How Shall They Hear
George Cutting
Table of Contents
How Shall They Hear?
WHAT IS GOD’S WAY OF REACHING THE MILLIONS WHO GO NOWHERE?
The question before us refers to certain tidings brought to this world from heaven—the sender, God Himself.
Its engrossing theme, a Man once crucified here, but raised from the dead and glorified there—God's well-beloved Son (Rom. 1:3-4).
The Report itself, announced by the apostles with the Holy Ghost sent down from heaven (1 Pet. 1:12).
The Divine intention—God would have all men to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth (Mark 16:15; Luke 24:47; 1 Tim. 2:4; Acts 17:30).
Toward the close of a long letter unfolding the glories of this heavenly message, its marvellous possibilities, its gracious far-reaching results, a question is raised by the Spirit of God through the pen of the Apostle.
If forgiveness and peace and salvation are proclaimed in it, if joy unspeakable and an inheritance incorruptible and life everlasting are obtained through it, if all men everywhere are concerned in it,
How shall they hear it?
It is this inquiry, and that which hangs upon it, that we propose to consider in these pages.
Two answers to the question will come before us—
The answer of professing Christians generally, as seen in their long-established methods.
The answer of God as seen in the Scriptures.
Alas! that they do not perfectly coincide.
Substantially the united answer is this—
We have provided the place of preaching. We have secured the preacher. We have fixed the hour. And gladly we say to all, Come to us and hear it.
Who can say that this answer does not apply as truly to those who are able to present the glad tidings in its primitive simplicity—full, clear, and unadulterated—as to those who have only a beclouded or mutilated expression of it?
But the real value of an answer to this question does not lie in the universality of its adoption among men, but in the satisfaction it gives to God. This we shall have to consider later. But before going to that side let us make one serious inquiry—
Has the Result of our Answer Satisfied us?
A man starts to cross a mountain. It is the first time he has done so, and seeks direction. He is told by one who ought to know that by taking a certain path the journey on foot will take him two hours.
He starts in good earnest on the path pointed out to him. He walks on and on without any appearance of nearing his destination. Four weary hours are spent, but still no sign of it.
Would it not, think you, be high time for him to stand and inquire: Have I not taken a wrong turn somewhere? That would be wisdom, certainly.
Then let us try to apply our figure to the matter before us.
It has been publicly stated in London recently by an archdeacon in the Established Church, and one, therefore, in a position to speak with pretty good authority, that only about eighteen per cent of its six and a half millions attend church or chapel of any kind.
The other five millions go nowhere to hear the gospel!
And what is still worse, the echo of this serious confession is to be heard from nearly every town and village and hamlet in the land.
Is it not time, with such facts before us, that we began to inquire, Have we not taken the wrong way? For who could be satisfied with methods producing such a result?
If the man in our illustration had only idly sauntered along that mountain path he could not be much surprised that he had doubled the specified time without reaching his destination.
And if the professing Church had shown any such lack of energy in making her plan successful, she need not be surprised at failure either. But it is not so; far otherwise.
Well nigh every available stratagem has been adopted. No pains have been spared—we do not here discuss their character.
1. Costly structures have been erected to arrest the public eye.
2. Mental culture provided for the pulpit to please the public mind.
3. Music—both vocal and instrumental—has been in great request to gratify the public ear.
Indeed, it may well be asked: What has been left undone in seeking to make successful the various competitive cries of Come to us?
We only refer to one thing more. This desire of pleasing men and attracting them to our places has opened the door for one of Satan's most subtle devices.
Deadly though it is to the last degree, it has not only been widely adopted, but is evidently gaining favor every day.
If you want to please men, tell them that which will make them pleased with themselves!
Therefore, if you want to fill your pews, change your preaching to suit the popular ear! Deny or else hide that part of Scripture which would make man ill at ease in his sins.
Tell him that there is a least a little good in him—in spite of Genesis 6:5; Jeremiah 17:9; Mark 7:21-23.
Tell him that this germ of good only needs to be properly cultivated to make him fit for heaven– notwithstanding Romans 7:18; 8:8.
Show him that, consistent with this, neither the new birth nor redemption by blood is necessary—in defiance of John 3:5; Hebrews 9:22.
Smile unbelievingly and assure him that to talk of hell and of eternal banishment from God for those who defiantly reject His gracious provision is only the vulgar blunder of an out-of-date theology—in spite of Matthew 25:46, Mark 9:43-48; and though you may not reach his conscience, you will at least have the satisfaction of reaching his ear. Your preaching will please him; his presence will please you!
This, we verily believe, is one of the last bitter fruits of our come-to-us method.
It is impossible that such a state of things can satisfy us. That is not our question now, but
Does it Concern us?
Is it enough to heave a deep sigh and then settle down comfortably and unconcerned in the midst of these perishing millions?
Nay, have we not done so, until they have come to consider us nearly as indifferent about these things as they are?
When Jesus was on earth the sight of hungry thousands called forth those gracious words—I have compassion on the multitudes?
Millions today are in still greater need. In what way are we expressing our compassion? Seeing them is not serving them, nor is reckoning their number reaching their need.
A certain lawyer once excused himself for not loving his neighbour by pleading the difficulty he had in finding him. Can we find such an excuse? Impossible! Like house-flies in August they are to be found anywhere, everywhere.
Two or three years since a large business house in the very heart of London was on fire, and several employees perished in the midst of it. The poor victims could be seen at the upper windows looking in vain for deliverance, while crowds in the streets below anxiously witnessed their peril.
Why were they not rescued? They could not be reached! But were there no fire-escapes in London of sufficient length to reach them? Yes. But they were not brought. Of bustling activity there was no lack. Many things were resorted to, but all proved inadequate.
The sad event seemed to be a serious reflection upon those in charge, though it is quite possible that no real blame could be attached to anyone. But what if the fire brigade officials had sent a message of this sort to the scene of need: We have splendid fire escapes here. If those who need them will only come to us we will do our best to teach them how to use them?
But who in his senses, you say, would thus trifle with the safety of men's bodies? What, then, of men's souls? What of the millions in the same city who have not yet been reached by the gospel of God—the gospel which is His power unto salvation to every one that believeth (Rom. 1:16).
Does our concern end here? Do we say: If they do not choose to come to us, as far as we are concerned they shall not hear God's message at all? What a magnificent triumph for Satan would that be! God deliver us from even the appearance of it.
God's Answer
We have no hesitation in saying that any unprejudiced mind with the Scriptures before him will not fail to see that, in bold contrast to man's elaborate system, stands God's way in its own unselfish simplicity.
If sinners want to hear, let them come to us! Is our way.
If you would have them hear, go to them! Is God's way. Nor would He have us satisfied to go as mere advertising agents on the line of somebody else will tell you.
He confers on every believer on earth the honor of being a personal witness of the grace he has himself received.
If he had no tongue at all he would have the privilege of showing what Jesus had done for him
Let everybody see it,
If Christ has set you free;
And when it sets them longing
Say, Jesus died for thee?
But let us come at once to the testimony of God in the Scriptures.
The word of the Lord to the delivered demoniac was—Go home to thy friends and show them what great things God hath done unto thee? (Mark 6:19; Luke 8:39).
To the servant when all things were ready for the Great Supper—Go out quickly into the streets and lanes of the city (Luke 14:21).
To the apostles—Go ye into all the world and preach the gospel to every creature (Mark 16:15). And later when delivered from prison—Go stand and speak in the temple all the words of this life (Acts 5:20).
To Philip the Evangelist—Go toward the south ... Go ... join thyself to this chariot (Acts 8:26, 29). Note the eunuch was not told to drive round to Samaria to hear Philip preach.
To Peter—respecting Cornelius—Go with them, nothing doubting (Acts 11:12). Cornelius was not sent to see Peter.
To Ananias—Arise, and go into the street which is called Straight and inquire ... for one called Saul, of Tarsus? (Acts 9:11). The Lord knew as well where Ananias lived as where Saul lodged, yet He did not direct Saul to go to Ananias.
To Paul—Unto whom?—i.e. to the Gentiles—now I send thee (Acts 26:17).
But above every other example Jesus Himself stands before us in Scripture as pre-eminently the sent One? More than forty times in the Gospel of John He so speaks of Himself.
The Good Samaritan—lovely figure of the compassionate deliverer—came to the very spot where the helpless one lay.
The Great Shepherd went out to seek His lost sheep, and did not cease His search until He had reached it where it was. The Pharisees had said: This man receiveth sinners and eateth with them. Mark the import of His gracious reply as it comes out in this parable: I do not wait till they come to Me; I go to them. How lovely.
Now come to what we may safely call
The way of acceptable service.
Its importance is seen in the fact that each evangelist is inspired to record it. We refer to the feeding of the five thousand. With the exception of the feeding of the four thousand, it is the only instance where all served together under His own immediate oversight and personal direction.
Note, therefore, how this service was performed. It was as though He had said, Do not ask them to go elsewhere. Feed them here on the spot.
Do not expect them to run after you for what they need. Bid them sit down where they are, and I will honor you with the service of taking it to them.
Come to Me and get. Go to them and give. And this they did until, one by one, the whole multitude had eaten to their fill.
But further. Not only has our gracious Lord told us how He would like His work done, and illustrated it by parable, He has simply exemplified it in His own personal service.
What heart does not like to dwell on that delightful incident in John 4, where it is said: He must needs go through Samaria? (v. 4). We all know the secret of that journey. There was labor in it, and weariness too, but that mattered little, for there was love in it.
Again, if Andrew found Simon, and Philip found Nathanael, it was Jesus Himself who would find Philip (John 1:41, 43). Blessed Master! Happy the servants who serve after such a pattern!
It matters little that men are unwilling to come to us if we are willing to go to them. It is our waiting till they can be persuaded to come to us that has so seriously stood in the way of their hearing the gospel at all.
It is the feet willing to carry the message to them that God calls beautiful (Isa. 52:7; Rom. 9:15).
When God looked down upon the weary journey of His blessed Son from Judea to Sychar's Well, you may be sure, if one admiring word could have expressed His thought of it, it would have been this word—Beautiful! And does He not still express the same admiring word when He sees willing feet on similar errands?
That God takes a peculiar delight in the assembling of His saints together, and that He has His own way of doing so, there can be no shadow of question.
To devote such places of assembling to the proclamation of the glad tidings, as often as preachers can be found to preach and men to listen, is not only our privilege, but God's pleasure.
To preach the gospel or to teach it with such sympathetic surroundings cannot fail to be a joy to any servant. Beside, it is a service of the greatest importance. The anxious and unestablished need it, and the most advanced will get his heart enlarged by it.
If the unconverted are willing to come to such meetings, we may well encourage them by all the means in our power.
But let us never sin against the light of Scripture by limiting the scope of God's harvest field to such places. Those who attend them have either been found already, or are outwardly occupying the place of seekers.
God says, I was found of them that sought Me not. I was made manifest to them who asked not after Me (Rom. 10:20).
How was this? Was it not that some of those beautiful feet had journeyed to them with the news which makes manifest what He is?
How was the Giving God made manifest to the woman of Samaria? How did she find Christ? Those beautiful feet as we have seen, journeyed to where she was.
He found her an unsatisfied sinner, but not seeking after Him. He filled her heart with the manifestation of Himself, and made her feet beautiful too; for how soon she left her waterpot and went to seek others!
Can there, then, be any question as to the way the gospel was carried at the beginning, or the marvellous triumph accompanying it? In less than thirty years its power had been felt in all the three known continents—Europe, Asia and Africa!
But this by no come-to-us methods. Whether in the Jewish synagogue, or in some place of concourse like Mars, Hill, or by a riverside, Paul went to them—publicly and from house to house?
It is most strikingly significant that the Holy Ghost, Who makes the record for that period, only mentions three buildings used as Christian meeting-places, and not one of them an ecclesiastical edifice!
An upper room, probably a guest chamber (Acts 1:13), a school (Acts 20:9) and a third loft (Acts 20:9).
And, as far as we are told, these were for disciples only. That the unbeliever was free to go is clear enough from 1 Corinthians 14:24-25.
We read, “The secrets of his heart are manifested; and thus, falling upon his face, he will do homage to God, reporting that God is indeed amongst you” (1 Cor. 14:25 JND).
But who could possibly imagine that the ear of every creature under heaven could be reached within such bounds?
How many would have heard Peter preach at Pentecost if he had remained in that Upper room? But he and the rest of the Spirit-filled men went where the needy ones were; they went to the people.
The farm laborer, at certain seasons, may find plenty to do in his master's granary; he needs what he finds in the granary for the sowing, but how much actual sowing would he do if he confined his labours to those four walls?
No, no! The word of the gospel admits of no barriers of limitation.
The Word of God is not bound? It is living and operative? The Apostle's desire was, that the word of the Lord may run and be glorified (2 Thess. 3:1)—and as with the sun, according to God's desire—nothing hid from the heat thereof (Psa. 19:6).
Rather try to chain a sunbeam in some dark cellar, and expect to succeed in your task, than fetter the outgoing of the faithful saying and think by so doing to please the God of the gospel!
But, says one, we cannot all be preachers; and we read: How shall they hear without a preacher?
The common thought is that a preacher is a public speaker only. That is a mistake. Philip preached, that is, announced the glad tidings to one. He got into the eunuch's chariot and preached unto him Jesus.
The field of individual testimony is open to all who have been made personally acquainted with His saving grace and power.
But how shall they preach except they be sent?
That introduces another and very important consideration, namely, the necessary spiritual equipment of
A FULLY QUALIFIED SERVANT.
In what does his fitness consist? It consists, we believe, in the measure in which, by the Spirit's help, he makes use of two mighty moral forces.
And we may add that it is to these two forces he owes not only his power to testify, but his very existence as a Christian.
The first is a positive force, the second a negative one. Both are inseparable from Christ, and each one inseparable from the other.
In order more simply to draw the reader's attention to the first of these, which, for the lack of a better term we call moral forces, we shall follow the Spirit's example and personify the same.
We would beg the reader to note carefully the various features as they come before him, and say if he does not consider that such a servant, if unhindered, would be a fitting vessel to do his Master's work, carry his Master's message, express his Master's mind and spirit, and to do it anywhere. Behold, then, HIS MORAL PORTRAIT.
He can suffer with patience and still retain a kindly spirit—suffereth long, and is kind.
Can see superior favors shown to others without the least jealous grudging—envieth not?
Is neither rash nor insolent—vaunteth not itself?
Without self-importance—not puffed up?
Not unmannerly—doth not behave itself unseemly?
Unselfish—seeketh not her own?
Can endure vexations and contradictions—not easily provoked?
Puts the best possible construction on everybody's conduct—thinketh no evil?
No scandal-monger, he rejoices in what is good and right, and is never glad to speak of the sins and shortcomings of others—rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth with the truth?
Very patient—beareth all things?
Never suspicious—believeth all things?
Always cheerful—hopeth all things?
Will put up with anything—endureth all things?
Come what may, is never without resource—never faileth?
We have only to direct your attention to 1 Corinthians 13 to show you that the first quality in a divine equipment for any service is love. This is abundantly set forth in Scripture.
Love is the outward mark of every true disciple, the inward power of all acceptable service.
In 1 Corinthians 13 we are not told what we ought to do, but what love does, whether we have it or whether we have not.
Love is of God: and every one that loveth is born of God.
Without love, in God's account, we are nothing.
Men may go to college and learn to preach, but they must be taught of God to love! (1 Thess. 4:9).
Money may build imposing edifices, educate able preachers, train effective choirs, and purchase magnificent organs; but if a man would give all the substance of his house for love, it would utterly be contemned? (Song of Solomon 8:7).
He may be taught to understand all mysteries; he may be well schooled in scriptural knowledge, and be as eloquent as an angel to set it forth, but if he has not been taught of God to love, he will have no more spiritual power to win a soul for Christ than the church bell or the chapel organ.
The tongue of the bell can only set forth what the bell is, and however unconsciously, the unconverted preacher can only do the same; while an unseen hand writes sounding brass on both.
Big Ben lets all London know what his own sounding powers are, and Simon Magus gave out that himself was some great one. But Paul wrote: “We preach not ourselves, but Christ Jesus the Lord” (2 Cor. 4:5).
The Faithful and True Witness—Christ Himself (Rev. 3:14)—was the perfect expression of Another. The love that sent Him, the love He was constantly enjoying, was the love that was always seen in Him.
So should it be with every true servant. And so will it be according to the intimacy of his communion with the love expressed to him in Christ.
Of course it is only those who are truly born of the Spirit, and have received the forgiveness of their sins, that can, by the Holy Ghost, enter into this; and only to such we here address ourselves. “We love Him because He first loved us!”
It is by knowing His love that we love; and as the knowledge of His love increases in us, our love grows.
The Holy Ghost sheds abroad that love in our hearts (Rom. 5:5), and, as He does so, our love is strengthened. Hence the first-mentioned fruit of the Spirit is love (Gal. 5:22).
But how is it, says one, that with such marvellous possibilities as are to be found in the possession of the Spirit of Christ, I am able to express so little?
This brings us to the consideration of the other element in the fitness of a divinely qualified servant.
We have said that the two elements of this qualification are inseparable.
Take an illustration. When a steamboat is about to commence her voyage two things are absolutely necessary.
She must have a motive force strong enough to propel her—an engine with steam to work it.
She must be able to resist and exclude the element that will beset her on every side from start to finish—the water through which she is driven.
Without the latter she would not go very far; without the former she would not go at all. The engineer who desires a record passage may think almost exclusively of the first, but a wise captain will carefully consider both.
Now let us seek to apply our figure.
The motive power is love—the love of Christ constraineth us.
The constantly besetting element is self.
The only effective excluder is death.
Hence, if we are not to make shipwreck of our testimony, the great propeller and the great excluder—Love and Death—must go hand-in-hand together. Even Adam himself, outside the garden, was only like the ship we have been describing.
The comfort of his Creator's loving-kindness could be enjoyed within; the humbling witness of what he was could be seen in the skin outside.
But a more marvellous development of the story had yet to be told. The Creator Himself, veiled in flesh, would come into this world of sin, and in His own holy Person would positively make use of death for the ends of love!
Could anything be more marvellous? Well might the angels desire to look into such a mystery. But its foreshadowing was on record long before it was actually carried into effect.
Did Goliath's sword make Israel tremble? In the hand of David the same weapon should be used to drive all fear from their hearts and fill their mouths with praise.
Did Satan's weapon, death, strike fear and terror into the whole of Adam's race? (Heb. 2:14-15). By death—the death of Jesus—God would declare His perfect love; and it is His perfect love that casteth out fear (1 John 4:18).
But we have yet to learn another thing. More was involved in Christ's death than the putting away of our sins.
And unless by the Spirit this is experimentally apprehended we can neither fully enjoy the love expressed, not be fitting witnesses of it to others.
In every believer on earth an evil propensity still exists, and though, as born of the Spirit, with Christ as an object for his affections, a new being has been formed in him, yet that which is born of the flesh is flesh?
It is not only still there, but not one whit better than the day when man crowned the wickedness of crucifying the Lord of glory by battering to death a man who testified of Him—Stephen full of the Holy Ghost?
It is of this evil root—self, as born of Adam—that the Apostle speaks when he says: “I know that in me—that is, in my flesh—dwelleth no good thing” (Rom. 7:18).
Now if this indwelling principle of evil was such that nothing but the death of Christ could deliver the believer from it, then by that death God has proclaimed its hopeless exclusion from His service; has proclaimed it as unmistakably as by the flaming sword of the cherubims He proclaimed Adam's exclusion from Eden.
And if there was no more place for fallen man to dress and keep that garden, even before he had gone to the length of murdering God's Son, how can there possibly be room in God's present harvest-field for that which is born of the same degenerate stock?
If the services of disobedient Adam were righteously refused, how could the services of the murderer Cain be righteously accepted?
What we have to learn is this great moral principle of Exclusion.
If you could improve the flesh you would do more than God did after trying it under various tests for four thousand years.
If you imagine that you can bring to an end its actual existence within you, the Spirit of God says you are only deceiving yourself (1 John 1:8).
Then you say, What can I do? We repeat, Learn the lesson of Self-Exclusion.
Gideon, before his great victory, had to learn it, however dimly; and we too must learn it, however slowly.
By God's special command, all that were fearful and afraid were excluded from Gideon's ranks. Twenty thousand fell out immediately.
Self-preservation has long been called the first law of nature? So it may be; but self-condemnation and self-renunciation are the first elements in the triumphs of grace.
Then followed another ordeal. They were brought face to face with one of their greatest mercies—water. The test of non-self-gratification was applied.
All alike participated in the mercy itself, but nine thousand seven hundred of them showed symptoms of self-indulgence, and were excluded forthwith; and by the sword of the Lord and of Gideon the fearless, self-denying three hundred gained the victory without them! (Judges 8:3, 5).
When the disciples asked respecting their inability to deliver the child from the power of the devil, “Why could not we cast him out” the same secret came out—“This kind can come forth by nothing but by prayer and fasting” (Mark 9:28-29).
Prayer brings the Blesser in. Fasting shuts the hinderer out.
Death is the great excluder, and fasting is the application of death in principle. Carried to its extremity it would be actual death.
Fasting is self-denial, but it is more: it is the denial of self. But even fasting in the way of self-denial is of the greatest service in the individual work of the gospel.
Secret self-denial has a peculiar joy of its own. It enables us to minister more freely to the temporal needs of the poor as we come across them. One shilling thus used in the compassions of Christ, we verily believe, will do more real service than all the stately spires in Christendom, though their cost could only be expressed in millions!
The converted working man of our acquaintance who bought old sleepers out of his own earnings, chopped them up for firewood in his spare hours, and carried the result of his labor to the poor and aged, was no mean servant. [It was not from the man himself we got this information, but from his next-door neighbor.]
True Christianity is full of such beauties! The bestowal of God's unspeakable Gift cost Him something!
And even the giving of a converted thief is to cost him something also, that he may have the honor of being an imitator of God. “Rather let him labor, working with his hands the thing which is good, that he may have to give to him that needeth” (Eph. 4:28; 5:1).
But to return. In the cross God writes His No on man born after the flesh. My own experimental knowledge of him gives me by the Spirit to write my No on the same man (Gal. 5:17).
Christ's death as thoroughly excludes all hope of good in that man as the cursing of the barren fig tree excluded all hope of fruit in it.
Thus does the believer learn to take sides with God against himself, and judge in himself that which God has judged at the cross.
What a lovely specimen of the victorious three hundred type was Paul! What fearlessness when the interests of Christ were in question!
—We were bold in our God to preach the gospel.
What absolute self-renunciation too!
—Death worketh in us, but life in you.
What a tight rein he held! He did not go down on his hands and knees to make earthly comforts his object, thought constantly on his knees for the welfare and spiritual comfort of others! No wonder that he was carried in triumph everywhere.
But perhaps some reader may say, We are not all Pauls today. No. And what is more, there are no Pauls today.
But we have Paul's God to please, and Paul's gospel to preach, and Paul's example to follow, and Paul's equipment open to us!
All that is wanted is Paul's heart to use it; and for that we have the same love that constrained Paul, and the same blessed Spirit's power to shed abroad that love within us. What encouragement!
But spite of this, some one may say, How could I reach these go-nowheres even if I tried?
How? Consider the two mighty forces at your disposal, and you will soon settle that question for yourself.
Is there any person in any house in the land that death cannot reach? Is he to be abashed by the surroundings of the proud and wealthy, or kept at distance by the squalor of the dissipated poor?
Does he wince at man's laugh of scorn, or fall back as if paralysed by the sight of his indifference? Not he! Of all the fallen race who can resist him? Who can match his strength?
Well, he has found his match. “Love is strong as death” (Song of Solomon 8:6).
Is death able to reach the multitude? So is love! With such forces at our back we have nothing to fear.
Millions are made up of units, and there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner that repenteth?
But before going out even to speak to one we shall do well to take our true measure in
The Light of the Cross
There we shall see love and death embracing.
There we shall learn to judge self; there learn the love that has severed us from it by taking our place in death, that by the Spirit we might be united to Him beyond it.
For us He has left all that is of the flesh in the place of judgment—prefigured by the ashes of the sin-offering—that He might serve us in the place where He now is in glory.
We have only to do what He has done, namely, Make use of death for the ends of love, and rejoice in the honor of doing so.
Selfishness is the very opposite of love; the greatest antagonist to its display.
Self must be excluded if love is to be seen.
But how subtle it is! It will do its best to discover a good reason for sparing itself the discomfort and reproach of going personally to those who really need the gospel, and will even consider itself spiritual for its ingenuity!
But bring it to the cross. Its love of ease, its fear of man's scorn, its spiritual pride will surely get a greater shock there than it could possibly get in an hour's visiting amongst the most careless, or in standing in some back street to set forth the praises of Him Who, for our sakes, once endured the insults and mockery of that shameful cross!
Faith cometh by hearing. But if they will not come to us, how are they to hear if we do not go to them?
Aged Anna spake of Him and so may we; and we have far more to tell than she had! Oh, for as much heart to tell it!
Can we not each tell how we found Him; of the welcome we got; of His faithful friendship and patient kindness and tender sympathy and timely succor ever since? Can we not warmly assure them of the same welcome, and lovingly encourage them to come to Him?
And should they have neither time nor inclination to listen to us, can we not leave some little printed message and call again? If all we leave is the impression that we care for them we shall not have called in vain.
We have only one thing to fear—the fear of hiding Christ by intruding ourselves.
Perhaps the less we say to them of the place we go to the better. They will only put us down as canvassers for one of the rival sects of Christendom; and this we should avoid with all our powers. It is our common shame and their serious stumbling-block.
We may freely speak to them of the place we are going to, and of the Person Who makes that place what it is. There is no doubt that what men see in us bears its own peculiar witness to them, but it is to Christ alone that we should direct them, and neither to ourselves nor our place of meeting.
Should they become interested they will not be slow to inquire where we meet together; and when they come they should find a beautiful expression of the household of God. His peace resting, no discord intruding, holiness dwelling and love divine filling every bosom.
Oh, what an impression would be made amongst men if, by the Spirit of God in the power of the love and compassions of Christ, and with the jealous exclusion of the great hinderer every true Christian in the land were moved to care for those who go nowhere! If Jesus died for them, are they not worth our seeking?
What unity would there be in such a testimony! What an honor to the Christ we love! What a joy to the heart of the God Who sent the gospel.
Oh, that just before our Lord's return He may bring it about! He only can.
One Happy Instance
Before closing we desire to bring before the reader just one happy instance of a self-denying soul seeker. The incident was related to the writer by an aged, sober-minded Christian in South Wales, and having come under his personal notice, he vouched for the truth of it.
The incident transpired some years ago while my informant was on a railway journey between Bristol and Southampton.
Two passengers were in the compartment with him—one a Christian minister, the other a man of the respectable working-class type.
The unassuming simplicity of the speech and manner of the latter at once enlisted my friend's interest in him, especially when he gathered the object of his present journey. He was travelling from some village near Exeter to Portsmouth, in order to see and speak to an old chum of his who was lying ill.
He is not likely to get better, he said, and I am not sure abut the safety of his soul! And are you going all that distance on purpose to see him? Yes, I am.
May I ask if you are a family man? Yes, but I am a widower; my daughter lives with me.
And do your earnings enable you to take such a journey as this? Well, yes; though I have never known the color of a pound a week!
This—said my informant, astonished me greatly, especially as the man spoke of it in a way that made me feel he did not regard it as anything very extraordinary!
But, said he, I was still more astonished when he added, I have always a lost man in hand!
It appears he had himself been met by God in grace in the depths of misery and on the very verge of utter despair, and that, after the light had dawned upon him, he not only sought to walk according to it, but to do his utmost to bring others into it.
A little later in the conversation, he said in his simple, unassuming style, I never yet lost my man! though he had, it would appear, bestowed long and patient labor on some before the desired end was reached.
In one case, he confessed, he had made a great mistake. His lost man was a poor enslaved drunkard. My object? he said, was first to make him a teetotaller and then to see him converted.
It was not until he had ten times broken the pledge, which I persuaded him to sign, that I saw where I was wrong.
Then, no longer waiting for reformation, I pointed him to the cross. His soul was saved and he has since led a consistent Christian life and never returned to his drinking habits!
Well, dear reader, it is with much exercised before the Lord that we leave our little paper in your hands.
All our knowledge of Scripture, all our discussion of what the gospel is and how the work should be done, are surely not enough, if, through lack of heart, or love of ease, we shirk the labor of carrying the message to those who need it.
Faith cometh by hearing; and how shall they hear without a preacher?
From an old record comes an important inquiry—most important, for it is God's: Whom shall I send? Who will go for Us?
Laborers He wants, and every heart that loves Him is eligible. Shall not reader and writer humbly but eagerly and joyfully answer: Here am I; send me?
The morning cometh, and also the night? Let us redeem the time because the days are evil.
Since life's short span will soon be past,
Let every day be as our last,
And this our sole endeavor—
Each hour to list what He doth say,
Serve His blest wishes all the way,
Then dwell with Him forever.
Now is our opportunity. With Him is our account.