Milo

July 14th

The account with persecution

But I say unto you, That ye resist not evil; but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also. Matthew 5:39, etc.

These verses reveal the humiliation of being a Christian. Naturally, if a man does not hit back, it is because he is a coward; but spiritually if a man does not hit back, it is a manifestation of the Son of God in him. When you are insulted, you must not only not resent it, but make it an occasion to exhibit the Son of God. You cannot imitate the disposition of Jesus; it is either there or it is not. To the saint personal insult becomes the occasion of revealing the incredible sweetness of the Lord Jesus.
The teaching of the Sermon on the Mount is not—Do your duty, but—Do what is not your duty. It is not your duty to go the second mile, to turn the other cheek, but Jesus says if we are His disciples, we shall always do these things. There will be no spirit of—‘Oh well, I cannot do any more, I have been so misrepresented and misunderstood.’ Every time I insist upon my rights, I hurt the Son of God; whereas I can prevent Jesus from being hurt if I take the blow myself. That is the meaning of filling up that which is behind of the afflictions of Christ. The disciple realizes that it is his Lord’s honour that is at stake in his life, not his own honour.
Never look for right in the other man, but never cease to be right yourself. We are always looking for justice; the teaching of the Sermon on the Mount is—Never look for justice, but never cease to give it.

July 14

“Bind the sacrifice with cords, even unto the horns of the altar.” (Psalm 118:27.)

IS not this altar inviting thee? Shall we not ask to be bound to it, that we may never be able to start back from our attitude of consecration? There are times when life is full of roseate light, and we choose the Cross; at other times, when the sky is grey, we shrink from it. It is well to be bound.
Wilt Thou bind us, most blessed Spirit, and enamor us with the Cross, and let us never leave it? Bind us with the scarlet cord of redemption, and the golden cord of love, and the silver cord of Advent-hope, so we will not go back from it, or wish for another lot than to be the humble partners with our Lord in His pain and sorrow!
The horns of the altar invite thee. Wilt thou come? Wilt thou dwell ever in a spirit of resigned humility, and give thy self wholly to the Lord?—Selected.
The story is told of a colored brother who, at a camp meeting, tried to give himself to God. Every night at the altar he consecrated himself; but every night before he left the meeting, the devil would come to him and convince him that he did not feel any different and therefore he was not consecrated.
Again and again he was beaten back by the adversary. Finally, one evening he came to the meeting with an axe and a big stake. After consecrating himself, he drove the stake into the ground just where he had knelt. As he was leaving the building, the devil came to him as usual and tried to make him believe that it was all a farce.
At once he went back to the stake and, pointing to it, said, “Look here, Mr. Devil, do you see that stake? Well, that’s my witness that God has forever accepted me.” Immediately the devil left him, and he had no further doubts on the subject.
—The Still Small Voice.
Beloved, if you are tempted to doubt the finality of your consecration, drive a stake down somewhere and let it be your witness before God and even the devil that you have settled the question forever.

Are you groping for a blessing,
  Never getting there?
Listen to a word in season,
  Get somewhere.

Are you struggling for salvation
  By your anxious prayer?
Stop your struggling, simply trust, and—
  Get somewhere.

Does the answer seem to linger
  To your earnest prayer?
Turn your praying into praise, and—
  Get somewhere.

You will never know His fulness
  Till you boldly dare
To commit your all to Him, and—
  Get somewhere.

—Songs of the Spirit.

14 JULY (VERSE 32 PREACHED 13 JULY 1777)

Drawn through the cross

‘And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all men unto me. This he said, signifying what death he should die.’ John 12:32–33
SUGGESTED FURTHER READING: John 6:35–51

If … I will draw all men unto me. On this clause a few remarks—much is implied in it:
(i) that men are by nature at a distance from God (for in drawing to himself he draws to God—there is no other way to the Father). We are far from the knowledge of God, from his love, from communion with him.
(ii) that men are unable to come to God of themselves—they must be drawn, as in Song of Solomon 1:4; unable in every sense, but especially because unwilling—their carnal hearts are enmity.
(iii) the knowledge of Christ crucified is the effectual and only effectual means to draw sinners to God. The heart will stand it out against every other motive and argument, but not against this, which is spiritually revealed.
(iv) multitudes who call themselves Christians, though they know as a fact that Christ was crucified, yet have not the knowledge of it aright, because they are not drawn to him.
(v) the Lord’s people are drawn, that is, made willing; they do not serve him by constraint. Their hearts are won by the display of love, wisdom and grace manifested in his lifting up upon the cross. This gives them right views of God, of sin, of themselves.
(vi) they whom Christ draws, he draws to himself. This precious promise looks not only to the beginning, but the accomplishment of the work. His love will persevere till it has drawn them safe through all dangers and difficulties and brought them home to his kingdom.

FOR MEDITATION: The expression all men denotes not all universally, but some of all sorts—not the Jews only, but Gentiles also—young and old, rich and poor, of many nations, in various circumstances—so that none who feel their need of him and look to him as lifted up, have reason to think themselves excluded. They are invited without exception, with an assurance that he will in no wise cast them out.

SERMON: JOHN 12:32–33 [2/2]

July 13th

The price of vision

In the year that king Uzziah died, I saw also the Lord. Isaiah 6:1.

Our soul’s history with God is frequently the history of the “passing of the hero.” Over and over again God has to remove our friends in order to bring Himself in their place, and that is where we faint and fail and get discouraged. Take it personally: In the year that the one who stood to me for all that God was, died—I gave up everything? I became ill? I got disheartened? or—I saw the Lord?
My vision of God depends upon the state of my character. Character determines revelation. Before I can say “I saw also the Lord,” there must be something corresponding to God in my character. Until I am born again and begin to see the Kingdom of God, I see along the line of my prejudices only; I need the surgical operation of external events and an internal purification.
It must be God first, God second, and God third, until the life is faced steadily with God and no one else is of any account whatever. “In all the world there is none but thee, my God, there is none but thee.”
Keep paying the price. Let God see that you are willing to live up to the vision.

July 13

“God … calleth those things which be not as though they were.” (Rom. 4:17.)

WHAT does that mean? Why Abraham did this thing: he dared to believe God. It seemed an impossibility at his age that Abraham should become the father of a child; it looked incredible; and yet God called him a “father of many nations” before there was a sign of a child; and so Abraham called himself “father” because God called him so. That is faith; it is to believe and assert what God says. “Faith steps on seeming void, and finds the rock beneath.”
Only say you have what God says you have, and He will make good to you all you believe. Only it must be real faith, all there is in you must go over in that act of faith to God.—Crumbs.
Be willing to live by believing and neither think nor desire to live in any other way. Be willing to see every outward light extinguished, to see the eclipse of every star in the blue heavens, leaving nothing but darkness and perils around, if God will only leave in thy soul the inner radiance, the pure bright lamp which faith has kindled.—Thomas C. Upham.
The moment has come when you must get off the perch of distrust, out of the nest of seeming safety, and onto the wings of faith; just such a time as comes to the bird when it must begin to try the air. It may seem as though you must drop to the earth; so it may seem to the fledgling. It, too, may feel very like falling; but it does not fall—it’s pinions give it support, or, if they fail, the parent birds sweeps under and bears it upon its wings. Even so will God bear you. Only trust Him; “thou shalt be holden up.” “Well, but,” you say, “am I to cast myself upon nothing?” That is what the bird seems to have to do; but we know the air is there, and the air is not so unsubstantial as it seems. And you know the promises of God are there, and they are not unsubstantial at all. “But it seems an unlikely thing to come about that my poor weak soul should be girded with such strength.” Has God said it shall? “That my tempted, yielding nature shall be victor in the strife.” Has God said it shall? “That my timorous, trembling heart shall find peace?” Has God said it shall? for, if He has, you surely do not mean to give Him the lie! Hath he spoken, and shall He not do it? If you have gotten a word—“a sure word” of promise—take it implicitly, trust it absolutely. And this sure word you have; nay, you have more—you have Him who speaks the word confidently. “Yea, I say unto you,” trust Him.
—J. B. Figgis, M. A.