Milo

3 MAY

On the very brink of eternal ruin!

‘And they heard the voice of the LORD God walking in the garden in the cool of the day: and Adam and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the LORD God amongst the trees of the garden. And the LORD God called unto Adam, and said unto him, Where art thou?’ Genesis 3:8–9
SUGGESTED FURTHER READING: Joel 2:12–17

Though sin through its deceitfulness may appear pleasing in the commission, in the end it bites like a serpent. Guilt, shame and fear had seized our first parents, but what was past could not be recalled or undone.
(i) The Lord’s appearance. The expression is remarkable—the voice of the LORD God walking. Some think the word walking agrees with voice. They heard the voice or the word of the Lord, that is, he whose glorious and essential name is the Word of God. He who in the fullness of time was to put away their sin by the sacrifice of himself, was now coming to deal with them, not in judgement but in mercy.
(ii) The effect on them. They hid themselves. How great a change! Before, no doubt, his visits were welcome, but now they trembled, because they had sinned. They no longer deserved the knowledge of God. Thus it is with all their posterity. Instead of gaining an increase of knowledge, sin had made them so stupid that they thought to hide themselves from an all-seeing eye—at least it intimates the greatness of their terror. Thus when the Lord visits a sinner’s conscience, how fain would he hide, and seek a refuge in lies: ‘I am not so bad as others’ or, ‘I will be better’ and so on.
But the Lord calls, Adam where art thou? Why not joyful at my approach as formerly? Thus he speaks, not for information, but to bring them forth and to bring them to a confession. Where art thou? Alas, how fallen! Where art thou, sinner? Alas, under the curse of the law, in a state of enmity with God and, of course (if mercy prevent not) upon the very brink of eternal ruin.

FOR MEDITATION: I hardly feel any stronger proof of remaining depravity than in my having so faint a sense of the Amazing Grace that snatched me from ruin, that pardoned such enormous sins, preserved my life when I stood upon the brink of eternity and could only be preserved by miracle, and changed a disposition which seemed so incurably obstinate and given up to horrid wickedness. Well may I say, O to grace how great a debtor!

SERMON SERIES: GENESIS, NO. 9 [1/3], GENESIS 3:8–13

May 2nd

The passion of patience

Though it tarry, wait for it. Hab. 2:3.

Patience is not indifference; patience conveys the idea of an immensely strong rock withstanding all onslaughts. The vision of God is the source of patience, because it imparts a moral inspiration. Moses endured, not because he had an ideal of right and duty, but because he had a vision of God. He “endured, as seeing Him Who is invisible.” A man with the vision of God is not devoted to a cause or to any particular issue; he is devoted to God Himself. You always know when the vision is of God because of the inspiration that comes with it; things come with largeness and tonic to the life because everything is energized by God. If God gives you a time spiritually, as He gave His Son actually, of temptation in the wilderness, with no word from Himself at all, endure; and the power to endure is there because you see God.
“Though it tarry, wait for it.” The proof that we have the vision is that we are reaching out for more than we have grasped. It is a bad thing to be satisfied spiritually. “What shall I render unto the Lord?” said the Psalmist, “I will take the cup of salvation.” We are apt to look for satisfaction in ourselves—‘Now I have got the thing; now I am entirely sanctified; now I can endure.’ Instantly we are on the road to ruin. Our reach must exceed our grasp. “Not as though I had already attained, either were already perfect.” If we have only what we have experienced, we have nothing; if we have the inspiration of the vision of God, we have more than we can experience. Beware of the danger of relaxation spiritually.

May 2

“The Lord hath prepared his throne in the heavens; and his kingdom ruleth over all.” (Psa. 103:19)

SOME time since, in the early spring, I was going out at my door when round the corner came a blast of east wind—defiant and pitiless, fierce and withering—sending a cloud of dust before it.
I was just taking the latchkey from the door as I said, half impatiently, “I wish the wind would”—I was going to say change; but the word was checked, and the sentence was never finished.
As I went on my way, the incident became a parable to me. There came an angel holding out a key; and he said:
“My Master sends thee His love, and bids me give you this.”
“What is it?” I asked, wondering. “The key of the winds,” said the angel, and disappeared.
Now indeed should I be happy. I hurried away up into the heights whence the winds came, and stood amongst the caves. “I will have done with the east wind at any rate—and that shall plague us no more,” I cried; and calling in that friendless wind, I closed the door, and heard the echoes ringing in the hollow places. I turned the key triumphantly. “There,” I said, “now we have done with that.”
“What shall I choose in its place?” I asked myself, looking about me. “The south wind is pleasant”; and I thought of the lambs, and the young life on every hand, and the flowers that had begun to deck the hedgerows. But as I set the key within the door, it began to burn my hand.
“What am I doing?” I cried; “who knows what mischief I may bring about? How do I know what the fields want! Ten thousand things of ill may come of this foolish wish of mine.”
Bewildered and ashamed, I looked up and prayed that the Lord would send His angel yet again to take the key; and for my part I promised that I would never want to have it any more.
But lo, the Lord Himself stood by me. He reached His hand to take the key; and as I laid it down, I saw that it rested against the sacred wound-print.
It hurt me indeed that I could ever have murmured against anything wrought by Him who bare such sacred tokens of His love. Then He took the key and hung it on His girdle.
“Dost THOU keep the key of the winds?” I asked.
“I do, my child,” He answered graciously.
And lo, I looked again and there hung all the keys of all my life. He saw my look of amazement, and asked, “Didst thou not know, my child, that my kingdom ruleth over all?”
“Over all, my Lord!” I answered; “then it is not safe for me to murmur at anything?” Then did He lay His hand upon me tenderly. “My child,” He said, “thy only safety is, in everything, to love and trust and praise.”—Mark Guy Pearse.

2 MAY

His surpassing glory

‘For thus saith the LORD of hosts; Yet once, it is a little while, and I will shake the heavens, and the earth, and the sea, and the dry land; And I will shake all nations, and the desire of all nations shall come: and I will fill this house with glory, saith the LORD of hosts.’ Haggai 2:6–7
SUGGESTED FURTHER READING: Exodus 3:10–13

The Jews, on their return from the captivity, met with many discouragements in their attempts to rebuild the temple—not only from the opposition and arts of their enemies, who prevailed for a time to compel them to desist from their work, but from the comparison which some of the old men were led to make between the magnificence of the first temple and the expectation they formed of the utmost they should be able to perform in the building of the second (verse 3 compared with Ezra 3:12–13). In these circumstances the prophets Haggai and Zechariah were sent to animate the people by a promise that, mean and poor as the second temple might appear compared with the first, the glory of the latter house should be greater than that of the former. Had this depended upon a profusion of silver and gold, the Lord could have provided it. But the glory spoken of was of a different kind and would be abundantly verified by the personal appearance of the Messiah. His presence in the second temple would confer honour and glory upon it far surpassing the external pomp of the temple of Solomon, and would be attended with greater consequences than when he appeared on Mount Sinai. Then he only shook the earth, but under the latter temple he would shake the heavens and the earth, the sea and the dry land, to introduce the Messiah who should thus fill the house with his glory.

FOR MEDITATION: ‘I did not see a temple in the city, because the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are its temple. The city does not need the sun or the moon to shine on it, for the glory of God gives it light, and the Lamb is its lamp’ (Revelation 21:22–23, NIV).

SERMON SERIES: MESSIAH, NO. 3 [2/5], HAGGAI 2:6–7

May 1st

Insight not emotion

I have to lead my life in faith, without seeing Him. 2 Cor. 5:7. (Moffatt.)

For a time we are conscious of God’s attentions, then, when God begins to use us in His enterprises, we take on a pathetic look and talk of the trials and the difficulties, and all the time God is trying to make us do our duty as obscure people. None of us would be obscure spiritually if we could help it. Can we do our duty when God has shut up heaven? Some of us always want to be illuminated saints with golden haloes and the flush of inspiration, and to have the saints of God dealing with us all the time. A gilt-edged saint is no good, he is abnormal, unfit for daily life, and altogether unlike God. We are here as men and women, not as half-fledged angels, to do the work of the world, and to do it with an infinitely greater power to stand the turmoil because we have been born from above.
If we try to re-introduce the rare moments of inspiration, it is a sign that it is not God we want. We are making a fetish of the moments when God did come and speak, and insisting that He must do it again; whereas what God wants us to do is to walk by faith. How many of us have laid ourselves by, as it were, and said—‘I cannot do any more until God appears to me.’ He never will, and without any inspiration, without any sudden touch of God, we will have to get up. Then comes the surprise—‘Why, He was there all the time, and I never knew it!’ Never live for the rare moments, they are surprises. God will give us touches of inspiration when He sees we are not in danger of being led away by them. We must never make our moments of inspiration our standard; our standard is our duty.