Milo

September 15th

What to renounce

But have renounced the hidden things of dishonesty. 2 Cor. 4:2.

Have you “renounced the hidden things of dishonesty”—the things that your sense of honour will not allow to come to the light? You can easily hide them. Is there a thought in your heart about anyone which you would not like to be dragged into the light? Renounce it as soon as it springs up; renounce the whole thing until there is no hidden thing of dishonesty or craftiness about you. Envy, jealousy, strife—these things arise not necessarily from the disposition of sin, but from the make-up of your body which was used for this kind of thing in days gone by (see Romans 6:19 and 1 Peter 4:1–2 ): Maintain a continual watchfulness so that nothing of which you would be ashamed arises in your life.
“Not walking in craftiness,” that is, resorting to what will carry your point. This is a great snare. You know that God will only let you work in one way, then be careful never to catch people the other way; God’s blight will be upon you if you do. Others are doing things which to you would be walking in craftiness, but it may not be so with them; God has given you another standpoint. Never blunt the sense of your Utmost for His Highest. For you to do a certain thing would mean the incoming of craftiness for an end other than the highest, and the blunting of the motive God has given you. Many have gone back because they are afraid of looking at things from God’s stand-point. The crisis comes spiritually when a man has to emerge a bit farther on than the creed he has accepted.

September 15

“Blow upon my garden that the spices may flow out.” (S. of Sol. 4:16.)

SOME of the spices mentioned in this chapter are quite suggestive. The aloe was a bitter spice, and it tells of the sweetness of bitter things, the bitter-sweet, which has its own fine application that only those can understand who have felt it. The myrrh was used to embalm the dead, and it tells of death to something. It is the sweetness which comes to the heart after it has died to its self-will and pride and sin.
Oh, the inexpressible charm that hovers about some Christians simply because they bear upon the chastened countenance and mellow spirit the impress of the cross, the holy evidence of having died to something that was once proud and strong, but is now forever at the feet of Jesus. It is the heavenly charm of a broken spirit and a contrite heart, the music that springs from the minor key, the sweetness that comes from the touch of the frost upon the ripened fruit.
And then the frankincense was a fragrance that came from the touch of the fire. It was the burning powder that rose in clouds of sweetness from the bosom of the flames. It tells of the heart whose sweetness has been called forth, perhaps by the flames of affliction, until the holy place of the soul is filled with clouds of praise and prayer. Beloved, are we giving out the spices, the perfumes, the sweet odors of the heart?
—The Love-Life of Our Lord.
“A Persian fable says: One day
A wanderer found a lump of clay
So redolent of sweet perfume
Its odors scented all the room.
‘What are thou?’ was his quick demand,
‘Art thou some gem from Samarcand,
Or spikenard in this rude disguise,
Or other costly merchandise?’
‘Nay: I am but a lump of clay.’

“ ‘Then whence this wondrous perfume—say!’
‘Friend, if the secret I disclose,
I have been dwelling with the rose.’
Sweet parable! and will not those
Who love to dwell with Sharon’s rose,
Distil sweet odors all around,
Though low and mean themselves are found?
Dear Lord, abide with us that we
May draw our perfume fresh from, Thee.”

15 SEPTEMBER (PREACHED HARVEST 14 SEPTEMBER 1766)

The Lord, the Giver

‘For she did not know that I gave her corn, and wine, and oil, and multiplied her silver and gold, which they prepared for Baal.’ Hosea 2:8
SUGGESTED FURTHER READING: Psalm 65:1–13

It is the Lord that gives corn. How many plough and sow and reap without lifting up their hearts to him either in prayer or in praise. It is looked on as a thing of course. We think there is some necessary connection between sowing and reaping, but it all depends upon the Word and blessing of God who has appointed our provision to come this way. The clouds would drop down food for us as for Israel if the Lord should command, and without his command the earth could no more yield corn than the water. The dispensation of the weather is in his hand. He causes his sun to shine and sends his rain, and this he manages in such proportion that the end is generally answered. This likewise depends upon his promise, and mercy it was to make such a promise to those who are so unworthy of any good thing (Genesis 8:22). It is dangerous—who can tell how soon he may be provoked to punish? He commandeth the sun and it shineth not. He restraineth the rain. He has hailstorms and lightning at his beck. What havoc these have sometimes made in other places, we have heard. I am almost afraid to say what he can do, lest he should see fit to confirm the word by giving you a mournful proof that his ministers do not speak lightly of them when they warn you of the error of your ways.
FOR MEDITATION:
While I view the plenteous grain
Let the praise be all the Lord’s,
As it ripens on the stalk;
As the benefit is ours!
May I not instruction gain,
He, in seasons, still affords
Helpful, to my daily walk?
Kindly heat, and gentle flowers:
All this plenty of the field
By his care the produce thrives
Was produced from foreign seeds;
Waving o’er the furrowed lands;
For the earth itself would yield
And when harvest-time arrives,
Only crops of useless weeds.
Ready for the reaper stands.

SERMON: HOSEA 2:8 [2/2]

September 14th

Imagination v. inspiration

The simplicity that is in Christ. 2 Cor. 11:3.

Simplicity is the secret of seeing things clearly. A saint does not think clearly for a long while, but a saint ought to see clearly without any difficulty. You cannot think a spiritual muddle clear, you have to obey it clear. In intellectual matters you can think things out, but in spiritual matters you will think yourself into cotton wool. If there is something upon which God has put His pressure, obey in that matter, bring your imagination into captivity to the obedience of Christ with regard to it and everything will become as clear as daylight. The reasoning capacity comes afterwards, but we never see along that line, we see like children; when we try to be wise we see nothing (Matthew 11:25.).
The tiniest thing we allow in our lives that is not under the control of the Holy Spirit is quite sufficient to account for spiritual muddle, and all the thinking we like to spend on it will never make it clear. Spiritual muddle is only made plain by obedience. Immediately we obey, we discern. This is humiliating, because when we are muddled we know the reason is in the temper of our mind. When the natural power of vision is devoted to the Holy Spirit, it becomes the power of perceiving God’s will and the whole life is kept in simplicity.

September 14

“Whosoever will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me.” (Mark 8:34.)

THE cross which my Lord bids me take up and carry may assume different shapes. I may have to content myself with a lowly and narrow sphere, when I feel that I have capacities for much higher work. I may have to go on cultivating year after year, a field which seems to yield me no harvests whatsoever. I may be bidden to cherish kind and loving thoughts about someone who has wronged me—be bidden speak to him tenderly, and take his part against all who oppose him, and crown him with sympathy and succor. I may have to confess my Master amongst those who do not wish to be reminded of Him and His claims. I may be called to “move among my race, and show a glorious morning face,” when my heart is breaking.
There are many crosses, and every one of them is sore and heavy. None of them is likely to be sought out by me of my own accord. But never is Jesus so near me as when I lift my cross, and lay it submissively on my shoulder, and give it the welcome of a patient and unmurmuring spirit.
He draws close, to ripen my wisdom, to deepen my peace, to increase my courage, to augment my power to be of use to others, through the very experience which is so grievous and distressing, and then—as I read on the seal of one of those Scottish Covenanters whom Claverhouse imprisoned on the lonely Bass, with the sea surging and sobbing round—I grow under the load.—Alexander Smellie.

“Use your cross as a crutch to help you on, and not as a stumblingblock to cast you down.”
“You may others from sadness to gladness beguile,
If you carry your cross with a smile.”