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IN THE BORDER LAND

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Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Jul 3, 1900

FromReview and Herald, Vol. 77, No. 27.

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IN THE BORDER LAND.

By Uriah Smith

There is a border land to the kingdom of God. While in this border land, one is not in the kingdom; but he may be not far off. It is possible for one to be in the kingdom, even here, in the condition described by Paul in Col. 1:12, 13: “Giving thanks unto the Father, . . . who hath delivered us from the power of darkness, and hath translated us into the kingdom of his dear Son.” This is a good experience to have, and a good condition to be in.
But there is another condition which is well set forth by the words of Christ to the scribe, who, in conversation with him, made a statement that showed a profound acquaintance with the principles of the gospel, and to whom Christ said, “Thou art not far from the kingdom of God.” This man was not in the kingdom, though he was not far from it. This shows that there are different degrees of relationship to the kingdom. Some may be actually in it, as Paul declares: some may be far off: and some, as in the case here brought to view, not far from it; that is, near to it.
In some respects this may be an encouraging position, with hopeful prospects; but it is one full of responsibilities and dangers. It is a position that one should occupy, only for a moment, in passing. One should not be satisfied with it, and settle down, making it his abiding-place; for if one never goes beyond that position, if he never crosses the line, and so never becomes a member of the kingdom really, he might as well, so far as his eternal interests are concerned, have remained all the time “afar off.”
The case of this scribe, as disclosed by the narrative, is worthy of special notice, and serious meditation. Let us look at the circumstances as set forth in the narrative, in Mark 12:28–34: “And one of the scribes came, and having heard them reasoning together, and perceiving that he had answered them well, asked him, Which is the first commandment of all? And Jesus answered him, The first of all the commandments is, Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God is one Lord: and thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and with all thy strength: this is the first commandment. And the second is like, namely this, Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. There is none other commandment greater than these. And the scribe said unto him, Well, Master, thou hast said the truth: for there is one God; and there is none other but he: and to love him with all the heart, and with all the understanding, and with all the soul, and with all the strength, and to love his neighbor as himself, is more than all whole burnt offerings and sacrifices. And when Jesus saw that he answered discreetly, he said unto him, Thou art not far from the kingdom of God.”
Many noble characteristics are revealed in this statement. The young scribe was a man of a truthful spirit. He showed that he had read the law with attention, to be able thus to summarize the grand utterances of the prophets, which show that love to God and love to man are better than whole burnt offerings and sacrifices.
“The answer of Christ in verses 29–31,” says William Smith, D. D., “was the last lesson of positive doctrine that our Saviour taught in public. He had begun his ministry by declaring that he came to fulfill the law and the prophets, and closed it by announcing that love is the fulfilling of the law. Scarcely less interesting than the truth itself, is the effect it had on the hearers. The very scribe who had proposed the question, seeing the harmony of the answer with the Scripture, and catching a glimpse of the spiritual meaning, which all his learning had never given him before, was the first to confess the truth, in words worthy of being adopted as the Christian creed, and with a heartiness which called forth from Jesus the words, ‘Thou art not far from the kingdom of God.’ In this he intended no more and no less than the words themselves conveyed. Had he considered an earnest and moral striving, such as this man expressed, sufficient, he would have acknowledged him as not only near but as in the kingdom of God. He tells him, however, that he is on the way to it, because he was freed from the pharisaic delusion of righteousness by works, and knew the nature of genuine piety. He could, therefore, more readily be convinced of what he still lacked of the spirit of the law which he so well understood.”
We are led to form a favorable opinion of the man to whom these words were addressed. It is what was expressed in verses 32, 33, that drew from Christ this remarkable judgment; but this was not sufficient; that is, just to be near the kingdom of God, and not to be in it. Many characteristics this man had in his favor. He had great spiritual perception, and he spoke with great discretion, or it would not have called forth this commendation from the Lord. He was more than the Romanist, who makes everything of ceremonies; he was more than the doctrinalist, who puts the barren convictions of the head above the genuine transformations of the heart, and holiness of life; he was more than a moralist, who forgets that all service to be genuine must be prompted by love. He who is acquainted with the law, who sees the unity, spirituality, and breadth of its demands, is in a hopeful condition. Much more are they in a hopeful condition who perceive that their own love is far short of those demands, and who grieve on that account. “Blessed are they that mourn”—they who “hunger and thirst after righteousness.”
Other good things appear about this young man: he had a teachable spirit, and was willing to learn the truth, though the one who advocated it was unpopular. He knew that Christ was the object of opprobrium and censure from the members of his own class, the scribes and Pharisees; and he directed his inquiry with an evident desire to learn the truth, as is shown by the apparent readiness and gladness with which he received and acknowledged it. He not only showed a high regard for holy things, but a practical interest in them. But all this was not enough. He did not enter into the full privilege of the gospel. He did not commit himself to the truth by crossing the bridge, and burning it behind him. Bengel says, “If thou art near, and not afar off from, the kingdom, enter in; otherwise it were better that thou wert afar off all the time.”
With indifference and lukewarmness Christ is especially displeased. To the Laodicean he says, “I would thou wert cold or hot.” To live in this border land of the kingdom, this lukewarm, indifferent state, is a position of danger. One is not safe until he is not merely “not far from the kingdom,” but is actually in it; for there is no standing still. A state of hopefulness may be easily lost. The Laodicean feels very well contented where he is; and the danger is that he will be inclined to stop there, and never rouse himself to press forward and reach the goal.
From a consciousness of having made some attainments, it is easy to come to think that “greater are not necessary, and to grow proud and self-righteous. From simply being candid, we are in danger of becoming indifferent; and our probation may suddenly end before we have made our calling and election sure. How lamentable that so many who sometimes seem not far from the kingdom should never enter therein; that many whose cases seem so hopeful should stop short of saving faith, and be at last cast away.
To enter the kingdom of God is to become true Christians: first to understand, and then to obey habitually, the laws by which God endeavors to govern our hearts. A man is qualified to become a member of any earthly kingdom by acknowledging its government, and yielding willing obedience to its laws. So in the kingdom of God. There is a state of mind which fits a man to be a loyal subject to that government. To be Christlike, to acknowledge Christ’s person, to love him, to try to find out what he wishes, and to do it, in humble dependence on him,—this is to have entered the kingdom of God, in the sense in which Christ used the term, and to be an active citizen in support of his government.
And the words of the scripture before us remind us that there are approaches leading to this holy state. There are states of mind in which we are almost citizens of the household of God, but not quite; when we have not actually entered the kingdom of God, but are not far from it. And it seems from the language that there are vast differences among those who are not far from the kingdom. There are some who deserve credit for the progress they have made, and others who seem to deserve censure for having pushed no further along in the way of fellowship with the kingdom. The scribe to whom our Lord spoke, evidently belonged to the first class. He had done what so few of us, living in the full blaze of Christian light, are able to do; he had seen that religion is essentially an inward, spiritual thing, a thing of the heart, and that, however correct a man’s acts or belief may be, he is not a religious man, unless, with every power of his body, his intellect, and his soul, he loves God and his fellow men.
The deepest interest must ever attach to those utterances of Christ, in which he pronounced upon the moral and spiritual state of those who came before him. He knew what was in man. He speaks of his kingdom as a definite actuality. It is a distinct sphere, or region, with a frontier line marking it off from all else. Between the profession that the scribe made, and the gospel that Christ was offering, there was a sharp, intelligible boundary which he must cross, if he would pass from one to the other. But while this boundary is distinct and clear, it is evident that Christ recognizes every approach toward that kingdom. He does not look upon all as distant from God before they have obeyed his call and arrayed themselves as his disciples; wherever conscience is awake, wherever any man is cherishing the light, and is fearful lest by his unfaithfulness he should turn it into darkness, he is surely near, and is coming nearer, to the kingdom of God. “There is nothing more touching,” says Buckworth, “or more admirable, in the ministry of Christ, than his untiring outlook for what is hopeful in human nature.”
Still there was a higher state for this scribe to reach. He was on the verge of the kingdom, but still he was outside. He had not yet learned to love. When a man comes to realize that his weakness must be re-enforced by supernatural strength, and casts himself upon the Deliverer, who is mighty to save, then the passage takes place from the natural and earthly to the divine and heavenly; the boundary line is crossed, and he who was nigh no longer outside, but is within, the kingdom, and is a fellow citizen with the saints, and of the household of God.
C. H. Spurgeon remarks: “Among those who have turned out to be the most determined enemies of the gospel, are many who once were so near to conversion that it was a wonder that they avoided it. Such persons seem ever after to take vengeance upon the holy influence which had almost proved too much for them. Hence our fear for persons under gracious impressions; for if they do not now decide for God, they will become the more desperate in sin. That which is set in the sun, if it be not softened, will be hardened. I remember well a man who, under the influence of an earnest revivalist, was brought to his knees, to cry for mercy, in the presence of his wife and others; but never afterward would enter a place of worship, or pay attention toreligious conversation. He declared that his escape was so narrow that he would never run the risk again. Alas! that one should graze the gates of heaven, and yet drive on to hell.”
The following words are credited to a Christian minister: “When, after safely circumnavigating the globe, the ‘Royal Charter’ went to pieces in Moelfra Bay, on the coast of Wales, it was my melancholy duty to visit, and seek to comfort, the wife of the first officer, made by that calamity a widow. The ship had been telegraphed from Queenstown, and the lady was sitting in her parlor expecting her husband, with the table spread for the evening meal, when the messenger came to tell her he was drowned. Never can I forget the grief, so stricken and tearless, with which she wrung my hand as she said, ‘So near home, and yet lost!’ That seemed to me the most terrible of human sorrow. But, ah! that is nothing to the anguish which must wring the soul that is compelled to say, at last, ‘Once I was at the very gate of heaven, and had almost entered in; but now I am in hell.’ Agrippa said to Paul, ‘Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian.’”
“Almost can not avail; Almost is but to fail! Sad, sad, that bitter wail— Almost,—but lost!”
It is a trite saying that “to be almost saved is to be entirely lost;” but it will never lose its terrible truthfulness. — U. S.