It is years now since I gave up letter—writing in the common sense of the word. Apart from Christ it is mere nature—in which, alas! we are too apt to live, and which must be bustling, because it has not Christ. The craving for letters is often like the craving for society, a substitute for the love of Christ. Ah! how few open the Bible with the same eager zest with which they open a letter! How few cannot live without daily correspondence with Jesus! I mean hearty, living, personal communion with Him, such as the Song of Solomon describes.
The Bible is like a veil on the face of Christ, and when the Spirit draws it aside, we see all His beauty, and that is what makes us strong and joyous and holy. It is gazing on the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.
Again, I like to think of the Word as a vessel which contains a precious wine. Now, there may be much to do with the outside, and the soul abide in death; but if there be but one small hole made in the side of this vessel, with what joy do we drink this new wine of the kingdom; or as it is in Isa. 12, draw water out of these wells of salvation?
Now, it is to the heart that seeks Jesus that God ministers Jesus; for it is not of him that willeth or of him that runneth, any more than is salvation; though in another aspect it is only the diligent soul that is made fat. Read Prov. 2, and also 8, for this; also 2 Peter 1, where we are told to add to faith virtue, and all these other graces. But why? Not merely for the having them to God’s praise and our blessing, but that we may be neither idle nor unfruitful in the knowledge of Jesus. Ah! that is everything, as Paul says— “That I may know him”—and again, “the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus our Lord.” Other knowledge even about the Word puffs up, but this keeps the soul like a babe on the breast of its Mother, and works into us the very grace and gentleness and love of Jesus Himself. Witness Mary, who sat at His feet. And the grace of Christ is an active thing. It is not the idle contemplation of a beautiful picture; it is the power of living for the comfort and good of others.
This is important, for many delight in the Word—honestly indeed—and yet, not connecting it with Jesus, it is like manna which stinks. Why do they delight in the Word? Because it gives them comfort. You see the heart is not on Christ, but on self. No wonder, then, though it is but as a very lovely song, which leaves only a remembrance of its having been heard. But when it is Jesus Himself we are after, He brings us into the banqueting-house, and there we hear the music and dancing, and for our life we cannot help joining in it. God would not have us to be invalids in His house all our life, feeding on our sorrows and our joys; but like loving children, who come in to a hearty breakfast in the morning, in all the gladness of His smile and the family joy; then who go out to work hard and heartily for Him all day, returning to dine, and to tell how we have sped in commending Christ, by our temper and our ways and words.
There is a verse in Micah, I think— “Do not my words do good to them that walk uprightly” —which contains much truth; and again in the Psalm, “To him that ordereth his conversation aright will I show the salvation of God.” After all, the one thing needful is, to be near Jesus and to hear His words—everything else will follow.
I always find Christ with me in visiting in His name. Of course it is but death if He is not one’s object in visiting. I find that when Jesus Himself came into the world, people were taken up with ten thousand things in one way or another. But He came down not to be a party in their thoughts and to their views, but to get their ears open to the glorious news He had to tell of His Father in heaven. So I find that the current is so strong in most places, that if you do not go in with Christ you get weakened instead of being a help or helped. But it is unspeakably sweet when you can go to a house in the assurance that the current of the affections and thoughts is strong heavenward.