A man of the world should be a man of spirit; a Christian should be a spiritual man.
How wide the difference between these two designations, and what a contrast they present! Necessarily so, indeed, if one be a true characteristic of an earthly, the other of a heavenly race. For heaven and earth, light and darkness, Christ and the world, are not farther apart, nor are they more opposed, than a man of spirit and a spiritual man.
What is a worldly man worth if devoid of spirit, and what is a Christian without spirituality? We all understand what is meant by a man of spirit; an energetic, active character, proud perhaps and ambitious, full of plans and projects; one that thinks well of himself, and one that is sure to make his way in this world.
The character of a spiritual man is not so easily described, though quite as marked and decided. In him natural activity and energy, pride and ambition, have given place to high and holy qualities, characteristic of those who have been called with a heavenly calling. Emptied of himself he becomes a sphere in which the Spirit of God acts for the glory of Christ. His will is gone, and he lives not unto himself, but unto Him who died for him and rose again. He can in measure say, “Not I, but Christ who liveth in me;” he bears about in his body the dying of Jesus that the life also of Jesus may be manifested in his mortal body.
This, then, is the heavenly in contrast with the earthly man; the spiritual man in contrast with the man of spirit. Alas! how frequent the latter; how scarce the former!
It must not be supposed that every Christian is a spiritual man. For though a worldly man is generally a man of spirit, is it equally the rule for a Christian to be a spiritual man?
Indeed, the object of this article is to consider a little the question, how a Christian is to become, practically, a spiritual man.
The first step, undoubtedly, is to reckon the flesh dead, that old evil nature, yourself, in fact, which God judged, condemned, and executed at the cross of Christ. Romans 6; 2 Corinthians 4:10, and other passages all bring this out. But many a sincere Christian reading these Scriptures will ask, What is the power for this? How is this to be accomplished? Take an instance. Here am I, a Christian, but, strange anomaly, a man of spirit, interested and absorbed in worldly affairs, carried away and engrossed by one thing after another; to subdue all my tastes and desires would take all my time, even had I always the power and the will, which alas, I have not. What then is the remedy for such a case?
In answer to this question let us take up an Old Testament story, one of God’s cabinet pictures, if I may so speak, that lie scattered through the word; an exquisite gem cut by the Spirit of God, set literally in gold of Ophir and adorned with precious stones. Lay aside for a short time this pamphlet and carefully read the first thirteen verses in the tenth chapter of the first book of Kings, containing the account of the queen of Sheba’s visit to King Solomon.
One fact that you will remark at the outset is that the Queen of Sheba is not attracted to Solomon by her need. Nor does she come for what Solomon has to give, This is no picture, I take it, of a sinner’s approach to Christ when his need is uppermost, and Christ is valued, and rightly so, for what He has to give.
We do not find here a sinner and a Savior. Rather is it the history of one who, having been saved, has known his Savior by hearsay only; one who has been living far away, where men of spirit abound, still clinging in some form or other to the world that cast Christ out; but who, having heard such fair reports of Jesus, has come into His presence, not for the sake of what He has to give, but to know Him who has given all.
And, I think, if we travel through these verses, we shall find out how a man of spirit may become a spiritual man, always, however, remembering that in the former we do not now speak of a worldly man, but of an earthly minded Christian.
The Queen of Sheba comes to prove Solomon with hard questions, which, however, soon disappear in Solomon’s presence.
And we, too, it may be, busied over our Bibles, sometimes find our hard questions all vanish as we are brought into the presence of the Lord Himself; for difficulties are all forgotten when Christ is before the soul. Notice, too, that the queen has to leave her sphere and come to his, to Jerusalem, the city of the great king: We also, while living in our circles must ever remain far from Christ. To see Him, as He is, we must leave our sphere and enter His. We must look at Him in the light, not of our thoughts, but of God’s words.
“When she came to Solomon she communed with him of all that was in her heart.” So gracious was he that she was encouraged to open out her whole heart, when perhaps she had only thought to puzzle him with the hard questions which filled her head.
And does not each of our hearts echo, I, too, know something of this? I have sat over Scripture full of head questions, until, getting into the Lord’s presence, my heart has been opened and the head has been forgotten.
“And when the Queen of Sheba had seen all Solomon’s wisdom:” what a sight! why the half had not been told her, and what had been told was too wonderful for belief; and yet it had brought her from a far country.
Does this contain no reproof to us? Have not reports been brought to us by those who have known Him where He is? But when at last we find ourselves alone in His blessed presence, we can indeed say, in the words of an old hymn,
“The love of Jesus, what it is
None but His loved ones know.”
But it was not the moment the Queen of Sheba came that she saw all this. It took time. And if we were to spare a little more of our time in this busy, busy age to spend with Jesus, how richly should we be repaid!
To sit and meditate on Him whom our souls love, until at last, as we get consciously in the presence of the Lord, meditation changes to praise. How this reminds us of that moment, described in Luke 24, when the Lord made as though He would have gone farther, after answering all the hard questions of the two going to Emmaus. But they constrained Him, and in due time found in whose presence they were. Had they allowed Him to pass on from want of time or interest, as we too often do, satisfied perhaps with having our difficulties solved, they might never have known it was Jesus Himself who was with them. It is the sight of the Lord’s glory that makes a spiritual man.
(To be Continued)