Christian Warfare by Dr. Maclaren

Seventh-day Adventist Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Jun 22, 1882

Christian Warfare.

By Dr. Maclaren

No man that warreth entangleth himself with the affairs of this life; that he may please him who hath chosen him to be a soldier. 2 Tim. 2:4.

IN Paul's time there were no standing armies, but men were summoned from their ordinary avocations, and sent into the field. When the hasty call went forth, the plough was left in the furrow, and the web in the loom; the bridegroom hurried from his bride, and the mourner from the bier. All home industries were paralyzed while the manhood of the nation were in the field. That state of things suggests the language here. The word rendered "that warreth" might be more vividly translated, as the Revised Version has it, "on service"—the idea being that as long as a man is on a campaign, he can do nothing else but soldiering. When peace is proclaimed, he may go back to farm or merchandise; but in the field, he has but one thing to do—and that is to fight. He will scarcely win the general's good word on other terms.

Now it is to be noticed, that the parallel of the soldier on service and the Christian in his warfare, fails in this one respect: that the soldier had to abandon entirely all other occupation, even the most needful and praiseworthy, because he could not both do them and fight; but the abandonment of the affairs of this life is not necessary for us, because occupation with them is not incompatible with our Christian warfare. Nay, so far from that, these "affairs" furnish the very fields on which a large part of that warfare is to be waged. If these are abandoned, what is left to fight about? What is our Christian warfare, but the constant struggle with evil in ourselves, and temptation in the world; the constant effort to bring all the activities of our spirits and hands under the power of Christ's law, and to yield our whole selves, in heart, mind, will, and deed, to him? How then can that warfare be waged, and that ennobling self-surrender achieved, but by the heroic, patient effort to deal with all the affairs of this life in a Christ-like temper, and to Christ-pleasing ends? The Christian who abandons any of these is much nearer the frightened deserter who runs from his post, and may expect a stern rebuke, if nothing worse, than the faithful soldier, whose face will one day brighten beneath the smile of his chief.

We must put stress on that word "entangled," if we would rightly understand this saying. It is not occupation with the things of life, but entanglement in them, that is fatal to the possibility of pleasing the King. The metaphor is plain enough, and vivid enough. As some poor struggling fish in the meshes of a net vainly beats its silver scales off, and gasps out its life, and swims no more in the free deep; or as some panting forest creature is checked in its joyous bounding, and, tangled in the half-seen snares, only tightens the cords by its wild plunging; or as some strong swimmer is caught in the long, brown seaweed which clings to his limbs till it drags him under and drowns; so men are snared and caught and strangled by these multitudinous cords and filaments of earthly things.

We are not bound to abandon the affairs of this life, but we are called upon to prevent their interfering with our warfare. If we are caught in the thicket whilst we are pressing on to the fight, out with the bill-hooks and hew it down. It may be full of pretty peeps, where there are shade and singing birds; but if it stands in our way, it has to be grubbed up. "If thy right eye cause thee to stumble, pluck it out. It is better for thee."

But if you have to stand to your post, perilous though it be, lift your heart to Him who can neutralize the poison, and who will so pour health into the veins of his servants that, in the execution of his commands, "they shall take up serpents, and if they drink any deadly thing, it shall not hurt them." The affairs of this life must not entangle us; that is the one indispensable condition to pleasing him. That they may not, they must always be rigidly subordinated, and used as helps to our higher life. Sometimes, when they cannot be so used, they must be abandoned altogether. Each must settle that for himself. Only let us make it our one great purpose in life that, whether present or absent, we may be well-pleasing to him; and that single, lofty motive will breathe unity into our life, and giving us clear, sure insight into good and evil, will instruct us, by the instinct of hearts and wills tuned to harmony to his, to shun the evil and cleave strenuously to the good. So living, ever looking to his face to catch his smile as our highest reward, it will not be hard to give up anything that hinders the light of his countenance shining upon us. So surrendering, we may hope to be his obedient, and therefore in highest reality his victorious, soldiers. So fighting, we may possess in our hearts the assurance that his wonderful mercy accepts even our poor service as well-pleasing in his sight, and may lay ourselves down in peace on the field where we seem to ourselves to have borne ourselves so badly and been so often beaten, with the wondrous hope to keep us company in the grave, that when the triumph comes, and the King goes up as conqueror, we, even we, shall follow, and receive from his lips the praise, and from his face the smile, which make the highest heaven of reward for all Christ's soldiers.—Dr. Maclaren.