Individual Responsibility the Hope of the Church
By A. E. Place
This period which we call the week of prayer is set apart as a means to an end. The end sought is to help prepare a special people, by means of a special message, that they may meet God in peace “in a few more days.” The searchlight of prophecy is focused upon the very generation in which we live. Satan’s hosts are marshaled for their part in the closing drama. Our heavenly Commander and High Priest is soon to say for the last time, before the mercy seat, “My Father, my blood for that soul,” and lay off his priestly garments with the sad and awful words, “It is done.” With no uncertain tones these awful facts speak with a loud voice to this doomed world, and especially to those who profess to be the remnant: Examine thine account quickly. How much owest thou thy Lord? Prepare for thy final settlement. This week of prayer is designed not only to impress upon the minds of all that these stern realities will be reached sometime by some people, but that our hope of salvation depends largely upon believing that they are even now at hand, also in seriously considering the question, What is the condition of the remnant church of God to-day, and its prospects for being ready to meet the issue? This can only be considered safely or wisely from the standpoint that the church is made up of individual parts, and is the sum of all its parts. We must learn that the church does not, and indeed can not, go wrong, or, when wrong, get right, as a church. All the members of heaven might have looked on and condemned the marshaled hosts of Satan to this day, with all its additions in this evil world, and even in the professed church of God; and it would not have bettered the situation. But “the bright and Morning Star,” the most perfect of all, who might truthfully have said, They are wrong, I am right and am not responsible for the wrong and the present awful condition, cried, I am not only willing, but I do lay aside my beautiful, spotless garments; I bare my sacred head and breast to receive the sins of the world, and with the crushing weight of the load I will willingly die that I may free my people — my church — from sin and reproach. This is not only a divine truth and a divine principle, but it is a divine example, or object lesson, and without doubt given in a special manner for the church of to-day. “I am as good as they are,” has come to be an oft-repeated saying. The natural tendency is to hide our imperfections behind those of the church, with this conscience-quieting claim, and even to condemn in our brethren that which we harbor in our own lives. Though I may feel assured that I am as good as my brother, unless I feel confident that his platform is a safe one, I in that thing acknowledge that my own foundation is dangerous. The success of the church to-day does not depend upon some large organized goodness, but rather upon the goodness of each individual member. Likewise the failure or weakness of the church means the little or great failures or weaknesses in the lives of each individual member; and success can never come to the church until each member can lose sight of all weaknesses in the foundation of his brethren, till he thoroughly examines his own foundation and standing in the light of the judgment work in the sanctuary, and has the wrongs there found taken away. Even then he is not to take the throne to judge his weak brethren, but rather be willing, like “the bright Morning Star,” to bare his own head and breast, made clean by the blood of Christ, and willingly take and bear wrongs and reproaches that rightfully belong to others. He may be called upon to counsel and admonish, but let him do it as a brother, considering himself, lest he also be tempted. Then his strongest reproofs will be filled with the breath of yearning pity. Doubtless there are still lingering in each one of us weaknesses that must be removed if we pass the test. These may be so apparent as to be known not only by us, but by our friends and neighbors, or they may be known only between ourselves and God, or, perhaps, only by God. To those who do not sense a special need of the convicting and quickening power of God not only to get the victory over the known wrongs, but also to discover those still veiled in their lives; this week of prayer is a golden period, which can not be neglected or misused without eternal peril to their best interests. Each day of this period should hear the earnest plea, Search my heart, O my God, with thy lighted candle. Thou hast the key to each dark closet. For thy sake and for my own sake, O my Lord, leave not one door unopened. When I have idols occupying room which belongs to thee, tear them down, and cleanse and lighten the place by thy sacred presence. “The dearest idol I have known,
Whate’er that idol be,
Help me to tear it from thy throne,
And worship only Thee.” O Lord, let me not come into the judgment deceived as to my own standing in the records before thee. Show me my account, O Lord, while yet there is time for me to plead the merits of thy blood and thy precious life as my only means of settlement. Bring deep conviction into my soul now that I must meet God and my sins face to face, while there is opportunity for settlement. This is my heartfelt prayer for myself and for all my dear brethren and sisters, and I trust that every believing heart may be revived and inspired anew with the great and important truth that the need of the church to-day, and the only foundation upon which it can hope to build successfully, is personal examination of self, personal consecration, personal work and personal or individual responsibility in the body of Christ, not during this week of prayer alone, but till Jesus comes personally to save his church, not as a church only, but as individuals; for, bless God, his salvation will be as personal then as it has ever been. What a blessed privilege to be counted now and eternally as an integer, a component factor, in the great sum of divine sacrifice and salvation. May it spur us on to do faithfully our part in the closing work.