffering
of a now sainted mother. How she carried her proud, stubborn boy on her
heart, and how she held onto God's skirt and tugged away until He
answered.
THE STRIVING OF THE SPIRIT.
During the winter of 1891-1892 I became almost wretched on account of
conviction. The Holy Ghost fairly dogged my steps and whispered in my
ear at every turn. There were many things which He used to convict me
of--my unfaithfulness and aridity of soul and life. My junior year at
Oak Grove Seminary is distinctly remembered as a time of continuous
conviction and unrest. Now and then I would find peace and comfort for
a time, but they remained only for a time. I kept up secret devotions
very carefully. I never missed my daily prayers, but my life was
inconsistent and God-dishonoring. The lives of real Christians rebuked
me, and the mockery of my empty profession haunted me like a spectre.
RECLAMATION.
In the summer of 1892 I began to seek God earnestly, and was not long
in finding pardon and reclamation. No sooner was I at peace with God
than I began to hunger for holiness. O, how my heart longed for full
salvation! I saw much about me that was an indication that there was an
experience enjoyed by some of which I was not possessed. My mother's
calm, victorious life, and her constant unwavering Christian faith,
convicted me. I was proud and selfish, and hypersensitive and
ambitious. She was restful, contented, loving, meek. How frequently I
gave way to some temptation, and how mortified I was to be so
humiliated by the Adversary.
HUNGER FOR HOLINESS.
Many of the members of my father's church at Portsmouth had an
experience of freedom and liberty which I craved. In July my father, my
mother, and I spent a couple of days at Douglas camp-meeting. I
remember so well every incident of the trip--my deep unrest as we
entered the grounds, my aversion to certain "boisterous persons" who
said "Bless the Lord" so frequently, my disrelish for food, my dislike
of taking a front seat in the audience. Two old sisters sat facing the
preacher one evening. Their faces were full of joy, and they seemed to
overflow with joy and spiritual exhilaration. I inwardly said, "I wish
I had an experience like they seem to have." I made up my mind I would
seek. I can not recall a word of the sermon. I do not think I heard it
at the time--my mind was so full of an inward struggle.
CANDIDATE FOR SANCTIFICATION.
When the call was made, I went forward and consecrated myself and all
my hopes and desires and longings and all to God. How in the world I
had ever acquired so low a desire I do not know, but my chief ambition
had been to be a professor of science in some college. But the Lord put
me through a series of questions:
"Will you be my property henceforth?"
"Yes, Lord."
"Are you willing that people should call you a 'holiness crank'?"
"Yes, Lord."
"Supposing I should ask you to shout, would you?"
"I would do my best at it."
"Will you give up all your plans and be a one-horse preacher of
holiness if I want you to?"
Ah, here was a rub, indeed. Preaching was precisely what I did not
relish. Anything rather than that. I had visions of small salaries, and
country churches, and long, cold rides. I had seen the life of the
preacher ever since I could remember. I debated the question. Then I
answered, "Yes." The audience was singing:
"Here I give my all to Thee--
Friends and time and earthly store.
Soul and body then to be
Wholly Thine forever more."
They told us seekers to raise our hands if we meant it. I meant it, so
up went a hand. Instantly faith got an answer, and the witness came,
and I knew that I was sanctified wholly.
A DULL SCHOLAR
But I was a dull scholar, and had to learn many lessons after my
Jordan-crossing. Owing to my failure in definite testimony, my
experience suffered partial eclipse, and my last year at Oak Grove was
more or less dark and unhappy. I was much helped, however, by the
reading of holiness books sent me by a sanctified music-teacher, who
had interest enough in me to write me real Fenelon letters and keep me
supplied with holiness reading. During the summer of 1893 I was more
fully established in the grace, and in the autumn began to preach.
THE ABIDING CHRIST.
I have frequently erred in judgment, and made most stupid blunders, but
the perpetual spring experience of full salvation has been my greatest
comfort and blessing. The abiding Christ gives zest and spice to life,
and makes the ministry of holiness delightful and joyous.
GOD ALWAYS ANSWERS.
God has blessed my ministry, and given me success. It is all of Him.
What a wonderful God we have! He never leaves us. I have called upon
Him when preaching, and He has always answered. I have cried to Him in
hours of loneliness and discouragement, and He has replied like a
flash. I stood by a cot and watched a saintly mother slip away to the
"undiscovered bourn," and He did not fail me. Hallelujah! He can not
only sanctify, but He can preserve, sustain and keep. Whatever may come
to us, Christ will not forsake us. As we look down the vista of years
to come, and remember that life is swift and serious, we can only lean
hard on the Son of God and push on, confident that His promise, "Lo, I
am with you alway," can not fail. Praise the Lord!
THE END.