We all love our native land, yet none of us love it as the Jews loved Jerusalem. We have only to open the book of Psalms to see how dear the city of their fathers was to the heart of the Jews.
“Great is the Lord, and greatly to be praised in the city of our God, in the mountain of His holiness. Beautiful for situation, the joy of the whole earth, is mount Zion, on the sides of the north, the city of the great King” (Psa. 48:1-21<<A Song and Psalm for the sons of Korah.>> Great is the Lord, and greatly to be praised in the city of our God, in the mountain of his holiness. 2Beautiful for situation, the joy of the whole earth, is mount Zion, on the sides of the north, the city of the great King. (Psalm 48:1‑2)).
These are just samples of countless expressions of love and devotion for Jerusalem, their happy home. And all the time of the captivity in Babylon the Jews were longing to be once more in Jerusalem! Oh, to see the city of cities again; oh, to walk once more the streets of the holy Jerusalem! They could not even think of their far-off home without tears.
“By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down, yea, we wept, when we remembered Zion. If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning. If I do not remember thee, let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth; if I prefer not Jerusalem above my chief joy” (Psa. 137:1,5-61By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down, yea, we wept, when we remembered Zion. (Psalm 137:1)
5If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning. 6If I do not remember thee, let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth; if I prefer not Jerusalem above my chief joy. (Psalm 137:5‑6)).
Yet, strange to say, although the Jews were longing for the Holy City all the time they were in captivity, when they did return to their native land, and it was possible once more to live in Jerusalem, they seem to have preferred to live any other place rather than Jerusalem. It was most difficult to get any of them to consent to live in the capital.
Nehemiah found himself face to face with this difficulty when he had finished the repairs of the city. The rubbish was cleared away; the walls were built; the gates were set up; the fortresses were strengthened—but the city itself was not inhabited. Here and there houses were scattered about; here and there was a group of buildings—but inside the walls were many great empty spaces, large pieces of unoccupied ground.
The walls had been set up on the old sites, and were about four miles in circumference. It was a large space to fill, and, as Nehemiah looked around, he saw that while the city was imposing from without, it was a bare, miserable place inside. “The city was large and great: but the people were few therein, and the houses were not builded.”
Not only was the city unsightly, but there were not enough inhabitants to protect the walls. In case of an attack, what could be done? Four miles of wall was a long space to guard and defend; how could more people be persuaded to live there? It was absolutely necessary that Jerusalem should have a larger population.
Yet Nehemiah found that no one wished to move from the country places around, and to come into Jerusalem. Every town, every village in Judea was more popular than the capital. They would rather live in sultry Jericho than on the mountain heights of Jerusalem. They preferred stony Bethel to the vine-clad hills of the City of God. They would rather live in the tiny, insignificant village of Anathoth than in the capital itself.
Why was this? Why had the Jews of Nehemiah’s day such an objection to living in Jerusalem? Why, after longing for Jerusalem all the time of the captivity, did they shrink from it on their return?
The reason was this: Jerusalem had become the point of danger. All around the returned captives were enemies. The Samaritans, the Moabites, the Ammonites, the Edomites and a host of others were ready at any moment to pounce upon the Jews. In case of an attack from their united forces, what would be the mark at which all these enemies would aim? What place would have to bear the whole force of the attack? Jerusalem itself. They would pass by Jericho, Bethel and Anathoth, as places beneath their notice, but they would all make for Jerusalem. To live in the capital was consequently to live in constant danger and in constant fear. So we need not wonder why they avoided it and settled down in the villages, leaving the capital to take care of itself.
Nehemiah saw that steps must be taken to put a stop to this state of things. In order to bring about the end he had in view, he first took a census of the whole nation, and then he required each town and district to send a tenth of its people to live in Jerusalem.
But of whom was the tenth to consist? How should the number of those who were to migrate to the capital be chosen? It was done by lot; they drew lots to decide who were to go and who were to stay. This was probably done in the usual Jewish way, by means of pebbles. The people of a village would be divided into tens; then a bag would be brought out containing nine dark-colored pebbles and one white one. The ten men would all draw from the bag, and the man who drew the white pebble would be the one who was to move to Jerusalem. By this means the capital would be provided with about 20,000 inhabitants, and would be in a condition to defend itself from attack.
No doubt there was much grumbling, and there were many groans and complaints when the lots were drawn. Those who drew the white stone found they must give up their little farms, their pretty country houses, the homes they had learned to love so well and which they had built for themselves and their children. They must leave the vineyards, olive trees and fig groves which their own hands had planted and which had been so profitable to them. They must give up all these which had been so dear to them and move at once into the city in which they would be in constant danger.
But there were certain brave volunteers. Besides those on whom the lot fell, a certain number came forward and offered to go of their own free will and choice to live in the capital. They would break up their country homes, and for love of their country and love of Jerusalem would move into the Holy City. The post of danger was the post which most needed them, and they were not afraid to go to it. Brave, noble men and women! No wonder that we read that blessings were called down upon them by the rest of their countrymen. “And the people blessed all the men that willingly offered themselves to dwell at Jerusalem” (Neh. 11:22And the people blessed all the men, that willingly offered themselves to dwell at Jerusalem. (Nehemiah 11:2)).
But those brave Jews, who are mentioned here with so much honor, are not the only ones who of their own free will and choice have gone with open eyes to the point of danger.
Fourteen thousand pounds arrived in the course of a few days at a certain house in London: the office of the Church Missionary Society. One person sent £5,000 with no name included. Only a day or two afterward another sent a second £5,000, while £4,000 was contributed in smaller sums.
For what purpose was this immense sum of money sent? It was forwarded to the Society in consequence of a very famous letter which appeared in the Daily Telegraph of November 15, 1876. This letter was written by Dr. Stanley, the great African traveler. It told of a country he had recently discovered in the heart of Africa, a country inhabited by a nation clothed and living in houses, and reigned over by an intelligent king named Mtesa. Dr. Stanley had talked to this man. He had shown him his Bible, and told him something of Christianity, and in this letter in the Daily Telegraph Dr. Stanley stated that King Mtesa was ready and willing to receive Christian teachers, if any were prepared to go out to his kingdom of Uganda.
The result of that letter was that in a few days no less than £14,000 was sent to the Church Missionary Society, in order that they might have the means to establish a mission by the shores of the Victoria Nyanza. A committee meeting was accordingly held, and the Society declared themselves ready to take up the work.
The money was forthcoming, but a great difficulty stared them in the face. Where were the men? Who would be found willing to go to the heart of Africa? The climate was most trying and dangerous for Europeans, the food was unfamiliar and scanty, and, worst of all, the country was so unsafe that all who went must go with their life in their hands, feeling that at any moment they might be attacked and murdered. Would anyone offer for such a dangerous position? Would any be found willing to volunteer for the work? Would any be ready to leave their safe, comfortable homes in England to live in Uganda?
Yes, men were found who willingly offered themselves for the work. Eight noble men at once came forward: a young naval officer, Lieutenant Smith; a clergyman from Manchester, Mr. Wilson; an Irish architect, Mr. O’Neill; an engineer from Scotland, Mr. Mackay; a doctor from Edinburgh, Dr. Smith; a railway contractor’s engineer, Mr. Clark; and two working men, a blacksmith and a builder.
“And the people blessed all the men, that willingly offered themselves to dwell” in Uganda. A meeting was held in the Church Missionary Society’s house, to bid them farewell and to pray for a blessing on their work. Then each of the eight volunteers was asked to say a few words to the friends who were taking leave of them. Mr. Mackay, the young engineer, was the last to speak. Looking round on those who were sending him out, he said: “There is one thing which my brethren have not said, and which I want to say. I want to remind the Committee that within six months they will probably hear that one of us is dead.”
There was a great silence in the room as he spoke these startling words.
“Yes,” he went on, “is it at all likely that eight Englishmen should start for Central Africa and all be alive six months after? One of us at least—it may be I—will surely fall before that. But what I want to say is this: when the news comes, do not be cast down, but send someone else immediately to take the vacant place.”
Mr. Mackay was not wrong. One of the eight, the builder, died as soon as he landed in Africa. The seven others set off for the interior to find the country of King Mtesa. Two of these, Mackay the engineer and Robertson the blacksmith, were taken so ill with fever that they were compelled to go back to the coast.
It was a long wearisome journey, of four to five months, from the coast to Victoria Nyanza. For a little way they were able to go in a boat which they had brought with them from England, but after a short distance they were obliged to leave the river, and, taking their boat to pieces, to carry it with them through the tangled forest. When they arrived at a place named Mpwapwa, it seemed such a good field for missionary labor that one of their number, Mr. Clark, was left to begin missionary work there, while the rest pressed forward to Uganda.
The great lake at last came in sight, and they were cheered by the sight of its blue waters. But when they arrived on its shores, the naval officer and the doctor were both very ill. For thirty-one days they had been carried by the porters, being quite unable to walk, and only a few months after their arrival at the south end of the lake the young doctor died. He was worn to a skeleton, and suffered terribly. The three who remained buried him by the side of the lake, and put a heap of stones over his grave. On a slab of limestone they carved:
JOHN SMITH
M.B. EDN., C.M.S.
DIED MAY 11, 1877
AGED 25 YEARS
Now, only the clergyman, the architect and the naval officer were left to carry on the work. But that very same year, in December, a quarrel broke out between two tribes living at the south of the lake. A man named Songoro, who had been friendly to the missionaries, fled to them for protection. They were at once surrounded by a party of the natives, and, on refusing to give up Songoro to his enemies, Lieutenant Smith and Mr. O’Neill, together with all the men who were with them, were murdered on December 7th.
Only two days before, Lieutenant Smith had written a letter to a friend in England, in which were these words: “One feels very near to heaven here, for who knows what a day may bring forth?”
Only one of the five who had arrived at the lake was now left: Mr. Wilson, the Clergyman. But, thank God, man after man offered himself to fill up the vacant places, and so the work in Uganda was carried on. The people blessed the men who willingly offered themselves for the dangerous work. Should we not also bless those who give themselves to the service of the Lord at great personal sacrifice? Should we not pray for them, that strength and courage may be given them? Should we not help them all we can? Let our daily prayer be:
Lord, bless them all!
Thy workers in the field,
Where’er they be;
Prosper them, Lord, and bless
Their work for Thee—
Lord, bless them all.
Lord, bless them all!
Give them Thy smile today,
Cheer each faint heart,
More of Thy grace, more strength,
Saviour, impart;
Lord, bless them all!
The post of danger is the post of honor, and at that post of honor Mr. Mackay, the engineer, died, February 8, 1890. For thirteen years he had bravely held on to his work. He had never had a holiday; he had never come home to see his friends. The Secretary of the Church Missionary Society wrote at last, urging him to come to England for rest and change. His answer to this letter arrived ten days after the sorrowful telegram which told of his death. He said, “But what is this you write: come home? Surely now, in our terrible dearth of workers, it is not the time for anyone to desert his post. Send us only our first twenty men, and I may be tempted to come to help you to find the second twenty.” So he was faithful unto death.
The people blessed the men who willingly offered themselves, and surely God blessed them too, for “God loveth a cheerful giver.” He who gives to God grudgingly, or because he feels obliged to do so, might as well not give at all, for God will not receive the offering. The money must be willingly given, the service must be cheerfully rendered, the post of danger must be readily occupied, or God will have nothing to do with it. The only giver whose gifts He can receive is the cheerful giver, the one who willingly offers himself.
To be comfortable is the great aim of our lives and our hearts by nature. But sometimes God calls us to be uncomfortable: to leave the cozy home, the bright fireside, the comparative luxury, and to go forth to the post of danger or difficulty or trial. God grant that we may be among the number of those who go forth with a smiling face, among the people who willingly offer themselves!