AN apt learner in the school of God, one who had advanced to its highest standard, thus writes —
"I have learned.
"I know.
"I am instructed.
"I can do all things.
"I have learned in whatsoever state I am there with to be content.
"I know both how to be abased, and I know how to abound.
"I am instructed, everywhere and in all things, both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need.
"I can do all things THROUGH CHRIST WHICH STRENGTHENETH ME."
These wonderful words were penned while he was in a dungeon, chained to a heathen soldier, and in momentary peril of the executioner's sword. They are no words of sentimentalism, far from it, they express an absolute reality. They are not mere poetry, but a deep personal experience.
I have learned! So he speaks. He had learned the lesson for himself. No one could learn it for him. Our experiences are our own. It was a lesson for the heart, for his heart, and so it was learned. How long it took to learn this lesson, he does not tell us; how it was taught him, he does not say, but the story of his suffering and his holy life of devotion to Christ gives us light upon the matter.
I know! He was speaking in the presence of God, his heart close to Christ, so close that he could say truly, "To me to live is Christ." In that light and that love, he could say "I know how to be abased." Yes, he knew how to follow the footsteps of his Master, who had humbled Himself; and whose humility men took advantage of, so that they despised Him and spat upon Him. Meekly, patiently, holily, this scholar had followed Jesus, and thus he knew how to be abased. And more, he knew “how to abound." Prosperity did not exalt him; he could bear what so few can bear—prosperity!
This was all learned, all a matter of instruction in the school of God. The experience, the knowledge, resulted from the training and the teaching of God. Everywhere and in all things, whether amongst the heathen or within the church, in the dungeon or in the Christian family circle, whether fleeing from one city to another or dispensing abroad the gifts of God, he was instructed both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need.
We wonder at such Christianity, such a resemblance to Christ. Contemplating it we feel how small we are. Here is, indeed, the “higher Christian life," here, indeed, is "holiness." And very wisely may such as speak of that which is "higher "study this advanced scholar's meekness, gentleness, and patience in daily life.
Yes, this learner in the school of God had learned his lessons, and his knowledge was power. His knowledge was heart-knowledge, wrought within him by God, and hence he could say also, “I can do all things."
Christians sigh for power. But what is the power sighed for? Very often of a sort as unlike that which we are considering as it is possible to conceive.
The source of the power for true holiness is Christ, and Christ continually drawn upon. This is not a sudden conversion to power, no, but power obtained through constant dependence. A power that in no sense abides in the believer independent of its source. But one that may rather be compared to flowing water which is derived from the reservoir, or the force which passes through the wire attached to the electric storage. "Christ strengtheneth me," said Paul. Christ, the apostle's power, empowered His servant to live the life which glorifies God.