Milo

October 31

“Likewise also the Spirit helpeth our infirmities; for we know not what to pray for as we ought; but the Spirit itself maketh intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered. And he that searcheth the hearts knoweth what is the mind of the Spirit, because he maketh intercession for the saints according to the will of God.” (Romans 8:26, 27.)

THIS is the deep mystery of prayer. This is the delicate divine mechanism which words cannot interpret, and which theology cannot explain, but which the humblest believer knows even when he does not understand.
Oh, the burdens that we love to bear and cannot understand! Oh, the inarticulate out-reachings of our hearts for things we cannot comprehend! And yet we know they are an echo from the throne and a whisper from the heart of God. It is often a groan rather than a song, a burden rather than a buoyant wing. But it is a blessed burden, and it is a groan whose undertone is praise and unutterable joy. It is “a groaning which cannot be uttered.” We could not ourselves express it always, and sometimes we do not understand any more than that God is praying in us, for something that needs His touch and that He understands.
And so we can just pour out the fullness of our heart, the burden of our spirit, the sorrow that crushes us, and know that He hears, He loves, He understands, He receives; and He separates from our prayer all that is imperfect, ignorant and wrong, and presents the rest, with the incense of the great High Priest, before the throne on high; and our prayer is heard, accepted and answered in His name.—A. B. Simpson.
It is not necessary to be always speaking to God or always hearing from God, to have communion with Him; there is an inarticulate fellowship more sweet than words. The little child can sit all day long beside its busy mother and, although few words are spoken on either side, and both are busy, the one at his absorbing play, the other at her engrossing work, yet both are in perfect fellowship. He knows that she is there, and she knows that he is all right. So the saint and the Saviour can go on for hours in the silent fellowship of love, and he be busy about the most common things, and yet conscious that every little thing he does is touched with the complexion of His presence, and the sense of His approval and blessing.
And then, when pressed with burdens and troubles too complicated to put into words and too mysterious to tell or understand, how sweet it is to fall back into His blessed arms, and just sob out the sorrow that we cannot speak!—Selected.

31 OCTOBER

Breaking through prejudices

‘The same came to Jesus by night, and said unto him, Rabbi, we know that thou art a teacher come from God: for no man can do these miracles that thou doest, except God be with him.’ John 3:2
SUGGESTED FURTHER READING: Luke 11:14–28

Our Lord was indeed a teacher sent from God, and we who know his character are ready to wonder that he was not generally received. But his enemies who hated him had many plausible objections to discourage some from hearing and to divert others from attending to what he said. They rejected the supposed place of his birth, Nazareth, concerning which those who were not diligent to search out the truth might easily mistake, as his mother had lived there before he was born and returned while he was very young (John 7:52)—this stumbled Nathaniel for a season. They pretended that he broke the Sabbath. They urged the character and meanness of his followers, and so on. We may therefore wonder that Nicodemus could break through so many prejudices. We are here informed what prevailed on him—the works which Jesus did led him to think that, notwithstanding all his brethren could say, he must be an extraordinary person, for none could do such things except God was with him. He concluded that the works of Christ, such as to raise the dead, necessarily required a divine power. His enemies acknowledged them beyond the power of man, but would have thought he did them by the assistance of Satan. But this black, malicious charge was confuted by a single question. Is Satan divided against himself? How could the great enemy of mankind assist, if he had been able, in producing such wonderful acts of compassion and bounty? He concluded that as our Lord’s miracles were wrought in confirmation of his character and doctrine, God would not have owned him by his power unless his doctrine had been true, and he a teacher sent from him as he professed. We are to apply this reasoning to our known circumstances.
FOR MEDITATION:
Now my search is at an end,
JESUS, source of excellence!
Now my wishes rove no more!
All thy glorious love reveal!
Thus my moments I would spend,
Kingdoms shall not bribe me hence,
Love, and wonder, and adore:
While this happiness I feel.

SERMON: JOHN 3:1–2, NO. 2 [1/6]

October 30th

Faith

Without faith it is impossible to please Him. Hebrews 11:6.

Faith in antagonism to common sense is fanaticism, and common sense in antagonism to faith is rationalism. The life of faith brings the two into a right relation. Common sense is not faith, and faith is not common sense; they stand in the relation of the natural and the spiritual; of impulse and inspiration. Nothing Jesus Christ ever said is common sense, it is revelation sense, and it reaches the shores where common sense fails. Faith must be tried before the reality of faith is actual. “We know that all things work together for good,” then no matter what happens, the alchemy of God’s providence transfigures the ideal faith into actual reality. Faith always works on the personal line, the whole purpose of God being to see that the ideal faith is made real in His children. For every detail of the commonsense life, there is a revelation fact of God whereby we can prove in practical experience what we believe God to be. Faith is a tremendously active principle which always puts Jesus Christ first—‘Lord, Thou hast said so and so’ (e.g., Matthew 6:33), ‘it looks mad, but I am going to venture on Thy word.’ To turn head faith into a personal possession is a fight always, not sometimes. God brings us into circumstances in order to educate our faith, because the nature of faith is to make its object real. Until we know Jesus, God is a mere abstraction, we cannot have faith in Him; but immediately we hear Jesus say—“He that hath seen Me hath seen the Father,” we have something that is real, and faith is boundless. Faith is the whole man rightly related to God by the power of the Spirit of Jesus Christ.

October 30

“Let us run with patience.” (Heb. 12:1.)

TO run with patience is a very difficult thing. Running is apt to suggest the absence of patience, the eagerness to reach the goal. We commonly associate patience with lying down. We think of it as the angel that guards the couch of the invalid. Yet, I do not think the invalid’s patience the hardest to achieve.
There is a patience which I believe to be harder—the patience that can run. To lie down in the time of grief, to be quiet under the stroke of adverse fortune, implies a great strength; but I know of something that implies a strength greater still: It is the power to work under a stroke; to have a great weight at your heart and still to run; to have a deep anguish in your spirit and still perform the daily task. It is a Christlike thing!
Many of us would nurse our grief without crying if we were allowed to nurse it. The hard thing is that most of us are called to exercise our patience, not in bed, but in the street. We are called to bury our sorrows, not in lethargic quiescence, but in active service—in the exchange, in the workshop, in the hour of social intercourse, in the contribution to another’s joy. There is no burial of sorrow so difficult as that; it is the “running with patience.”
This was Thy patience, O Son of man! It was at once a waiting and a running—a waiting for the goal, and a doing of the lesser work meantime. I see Thee at Cana turning the water into wine lest the marriage feast should be clouded. I see Thee in the desert feeding a multitude with bread just to relieve, a temporary want. All, all the time, Thou wert bearing a mighty grief, unshared, unspoken. Men ask for a rainbow in the cloud; but I would ask more from Thee. I would be, in my cloud, myself a rainbow—a minister to others’ joy. My patience will be perfect when it can work in the vineyard.
—George Matheson.
“When all our hopes are gone,
’Tis well our hands must keep toiling on,
For others’ sake:
For strength to bear is found in duty done;
And he is best indeed who learns to make
The joy of others cure his own heartache.”

30 OCTOBER (PREACHED 4 OCTOBER 1767)

Help and hope for the helpless and hopeless

‘Because thou hast been my help, therefore in the shadow of thy wings will I rejoice.’ Psalm 63:7
SUGGESTED FURTHER READING: Psalm 9:1–20

In the shadow of thy wings will I rejoice. Experience should determine us to David’s determination. The wings refer either to the holy place or to the image of a hen over her young. And there to rejoice, considering his ability (Psalm 27:1 my light … my salvation … the strength of my life), and his constancy. He will not change. From hence consider the life of faith as safe (Psalm 9), pleasant, honourable—near the Lord. This is the gospel declaration: a tender of help and hope for the helpless and hopeless. How blind are sinners to put this from them. Who else can help you at death or judgement? This is a suitable meditation to take to the Lord’s table. Think of the help you have found—of the mercy seat between the cherubim. Offer your praise and make your vows.

Diary, 28 January 1776:
Ah! I feel my weakness; how much have I said and written concerning dependence and resignation, but alas! how hard, how impossible, to practise what I know and teach, any farther than thou art pleased to strengthen me. Lord I believe, help thou my unbelief.
FOR MEDITATION:
When first before his mercy-seat,
Like David, thou may’st comfort draw,
Thou didst to him thy all commit;
Saved from the bear’s and lion’s paw
He gave thee warrant, from that hour,
Goliath’s rage I may defy,
To trust his wisdom, love and power.
For GOD, my Saviour, still is nigh.

Did ever trouble yet befall,
He who has helped me hitherto,
And he refuse to hear thy call?
Will help me all my journey through;
And has he not his promise past,
And give me daily cause to raise
That thou shalt overcome at last?
New Ebenezers to his praise.

Though rough and thorny be the road, It leads thee home, apace, to GOD;
Then count thy present trials small, For heaven will make amends for all., 291

SERMON: PSALM 63:7 [2/2] [ALSO PREACHED 28 JAN. 1776 & 3 OCT. 1779]