"Let my people go, that they may hold a feast to me in the wilderness." Exod. 5:1.
What a volume of truth is contained in the sentence which we have just penned! It is one of those comprehensive and suggestive passages which lie scattered up and down the divine volume, and which seize, with peculiar power, upon the heart, and open up a vast field of most precious truth. It sets forth, in plain and forcible language, the blessed purpose of the Lord God of Israel to have His people completely delivered from Egypt and separated unto Himself, in order that they might feast with Him in the wilderness. Nothing could satisfy His heart, in reference to them, but their entire emancipation from the land of death and darkness. He would free them not only from Egypt's brick-kilns and task-masters, but from its temples and its altars, and from all its habits and all its associations, from its principles, its maxims, and its fashions. In a word, they must be a thoroughly separated people, ere they could hold a feast to Him in the wilderness.
Thus it was with Israel, and thus it is with us. We, too, must be a fully and consciously delivered people ere we can properly serve, worship, or walk with God,. We must not only know the forgiveness of our sins, and our entire freedom from guilt, wrath, judgment, and condemnation; but also our complete deliverance front this present evil world and all its belongings, ere we can intelligently serve the Lord. The world is to the Christian what Egypt was to Israel; only, of course our separation from the world is not local or physical, but moral and spiritual. Israel left Egypt in person; we leave the world in spirit and principle. Israel left Egypt in fact; we leave the world in faith. It was a real, out-and-out, thorough separation for them, and it is the same for us. " Let my people go, that they may hold a feast to me in the wilderness."
1. To this rigid separation, as we very well know, Satan had and still has many objections. His first objection was set forth in the following words spoken by the lips of Pharaoh, " Go ye, awl sacrifice to your God in the land." These were subtle words—words well calculated to ensnare a heart that was not in communion with the mind of God. For it might with great plausibility and apparent force, be argued, Is it not uncommonly liberal on the part of the king of Egypt to offer you toleration for your peculiar mode of worship? Is it not a great stretch of liberality to offer your religion a place on the public platform? Surely you can carry on your religion as well as other people. There is room for all. Why this demand for separation? Why not take common ground with your neighbors? There is no need surely for such extreme narrowness.
All this might seem very reasonable. But then mark Jehovah's high and holy standard! Hearken to the plain and positive declaration, " Let my people go I" There is no mistaking this. It is impossible, in the face of such a statement, to remain in Egypt. The most plausible reasonings that ever could be advanced vanish into thin air in the presence of the authoritative demand of the Lord. God of Israel. If He says, " Let my people go," then go we must, spite of all the opposing power of earth and hell, men and devils. There is no use in reasoning, disputing, or discussing. We must obey. Egyptians may think for themselves; Jehovah must think for Israel; the sequel will prove who is right.
And here let us just offer our readers a word, in passing, as to the subject of " narrowness," about which we hear so much now-a-days. The real question is, " Who is to fix the boundaries of the Christian's faith? Is it man or God—human opinion or divine revelation?" When this question is answered, the whole matter is easily settled. There are some minds terribly scared by the bugbear of " narrow-mindedness." But then we have to inquire what is narrowness, and what breadth of mind? Now, what we understand by a narrow mind is simply a mind which refuses to take in and be governed by the whole truth of God. A mind governed by human opinions, human reasonings, worldly maxims, selfish interests, self-will—this we unhesitatingly pronounce to be a narrow mind.
On the other hand, a mind beautifully subject to the authority of Christ—a mind that bows down, with reverent submission, to the voice of holy scripture—a mind that sternly refuses to go the breadth of a hair beyond the written word—that absolutely rejects everything—no matter what or whence it comes—which is not based upon " Thus saith the Lord,"—this is what we call a broad mind.
Reader, is it not—must it not be so? Is not God's word—His mind, infinitely more comprehensive, wide, and full than the word—the mind of man?. Is there not infinitely greater breadth in the holy scriptures than in all the human writings under the sun? Does it not argue much greater breadth of mind, largeness of heart, and devotion of soul to be governed by the thoughts of God than by our own thoughts or the thoughts of our fellows? It seems to us there can be but one reply to these questions; and hence the entire subject of narrowness resolves itself into this simple but very telling motto, " We must be as narrow as Christ and as broad as Christ."
Yes, here lies the grand solution of this and of every ether difficulty. We must view everything from this blessed standpoint, and then our entire range of vision will be correct, and all our conclusions thoroughly sound. But if Christ be not our standpoint, but self, or man, or the world, then our entire range of vision is false, and all our conclusions thoroughly unsound.
All this is as clear as a sunbeam to a single eye and An honest and loyal heart. And really if the eye be not single and the heart true to Christ, and the conscience subject to the word, it is a complete loss of time to argue or discuss. Of what possible use can it be to Argue with a man who, instead of obeying the word of God, is only seeking to turn aside its edge? None whatever. It is a hopeless task to reason with one who has never taken in the mighty moral import of that most precious word—obey.
We must now return to our immediate theme. There something uncommonly fine in Moses' reply to Satan's first objection, " It is not meet so to do; for we shall sacrifice the abomination of the Egyptians to the Lord Dar God; lo, shall we sacrifice the abomination of the Egyptians before their eyes, and will they not stone? We will go three days' journey into the wilder-
mess, and sacrifice to the Lord our God, as he shall command us." Exod. 8:26.
There would have been a lack of moral fitness in presenting to Jehovah, in sacrifice, the object of Egyptian worship. But, more than this, Egypt was not the place in which to erect an altar to the true God. Abraham had no altar when he turned aside into Egypt. He abandoned his worship and his strangership when he went down thither; and if Abraham could not worship there, neither could his seed. An Egyptian might ask, why? But it is one thing to ask a question, and another thing to understand the answer. How could the Egyptian mind enter into the reasons of a true Israelite's conduct? Impossible. What could such an one know of the meaning of a " three days' journey?" Absolutely nothing. " Beloved, the world knoweth us not, because it knew him not." The motives which actuate, and the objects which animate, the true believer lie far beyond the world's range of vision; and we may rest assured that in the exact proportion in which the world can enter into and appreciate a Christian's motives must the Christian be unfaithful to his Lord.
We speak, of course, of proper christian motives. No doubt there is much in a Christian's life that the world can admire and value. Integrity, honesty, truthfulness, disinterested kindness, care for the poor, self-denial. All these things may be understood and appreciated; but, admitting all this, we return, with deeper emphasis, to the apostolic statement that " The world knoweth us not," and if we want to walk with God—if we would hold a feast unto Him—if it is our heart's true and earnest desire to run a consistent heavenly course, we must break with the world altogether, and break with self also, and take our stand outside the camp with a world-rejected heaven-accepted Christ. May we do so, with fixed purpose of heart, to the glory of His own precious and peerless name!
2. Satan's second objection is very near akin to his first. If he cannot succeed in keeping Israel in Egypt, he will at least try to keep them as near to it as possible. " I will let you go, that ye may sacrifice to the Lord your God in the wilderness; only ye shall not go very far away." Chapter viii. 28.
There is very much more damage done to the cause of Christ by an apparent, partial, half-hearted giving up of the world, than by remaining in it altogether. Wavering, undecided, half-and-half professors injure the testimony and dishonor the Lord, far more than thorough out-and-out worldlings. And, further, we may say, there is a very wide difference indeed between giving up certain worldly things, and giving up the world itself. A person may lay aside certain forms of worldliness, and, all the while, retain the world deep down in the heart. We may give up the theater, the ball room, the race course, the billiard table, the concert, the flower show, and the croquet ground; and yet cling to the world all the same. We may lop off some of the branches, and yet cling, with fonder tenacity, to the old trunk.
This must be carefully seen to. We feel persuaded that what hundreds of professing Christians need is to make a clean break with the world—yes, with the world, in all the length and breadth, depth and fullness. of that very comprehensive word. It is utterly impossible to make a proper start, much less to make any progress, while the heart is playing fast and loose with the holy claims of Christ. We do not hesitate to express it as our settled conviction that, in thousands of cases, where souls complain of doubts and fears, ups and downs, darkness and heaviness, lack of assurance, and comfort, of light, liberty, joy, peace, and vivid realization, it is owing to the simple fact that they have never really broken with the world. They either seek to hold a feast to the Lord in Egypt, or they remain so near as to be easily drawn back again—so near that they are neither one thing nor the other—so near that whatever influence they possess tells all the wrong way—tells against Christ and for the enemy.
How can such people be happy? How can their peace flow as a river? How can they possibly walk in the light of a Father's countenance, or in the joy of a Savior's presence? How can the blessed beams of that sun that shines in the new creation reach them through the murky atmosphere that envelopes the land of death and darkness? Impossible. They must break with the world, and make a clear, decided, wholehearted surrender of themselves to Christ. There must be a full Christ for the heart and a full heart for Christ.
Here, we may rest assured, lies the grand secret of christian progress. We must make a proper start before ever we can get on; and in order to make a proper start we must break our links with the world, or rather, we must believe and practically carry out the fact that God has broken them for us, in the death of our Lord Jesus Christ. The cross has separated us forever from this present evil world. It has not merely delivered us from the eternal consequences of our sins, but from the present power of sin, and from the principles, maxims, and fashions of a world that lieth in the hands of the wicked one.
It is one of Satan's masterpieces to lead professing Christians to rest satisfied with looking to the cross for salvation while remaining in the world, or occupying a border position—" not going very far away." This is a terrible snare, against which we most solemnly ware the christian reader. What is the remedy? True heart-devotedness to, and fellowship with, a rejected and glorified Christ. To walk with Christ, to delight in Him, to feed upon Him, we must be apart from this godless, christless, wicked world—apart from it in the spirit of our minds, and in the affections of our hearts—apart from it, not merely in its gross forms of moral pravity, or the wild extravagance of its folly and gaiety, but apart from its religion, its politics, and its philanthropy—apart from the world in all that goes to make up that extensive phrase.
But here we may be asked, "Is Christianity merely a stripping, an emptying, a giving up? Does it only consist of prohibition and negation?" We answer,. with hearty and blissful emphasis, No! A thousand times, No! Christianity is pre-eminently positive—intensely real—divinely satisfying. What does it give us in lieu of what it takes from us? It gives us " unsearchable riches" in place of " dung and dross." It gives us " an inheritance incorruptible, undefiled, and unfading, reserved in heaven," instead of a poor passing bubble on the stream of time. It gives us Christ, the goy of the heart of God—the object of heaven's worship—the theme of angels' song—the eternal sunlight of the new creation, in lieu of a few moments of sinful gratification and guilty pleasure. And finally, it gives us an eternity of ineffable bliss and glory in the Father's house above, instead of an eternity in the awful flames of hell.
Reader, what sayest thou to these things? Is not this a good exchange? Can we not find here the most cogent reasons for giving up the world? It sometimes happens that men favor us with their reasons for resigning this, that, and the other branch of worldliness; but it strikes us that all such reasons might be summed up in one, and that one be thus enunciated " A reason for resigning the world—I hare found Christ." This is the real way to put the matter. Men do not find it very hard to give up cinders for diamonds—ashes for pearls—dross for gold. No; reader, and in the same way, when one has tasted the preciousness of Christ, there is no difficulty in giving up the world.; nay, the difficulty would be to retain it. If Christ fills the heart, the world is not only driven out, but kept out. We not only turn our back upon Egypt, but we go far enough away from it never to return. And for what? To do nothing? To have nothing 9 To be gloomy, morose, melancholy, sour, or cynical? No.; but to " hold a feast to the Lord." True it is " in the wilderness;" but then the wilderness is heaven begun when we have Christ there with us. He is our heaven, blessed be His name!—the light of our eyes, the joy of our hearts, the food of our souls, for even Heaven would be no heaven without Him; and the wilderness itself is turned into a heaven by His dear, bright, soul satisfying presence.
Nor is this all. It is not merely that the heart is thoroughly satisfied with Christ; but the mind also is divinely tranquilized as to all the details of the path—the difficulties—the questions—the knotty points that so constantly crop up to trouble and perplex those who do not know the deep blessedness of making Christ their standpoint, and viewing all in direct reference to Him.
For instance, if I am called to act for Christ in any given case, and instead of looking at the matter simply in its bearing upon Him and His glory, I look at how it will affect me, I shall, most assuredly, get into darkness and hopeless perplexity, and reach a wrong conclusion. But if I simply look at Him and consider His glory, and see how the matter bears upon Him, I shall see the thing as clear as a sunbeam, and move, with holy elasticity and firm purpose, along that blessed path which is ever illuminated by the bright beams of God's approving countenance. A single eye never looks at consequences, but looks straight to Christ, and then all is simple and plain; the body is full of light, and the path marked by plain decision.
This is what is so needed in this day of easy-going profession, worldly religiousness, self-seeking, and manpleasing. We want to make Christ our only standpoint—to look at self, the world, and the so-called church from thence—to make Him our center, and reason from Him, utterly regardless of consequences. Oh! that it may be so with us, through the infinite mercy of our God. Then we shall understand something of the force, depth, beauty, and fullness of the opening sentence of this paper, " Let my people go, that they may hold a feast to me in the wilderness."