May I ask you, dear reader, to look at one short verse of Scripture winch depicts, most graphically, a very common state of things around us.
It contains a deplorable account of the last moments, as she deemed them, of the widow of Zarephath. “And she said, As the Lord thy God liveth, I have not a cake, but an handful of meal in a barrel, and a little oil in a cruse; and, behold, I am gathering two sticks, that I may go in and dress it for me and my son, that we may eat it, and die.” 1 Kings 17:1212And she said, As the Lord thy God liveth, I have not a cake, but an handful of meal in a barrel, and a little oil in a cruse: and, behold, I am gathering two sticks, that I may go in and dress it for me and my son, that we may eat it, and die. (1 Kings 17:12).
Notice, first, the woman was a widow, and that she had but one child – an only son. This alone is sad; but, further, observe that she was under the pressure of three dire but common calamities, by which her soul was haunted, as by a specter. The first was destitution – “|iI| have not a cake,” said she; the second was drudgery – “I am gathering two sticks;” and the third was death – “that we may eat, and die.”
Now, tell me honestly, does not this terse little statement describe the life of the majority of the vast community around us? It calls to mind the book of Ecclesiastes, which, you may remember, presents to us “life under the sun;” a doleful book perhaps, but, as we know, very correct and true. “All,” says the preacher, “is vanity and vexation of spirit.”
1. Destitution. Poverty, need, want! Is this not the case with the greater part of our neighbors? Affluence is the exception – pecuniary trial is the common rule. Few are born to ease and wealth; the most, by far, have to face the battle.
But whence this trial? It results from sin. I do not speak of the effects of any particular course of evil, but of the general and undeniable fact. Sin is the parent of destitution. Had there been no sin, there would, certainly, have been no want.
Eden was a right wealthy place! Its furnishing was worthy of that generous Creator who had arranged it, as the palace of His intelligent creatures; but sin deranged everything – and Cain became a fugitive and a vagabond – and so we find abundant witness, in each day’s life, of the impoverishing effects of sin.
2. Drudgery. Yes, downright slavery! Mammon is the hardest taskmaster, though willingly served. But from morning to night, from Monday to Saturday, the wheel must revolve. Toil, labor, drudgery, all the time; and that just to obtain the bread that perisheth.
Yes, thorns and thistles and weeds abundant; and thus man, once noble, now reduced indeed, has perforce to keep at his treadmill, little better than a mere beast of burden!
Distinguish, my reader, between slavery of this kind, and the healthy bracing work for which we were made. The opposite of drudgery is not idleness, nor sloth. God never meant inactivity, neither did He mean a state of slavedom. This is the outcome of sin; nor can things be mended. All I say is, that, in this lamentably abnormal existence of ours, work has degenerated into drudgery, and man into a slave.
3. Death. On this head it is really unnecessary to dwell. Yet, fact though it be, we are prone to view death more as a misfortune than as a judgment.
A clever medical man once said to me, “Life is just a perpetual struggle against death.” And so it is. That struggle may be maintained vigorously for long; yet the gradual encroachment of the enemy is evident – the wrinkle, the furrow, the turning hair, all tell of the ultimate success of the foe. That “we may eat it, and die,” said the widow. She said not that “we may eat, and live!” Nay, the food we eat is just the price we pay to keep death off. Yet the intruder will not thus be always bribed.
O! melancholy picture, dreary tale! What a dark history is that of sin! Destitution, drudgery, and death, ring their weary change on the ear that pauses to listen to the solemn voices that break around us.
What a wonder it is, that such a cadence should not drive the poor weary heart away in quest of another region than the present. Thank God that region exists! The ear of faith may hearken to its call. How appropriate the sweet invitation of Him who, while He was uttering it, felt in His soul all the sorrow of the present,
Rest! rest! rest! for conscience, heart, and mind. His blood can purge the conscience, His love can satisfy the heart, and His word can occupy the mind. While, if He calls us to serve, that service is one of liberty, and of present and eternal reward.
Weary one, come to Jesus.