Our Nazareth | AdventAI

Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Nov 3, 1874

Our Nazareth.

A WORD TO THE SISTERS.

It is a temptation common to woman, to chafe under the routine of our petty cares; to believe that because we are tied down to this daily plodding of domestic duty our lives are of no high utility to ourselves or others. We are apt to look on those who have money enough to hire their work done, or who, from other circumstances, have leisure for personal improvement, or even for doing good, with a sort of envy. Their freedom begets in us discontent; we almost feel sometimes that God is partial, and in his sovereign pleasure favors some of his children more than others. But if we look carefully, dear sisters, we shall conclude that the favor, if it exists, is on our side. Did you ever think in this connection of the early life of Christ on earth? Did he not spend thirty years of that wonderful human existence in the obscurity of Nazareth, subject to earthly parents, and in the homely toil of the carpenter? Why were those years thus spent if not to teach us that hard, dull work is not beneath the dignity of the noblest soul, or inconsistent with the highest aspirations?

There is purpose in the Providence which assigns us to a humble place on earth, and a toilsome lot. God means something when he pins us down to vexatious cares, and a wearisome routine. He means it not for crushing, but for uplifting. It is not neglect because we are worthless, but education, because he discerns in us the germs of usefulness. Christ's life at Nazareth had its purpose. It was a preparation, that thirty years of obscurity and labor, for the three years when he was to vindicate himself and his mission. In the language of another, “Every day at Nazareth meant strength, wisdom, patience;” for though Lord of all,—the everlasting Father—yet in his human nature, as a Son, he was to learn obedience by the things he suffered. So, mother, every day in your nursery; so, humble house-keeper, every day in your kitchen; so, weary sewing-girl, every day in the work-room, means for you, strength, wisdom, patience. We all have our Nazareth; let us endure it as Jesus did his, without a murmur, anointed with the oil of gladness above our fellows. Let every duty, however trivial or menial, be done “as to the Lord,” and we shall come out by-and-by into the full liberty of that higher calling for which he is preparing us.

Do you reply, “No; there is no higher calling for me, I shall live and die probably just here. Have not thousands departed and pined as I do for more liberty of life and never reached it? for a higher usefulness, and yet it was denied them?” But consider again. Is life to end with this mortal existence? True, you may never be let loose on this side the grave. You may never be called from your cooking, your sewing, or your baby-tending, to perform any illustrious mission in this world. But do you know, can you form any idea of what God means you for in the other? He may be fitting you by just this Nazareth life for a future service more noble than you can conceive. The meek and wise and patient and strong he will employ in carrying out his designs of love and mercy in the universe, in fulfilling his sovereign behests; and the discipline to which he appoints you here, is just the preparation needed, that he may choose and use you in this heavenly mission work. Bow to it then. Take his yoke upon you. Be willing to stand contentedly in your lot, to do what God sets for you, with a patient, loving, obedient spirit. “The disciple is not above his master, nor the servant above his lord.” Our Nazareth is not what Christ’s was; and if he could endure, cannot we?

Patient in hope! This is a good motto for us, sisters, when tired and disheartened, disgusted with our low, grovelling pursuits, so seemingly unworthy, yet so imperative. Patient in hope! We may look with joy to the hour of greater liberty, but in the mean time let us get all the strength, patience, and wisdom possible out of the present.—Sel.