DURING the Moorish persecution of Christians in the kingdom of Cordova in the ninth century, there were scores of faithful men and women who laid down their lives rather than deny their faith. Yet, if their historians do not do them injustice, they seem not to have experienced that joy amid their sufferings which characterized the martyrs of the earlier centuries, or those who, later on, fell victims to Romish cruelty and intolerance. They ended their lives denouncing the errors of Mohammed, and defending the doctrines of Christianity, but they appear to have had little to say of Christ Himself. They were martyrs of the Christian religion rather than "martyrs of Jesus," though it may well be that in the day that is coming their Savior will put a higher interpretation upon their sufferings and testimonies than the records of those bygone times enable us to do. From what we read of them we cannot but conclude that what they so bravely contended for at the cost of their lives was their creed rather than the Christ who would fain enshrine Himself in His people's hearts.
We will not depreciate those faithful men and women, however. Their names ring down the centuries for their heroism and fidelity. The historians (themselves strangers to the love of Christ, and knowing nothing of that holy and blessed intimacy with Himself which is the portion of His loved ones) may not have done them full justice.
Considering our own ways, we may raise the question: What does our Christianity mean for us? Is it merely a question of creed and zeal for true and scriptural doctrine? or does it mean for us a living Christ, permeating our lives, dwelling in our hearts, filling us with joy, moving, working, speaking in and through us?
An intimate friend of a great poet was on one occasion walking through his grounds with him. Anxious to know, after all the beautiful things he had written of Christ, how far he knew the Savior personally, he asked: "What is the Lord Jesus to you?" The poet stooped and picked a daisy from the lawn, and said, "All that the sun is to that flower, giving it life and strength, and beauty and fragrance, the Lord Jesus is to me.”
Happy they who can say the same. For this is what the Lord would be to all His people—the mainspring of their lives, the source of their joys, the fountain of their strength. But the Christ who is all this is not to be sought in creeds, however true and orthodox such creeds may be. He is not to be sought in books, though the books may bear faithful testimony to Him. He is the theme of the Scriptures, and speaks to our hearts through His Word; but it is possible to search the Scriptures, even to study them attentively, and yet miss the living risen Christ.
"That I may know HIM!" This was the cherished ambition of the apostle's heart, though he had known Him as his Savior for many a year. Like the Shunammite woman who so appreciated Elisha's company that she wanted more of it, and prepared a chamber for him, so Paul was so attracted by the Lord Jesus that he longed increasingly for that knowledge as his greatest gain.
What the Lord was to Paul, He may surely be to us. We speak and hear sometimes of what He is to God, of the delight which the Father finds in His beloved Son. But are we in a position to appreciate this unless we have proved what Christ is to us? Think that He wants to walk with us, and cheer us by His love all our earthly days! That He would be the Companion of our brighter seasons as well as of our times of sorrow and discouragement! That He would draw near to us in our griefs, and turn our nights of weeping into moments of inexpressible bliss, a joy too deep for words!
Can a mere creed do this for its adherents? Does a belief in the "Christian religion" of itself produce such results? Nay, they can only be ours through personal acquaintance with the living, loving Savior who never ceases to think of us, who helps and succors us in a thousand unsuspected ways, and whose cup of joy will never be full till He has us with Himself in His home of eternal love.
Patrick's prayer, when he was going to preach at Tara and expected to be persecuted, if not slain, may well be ours, not only in times of stress and difficulty, but at all times and under all circumstances. It was this: "May Christ be with me, Christ before me, Christ after me, Christ under me, Christ over me, Christ on my right hand, Christ on my left hand, Christ on this side, Christ on that side, Christ on my back... Christ in the eye of every person who looks upon me, Christ in the ear of everyone who hears me at Tara to-day.”