The period during which our blessed Lord lay in the tomb must needs have proved a dark and bewildering Moment to many of those who looked for redemption Israel. It would demand a calm, clear and vigorous faith to raise the heart above the heavy clouds which gathered, just then, upon the horizon of God’s people; and it does not appear that many possessed such a faith at that trying moment.
We may, doubtless, look upon the two disciples who traveled together to Emmaus as illustrating the condition of many, if not all the beloved saints of God, during the three days and three nights that our beloved Lord lay in the heart of the earth. They were thoroughly bewildered, and at their wits’ end. “They talked together of all those things which had happened. And it came to pass, that while they communed together and reasoned Jesus himself drew near and went with them. But their eyes were holden, that they should not know him.”
Their minds were full of surrounding circumstances. All hope seemed gone. Their fondly cherished expectations were blasted, apparently. The whole scene was overcast by the dark shadow of death, and their boor hearts were sad.
But mark how the risen Savior’s challenge falls upon their drooping spirits! “And he said unto them, What manner of communications are these that ye have one to another, as ye walk and are sad?”
surely this was a reasonable and a weighty question for those dear disciples—a question eminently calculated to recall them, as we say, to their senses. It was precisely what they wanted at the moment, occupied, as they were, with circumstances, instead of resting in the eternal and immutable truth of God. Scripture was clear and plain enough, had they only hearkened to its voice. But, instead of listening only to the distinct testimony of the Eternal Spirit in the word, they had allowed their minds to get thoroughly down under the action and influences of outward circumstances. Instead of standing, with firm foot, on the everlasting rock of divine revelation, they were struggling amid the billows of life’s stormy ocean. In a word, they had, for the moment, fallen under the power of death, so far as their minds were concerned, and no marvel if their hearts were sad, and their communications gloomy.
And, beloved reader, does it not sometimes happen that you and I, in like manner, get down under the power of things seen and temporal, instead of living, by faith, in the light of things unseen and eternal? Yes, even we who profess to know and believe in a risen Savior—who believe that we are dead and risen with Him—who have the Holy Ghost dwelling in us. Do not we, at times, sink and cower? And do we not, at such moments, stand in need of a risen Savior’s challenge? Has not that precious, loving Savior, ofttimes, occasion to put the question to our hearts, “What manner of communications are these that ye have one to another?” Does it not often happen that, when we come together, or when we walk by the way, our “communications” are anything but what they ought to be? It may be we are gloomily moping together over the depressing circumstances which surround us—the weather—the prospects of the country—the state of trade—our poor health—the difficulty of making both ends meet—anything and everything, in short, but the right thing?
Yes, and so occupied do we become with such things, that our spiritual eyes are holden, and we do not take knowledge of the blessed One who, in His tender faithful love, is at our side; and He has to challenge our vagrant hearts with His pointed and powerful question, “What manner of communications are these that ye have?”
Let us think of this. It really demands our consideration. We are all far too apt to allow our minds to fall under the power and pressure of circumstances, instead of living in the power of faith. We get occupied with our surroundings instead of dwelling upon “things above”—those bright and blessed realities which are ours in Christ.
And what is the result? Do we better our circumstances, or brighten our prospects by gloomily moping over them? Not in the smallest degree. What then? We simply make ourselves miserable and our communications depressing; and, worst of all, we bring sad. dishonor on the cause of Christ.
Christians have very little idea of how much is involved in their temper, manner, look and deportment, in daily life. We sometimes forget that the Lord’s glory is intimately bound up in our every movement, and our every expression. We all know how that, in social life, we judge of the character of the head of a household by what we see of his children and servants. If we observed the children looking miserable and downcast, we should be disposed to pronounce their father, morose, severe, and arbitrary. If we see the servants crushed and overwrought, we consider the master hard-hearted and grinding. In short, as a rule, you can form a tolerably fair estimate of the head of a house by the tone, spirit, style and manner of the members of his household.
How earnestly, then, should we seek, as members of the household of God, to give a right impression of what He is by our temper, spirit, style and manner! If men of the world—those with whom we come in contact, from day to day, in the practical details of life—if they see us looking sour, morose, downcast—if they hear us giving utterance to doleful complaints about this, that, and the other—if they see us occupied about our own things—grasping, griping, and driving as hard bargains as others—if they see us grinding our servants with heavy work, low wages, and poor fare—what estimate can they form of Him whom we call our Father and our Master in heaven?
Christian reader, let us not despise and turn away from such homely words. Depend upon it there is need of such in this day of high profession. There is a vast amount of intellectual traffic in truth which leaves the conscience unreached, the heart untouched, the life unaffected. We profess to be dead and risen; but when anything occurs to touch us, either in our persons, in our relations, or in our interests, we very speedily show that the old thing is not practically dead at all, and that our belief in death and resurrection is very much of a mere theory.
May the good Lord give us grace to apply our hearts, very seriously and earnestly, to these things, that so there may be, in our daily course, a somewhat more faithful exhibition of a genuine Christianity—such an exhibition as shall glorify our own most gracious God and Father, and our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ—and such, too, as shall afford to those who come in contact with us, a fair specimen of what pure religion really is, in its action upon the entire course and character.
If the Lord permit, we may resume this subject on a future occasion. Meanwhile, may we all realize more intensely, a risen Savior’s presence, and find therein a triumphant answer to all the dark suggestions of the enemy, the depressing reasonings of our own hearts, and the deadening influence of surrounding circumstances. God, in His infinite mercy, grant it, for Jesus’ sake!
Oh! how our doubting hearts would faint at seeing
The weary way;
But step by step His hand is gently leading,
And day by day.
New blessings lie before us, and new sorrow,
Darkness and light;
But soon will reach the glorious to-morrow,
With no more night.
We trust Him—trust Him for He knows the road;
We are His care;
And all He giveth us is for our good:
We trust, nor fear.
He lets us see the daylight in His love,
To cheer our night;
We try not now to see the road, but look above
Where all is light.