Having, in our paper for September, sought to lay down what we consider to be the essential ground of all true devotedness—namely, an earnest, personal faith in the living God—we shall now, in dependence upon divine guidance and teaching, proceed to consider, in the second place,
THE SPIRIT OF DEVOTEDNESS.
The two things are intimately connected, inasmuch as it is impossible for any one to have to do with God, in the realities of a life of faith, without having his heart drawn out in true worship, and we may say, at the outset, that the spirit of worship is, in very deed, the spirit that must ever characterize true devotedness. It is faith alone that gives God His proper place, and leaves the scene clear for Him to display Himself in His own proper glory. Hence it is that faith enjoys ten thousand occasions of realizing what God is to all who trust Him, and diligently seek Him,· and each fresh realization draws forth fresh strains of praise. Thus a lively faith ministers to a spirit of worship, and a spirit of worship is the vehicle through which to convey the experiences of a lively faith. The more we trust God, the more we shall know Him,· and the more we know Him, the more we must praise Him.
We have little idea of how much we lose by our want of simple confidence in God. Unbelief ever hinders the display of divine power and goodness. " He could there do not many mighty works because of their unbelief." This holds good in our individual history, every day. God will not show Himself if our unbelief fills the field of vision with other objects. It is impossible that God and the creature can occupy the same platform, or jointly form the ground of the soul's confidence. It must be God alone, from first to last. "My soul, wait thou only upon God; for my expectation is from him. He only is my rock and my salvation......Trust in him at all times." Such is the language of faith—" only and at all times." This is the ground—the solid and unassailable ground of true devotedness, and the soul that really occupies this ground will ever be clothed with a spirit of worship. Faith counts on God; God reveals Himself to faith; and faith responds in accents of praise and adoration. Nothing can be simpler, and nothing on earth more blessed. Faith can ever address God in the following words, " Lord, thou knowest me; we are on the same old terms." Blessed terms· May we understand them better!
There is nothing in all this world like having to do with God in the secret of our own souls, and in all the details of our personal history, day by day. It imparts a calmness not easily ruffled, a stability not easily moved, a holy independence of human thinkings and speakings, a moral elevation that lifts the soul above the reach of surrounding: influences. There is an atmosphere enwrapping this world—an atmosphere so dense, so murky, so depressing, that nothing but the eye of faith can pierce it; our own hearts, too, are full of unbelief, ever ready to depart from the living God, constantly sending up infidel reasonings from within, or hearkening to infidel suggestions from without, and therefore we do so greatly need to have the foundations of our personal confidence strengthened, so that our devotedness may be of a more decided type.
But in contemplating the spirit of devotedness as demonstrated in the life of Abraham, we must look somewhat closely at the facts of his instructive history, especially at those facts which immediately precede his call to Mount Moriah. For example, in chapter xx. we find him called to apply the sharp knife of self-judgment to an old root of evil which had found a lodgment in his heart for many a long day. This self-same root may teach the writer and the reader a deeply solemn and an eminently practical lesson.
When Abraham started on his career, we may notice two things, namely, first, that he was clogged and hindered by a natural tie; and, secondly, that he was secretly influenced by a root of moral evil. The natural tie was snapped at Charran, by the hand of death, and Abraham was set free, and enabled to get up to the place to the which God had called him. (Compare carefully Gen. 11:3131And Terah took Abram his son, and Lot the son of Haran his son's son, and Sarai his daughter in law, his son Abram's wife; and they went forth with them from Ur of the Chaldees, to go into the land of Canaan; and they came unto Haran, and dwelt there. (Genesis 11:31), 32—xii. 1, with Acts 7:2-42And he said, Men, brethren, and fathers, hearken; The God of glory appeared unto our father Abraham, when he was in Mesopotamia, before he dwelt in Charran, 3And said unto him, Get thee out of thy country, and from thy kindred, and come into the land which I shall show thee. 4Then came he out of the land of the Chaldeans, and dwelt in Charran: and from thence, when his father was dead, he removed him into this land, wherein ye now dwell. (Acts 7:2‑4).) He was told to get up out of his country and from his kindred, and come into the land of Canaan; but he brought some of his kindred with him, and stopped short at Charran. There his father died, and thereupon Abraham made his way to the true point of divine revelation.
The ties of nature, right enough, and really of God, in their proper place, are sure, if not kept in their place, to hinder true devotedness. It was all right and very beautiful in Elisha to love, with filial tenderness, his father and mother; but, when Elijah had flung around him the prophetic mantle, it was entirely below the mark of a deep-toned and genuine devotedness to say, " Let me, 1 pray thee, kiss my father and my mother, and then I will follow thee." Natural ties are like honey, and we must beware of how much we eat, and when. Was ever filial love so tender as that which glowed in the bosom of the Man, Christ Jesus? Was ever subjection to parental authority so divinely perfect as His? And yet when the claims of service were to be responded to—when the integrity of true Nazariteship was to be maintained, He could say, " Woman, what have I to do with thee?" And again, " Who is my mother?" It was only the true an&. perfect servant who knew how to adjust conflicting claims, and keep each in its place, and hence from the same lips flowed forth the accents of faithful Nazariteship, at one time, and words of melting tenderness at another.
Abraham, then, was hindered in his course by the tie of nature, until that tie was dissolved by death; but the root of moral evil seems to have clung to him for a much longer period of time. What was that root? Alas! reader, it was one which we can only too well understand, namely, a little bit of unbelief, clothing itself in the form of prudent reserve, in reference to his relationship with Sarah.
"What!" it may be said, "unbelief in the heart of the father of the faithful!" Just so. It is a remarkable fact, illustrated in the history of the most eminent saints of God, that their most signal failure appears in the very thing for which they were signalized. Moses,, the meekest man in all the earth, spake unadvisedly with his lips. Job, the model of patience, opened his mouth, and cursed his day. Abraham, the father of the faithful, carried in his heart, for many a long day, and through many a changing scene, a root of unbelief. This root first sprouted in the land of Egypt, whither Abraham had gone to escape the famine that raged in the land of Canaan; and, as might be expected, the sprouting brought trouble on himself and others. "And it came to pass, when he was come near to enter into Egypt, that he said unto Sarai his wife, Behold now, I know that thou art a fair woman to look upon: therefore it shall come to pass, when the Egyptians shall see thee, that they shall say, This is his wife: and they will kill me, but they will save thee alive. Say, I pray thee, thou art my sister, that it may be well with me for thy sake; and my soul shall live because of thee."
Reader, remember, the Holy Ghost has penned this faithful record for our learning and admonition; and truly it is most solemn to think that such a man as Abraham could be so governed by the fear of personal danger as to expose the object of his heart's fond affections, and to deny his relationship to her. True, this conduct was the result of his being in a wrong position, for had he remained in the place to which God had called him, there would have been no need to deny his wife. But, as it generally happens, one wrong step led to another, and hence, having gone into Egypt through fear of the famine, he there denies his wife through fear of death.
" And the Lord plagued Pharaoh and his house with great plagues, because of Sarai, Abram's wife." What marvelous grace to Abraham! God, who ever delights to rebuke His people's fears, as well as to answer their faith, covered His erring servant with the shield of His powerful protection. Abraham's life and Sarah's virtue were both preserved in safety behind that impenetrable shield, and the house of Egypt's monarch was made to feel the heavy stroke of Jehovah's righteous rod. " And Pharaoh called Abram, and said, What is this that thou hast done unto me? why didst thou not tell me that she was thy wife? Why saidst thou, she is my sister? so I might have taken her to me to wife." Abraham had evidently exposed himself in all this matter, and hence, although God protects him, He yet allows Pharaoh to rebuke him.
It is well to see this. When the man of God steps off the path of faith and christian integrity, he, at once, exposes himself to the men of this world, and he need not marvel if they chastise him with an unsparing hand. Had Abraham remained in Canaan, he would not have been reproved by Pharaoh in Egypt. It is better far to starve, if it must be so, in the path of obedience, than gain abundance by the sacrifice of faith and moral uprightness. May we have grace to remember this at all times! It is easy enough to put these things down on paper; but when the moment of temptation arises, it is another thing. Still, we must remember that the Spirit of God has penned the history of Abraham for our profit, and it is well for us to ponder its holy lessons.
And, now, let us inquire, as to the effect produced in Abraham by Pharaoh's sharp reproof. Hid it prove effectual in delivering him from the root of evil which had called it forth? Alas! no. So far as the inspired history informs us, Abraham received the rebuke in silence, and went on his way; but he carried the root along with him to sprout again, after many days. He got back to Canaan, to His altar and to his tent; he displayed a noble disinterestedness with regard to Lot, and received a fresh revelation from God; he obtained a splendid victory over Chedorlaomer and his confederates, and refused the tempting offer of the king of Sodom; he was comforted by fresh assurances and promises from God, and manifested a child-like faith which was counted unto him for righteousness. In short, he passed through a variety of scenes and circumstances, with varied exercises of soul no doubt; but, all the while, the moral root, to which we are directing the reader's attention, remained unjudged and unconfessed. It had sprouted and produced its bitter fruit; hut, as yet, the sharp knife of self-judgment remained to be applied to it and it is not until we reach the twentieth chapter of Genesis that this root again appears above the surface, in the matter of Abimelech, King of Gerar. Here we have the same scene enacted over again, after years of rich experience of divine goodness and loving-kindness. The King of Egypt and his house had been brought into trouble before, and the King of Gerar and his house are brought into trouble now; for Jehovah reproved kings for Abraham's sake, though the kings had reason to reprove Abraham because of his ways.
" Then Abimelech called Abraham, and said unto him, What hast thou done unto us? and what have I offended thee, that thou hast brought on me and on my kingdom a great sin? thou hast done deeds unto me that ought not to be done. And Abimelech said unto Abraham, What sawest thou that thou hast done this thing?" This was bringing the matter to a point. There was no escaping such plain dealing, and therefore Abraham frankly opens his heart, and unlocks that secret chamber, which had been kept shut for so many years. He tells out all, and exposes every fiber of the root which had proved the source of so much trouble to himself and others. Let us hearken to the unreserved confession of this dear and honored man of God. " And Abraham said, because I thought, surely, the fear of God is not in this place; and they will slay me for my wife's sake. And yet indeed she is my sister; she is the daughter of my lather, but not the daughter of my mother; and she became my wife. And it came to pass when God caused me to wander from my father's house, that I said unto her, This is thy kindness which thou shalt show unto me, at every place whither we shall come, say of me, he is my brother."
Here was the root of the whole matter. And now why do we dwell upon it? Why seek to unfold it in such detail? Simply for the real, spiritual profit and moral health of the Christian reader. Have we not all our roots? Yes, verily, deep, strong, and bitter roots—roots which have been the source of a world of sorrow and shame to ourselves, and of trouble to those with whom we had to do. Well, then, these roots must be reached and judged, for so long as they remain unreached and unjudged, it is impossible—utterly impossible that we can reach the higher stages of the path of devotedness. Need we remind the reader that it is not, by any means, a question of life or salvation? Need we recall him to the thesis of our paper, which is simply this, " What is devotedness?" Our one grand object, just now, is to raise the tone of devotedness in the soul of every Christian who may scan these lines. But we know that devotedness, in order to be true, steady, and effective, must rest on the proper ground, and breathe the proper spirit. That ground is faith, and that spirit is worship; and though it be quite true that a soul may occupy, in the main, the ground of faith, and breathe a spirit of worship, while yet there are many roots in the heart unreached and unjudged, we are, nevertheless, fully persuaded that so long as there is any hidden root of evil in the heart, any chamber which we keep locked, and refuse to have properly lighted and ventilated, the higher stages of practical devotedness are yet beyond and above us.
God knows we do not want to depress the heart of the reader. Indeed, if our lines have aught of a depressing tendency, their effect should be realized first and most of all by the writer himself. But, no; we would fain encourage and exhort; and it is with a simple view to these desirable ends that we now turn directly to the reader, and put this plain and pointed question home to him, Hast thou any secret reserve in thy soul?—any hidden root of evil deep down in thy heart and mind?—is there aught that thou art keeping back from the action of the light and from the edge of the knife? Search, and see! Search diligently! Do not deceive thyself, nor let Satan deceive thee. Deal honestly and truly with thine own soul in this matter. Let no false application of the doctrines or principles of grace prevent thee from exercising a most rigid censorship over thy ways, and over thy character, and over thy heart with all its motive springs, and hidden chambers. Be assured of it, there is an urgent demand for real heart work on the part of all who long to tread the highest stages of the divine life. We live in a day which 13 earning for itself, in the judgment of every honest, and earnest spirit, the title of " A day of shams." Yes, reader, "sham" seems stamped upon all around, whether in the department of politics, commerce, or manufactures: and, most assuredly, much of the Christianity of the day forms no sort of exception to the rule. Hence the demand for reality on the part of the true Christian, and, unquestionably, all reality must find its source in the heart. If the heart be not right and real with God, we cannot be real is anything.
But there is another point to which we must refer, in the life of Abraham, ere we close this part of our subject. It is presented in the twenty-first of Genesis. The bondwoman and her son are cast out of the house. We do not dwell upon this point, but merely name it for the purpose of pointing out the deep moral conveyed to us in this portion of Abraham's history. The heart and the house had both to come under judgment, ere the call to Moriah fell on the patriarch's ear. God was about to call His beloved servant into the very highest position that man can occupy—to demand of him an expression of devotedness of the very highest order-to pass him through a crucible of the very highest degree of intensity; and, be it observed, that ere He did so, the root of moral evil had been reached in the heart, and the legal element had been expelled from the house. All this is deeply practical. God deals with moral realities. If we are to walk with Him, along the high and holy pathway of pure devotedness, the heart and the house must be duly regulated. If the real desire of our hearts be after a closer walk with God, we must see to it that we are not retaining anything within or about us that would not comport with that nearness. Our God is infinitely gracious, merciful, and patient. He can bear with us, and wait upon us, in marvelous tenderness; but, at the same time, we have to remember that we forfeit present blessing and future reward through our lack of earnest devotedness. There is nothing of legality in this, it is but the just application of the principle of grace in which we stand.
"And it came to pass that God did tempt Abraham." Why is it we never read such words as these, " It came to pass that God did tempt Lot?" Alas! Lot was never in a moral condition to warrant his being so highly honored. Sodom tempted Lot; but it was no temptation at all to Abraham. What a contrast between Lot in the cave, and Abraham on Mount Moriah! And yet they were both saved. But, ah! what a poor thing to be content to be saved! Ought we not to sigh after those spiritual heights which lie beyond? Should we not long to give expression to a more ardent devotedness? Oh! that our houses and our hearts were in a moral condition acceptable in the sight of God, so that we might enjoy habitual nearness to Himself, and unbroken communion with Him. This is our privilege, and we should never be satisfied with anything less.
It was a high honor conferred upon Abraham when God called him into the place of trial—when He asked him for " his son, his only son Isaac." It was an elevated point in the patriarch's career, and that he felt it to be such we may judge from the spirit in which he responded to the divine call, and in which he repaired to the scene of sacrifice. " I and the lad will go yonder and worship." Here the true spirit of devotedness most blessedly unfolds itself. To give up his only son—the object of his affections- the channel of all God's promises—to lay this one as a victim on the altar—to see him consumed to ashes -what was it all? Just an act of worship. This was real work indeed. It was no empty lip profession—no saying, " I go, sir," and yet not going at all. " Abraham believed God." Here lay the secret of it all. He had learned to yield an unquestioning credence and an implicit obedience to the word of the Lord, and therefore when called to lay his Isaac upon the altar—that Isaac for whom he had longed and waited and trusted—when called to yield him as a sacrifice, he bows his head, and says, " I and the lad will go yonder and worship."
Thank God, that there ever lived such a man as Abraham—that there was ever enacted such a scene as that upon Mount Moriah—and that we have so vividly and forcibly presented to our hearts, the ground and the spirit of true devotedness!
(To he continued, if the Lord, will.)