Take: The Poor Man and the Rich Friend
There was a poor man, meanly and shabbily dressed. A friend, loving, rich, and great, paid all his debts, bade him leave his poor house, and come into his own beautiful home, and live with him. “All mine is thine,” he said; and he gave him rich clothing, that he might adorn himself, and the key of his coffer, that he might never want for gold. But it so happened that the man brought a little of his own money with him when he went to his great friend’s house, and he kept trading with that, and it made him very miserable, for he could never make it go far enough. He went again and again to his friend, telling him he wanted money for such and such a purpose. His friend loved to see him come, and he welcomed him gladly and graciously, and, though it was always with the same request, he never grew tired. He said, “Here is the gold in my coffer; take it and use it, for all mine is thine.” The poor man—poor every way, in the midst of boundless wealth—went to the coffer once or twice when in great extremities and timidly took away a small piece of gold, and it was marvelous what he was able to do with it; but generally he just stood and looked at it, thinking in his heart how thankful he was to be safe in his friend’s house; then he pulled out his own miserable little purse, counted over the worthless coins, and planned and toiled and vexed himself, trying to make the best of it. And yet when he was asked if he had entirely given up his past life, he answered, Yes—that he was now in his friend’s house forever; but still he kept his little money; and people outside wondered that where all was his own—such a friend and such boundless wealth—they heard that there always seemed to be something amiss with him, something wanting still. Sometimes they had thought of joining him; but they reflected that the life did not seem to answer altogether, and they fancied he was not so much better off than themselves. And the great friend looked with sorrow’s eyes of love, and often wondered how much longer it would be before the poor man would throw away the hateful purse that seemed to eclipse the coffers of gold, and come running with glad, joyful face to return his love by using the gifts he had supplied. Dear friend, may I ask if you know something of such a life as this—not in an earthly, but in a spiritual way? You are “bought with the price” of Christ’s blood; you know your sins to be pardoned, and yourself to be his, and yet you are in trouble. Your life is—how shall I say it?—unsatisfactory. In great trouble and trials you put your trust in God and rely upon him, and find that he does deliver you; but it is in the small, common things of every-day life that you fail. There is not that symmetry, that quietness, that patience, and gentleness, and self-forgetfulness in you which you know ought to be there as a tangible mark to yourself, to your family, and to the world, that you are truly a follower of Christ. The graces of Christianity, the “fruits of the Spirit,” do not shine in you. You are irritable, uncertain, dogmatic, harsh sometimes; giving way to indolence and ease. Your very relaxations and recreations you do not thoroughly enjoy; there is ever a “something still which prompts the eternal sigh” in your heart. In a word, you do not feel that you are pleasing God, nor that he is smiling upon you. You have within you the witness of the Holy Spirit that you belong to God; you have the witness that you desire to walk with him in all things according to his commandment. But you have not the witness that you “are mortifying the deeds of the flesh,” nor are you always sure that you are “led” by the Holy Spirit. The spirit in which you live is more “the spirit of bondage to fear” than “the spirit of adoption, crying, Abba, Father;” in which last two words there seems to me to be hid—nay, revealed—the utter confidence and hope to God, in God, which will carry us through all. But why is there this failure? How is it? Are there not, perhaps, two things needed, willingness to see and receive God’s way for us, and obedience to follow that way? In the little illustration (which, like almost all illustrations, is inadequate, and cannot be pushed to its furthest limits) the man had entered his rich friend’s house and was living with him; but he was not willing to give up everything of his own, nor was he willing to take everything of his friend’s. You have really given yourself to Christ, and know yourself to be his; but is there a something you are keeping back, and are not willing to surrender to him? If so, you are not honest, you are not wholehearted. In God’s loving command, “Give me thy heart,” is included life, hope, time, possessions, circumstances, will, all. You know he cannot rule, and govern, and lead you, if you are keeping a portion of your life away from him. Settle this point first; Are you willing to give up all, and follow his leading? Perhaps you say, “I am willing. There is not a thing I would not, and have not,35consecrated to him. Yet that is not enough; and I see in the lives of others a something, a power over sin, a power for good, of which I have no experience.” Have you ever thanked God that you are thus willing? We ask much; do not let us forget the thanks for what we have received. And then, having given all up, take the provision which God has ordained to supply your daily, momentary wants. And is not that provision the presence of God within us? Oh, poor, tired, unsatisfied soul, cannot this God—almighty, powerful, condescending, tender—cannot he satisfy you? Can not such a one as this supply all your need? When you have such a provision, why do you not use it? Him whom you have trusted to work in you to will, trust also to work in you to do; that is, simply to put the will into action. Do you say, “Ah, that is faith; faith is the gift of God, and I have not received that gift of faith. I must wait till it be given me?” And yet, when some great trial or trouble has been laid upon you, have you not trusted God, and has he not brought you through safely? And do you think he who is so merciful, and himself tells us that “he knoweth our frame,” and that “he remembers we are dust,” will he give a large supply of faith for a large need, and will he withhold a small supply for a small need? Will you look once more at the illustration above? There was a great supply of gold ready for the poor man’s use, but he did not take it. Why do you not take the “gift” that God has for you? Faith is the gift of God; but is not a gift a free thing. God does not say that faith is his gift because he will not give it to us; but he tells us it is his gift, that we may take it from his kind and gracious hand. Well, then, there was also the reason why the man did not take his rich friend’s money. He had a few poor little moneys of his own; and although he had left his own house, he was still trading with them. Are you, perhaps, still trading with something of your own? Are you trading with your strong desires, with your little faith? or have you brought your very unbelief, and poured it out on that heart, tender as a mother’s to comfort, and yet the strength of Israel in war and battle, and left it there, refusing to look at it again, to think of it even, and taking in its place, not resolution, not even faith, but God himself? You are willing; be obedient. Unbelief and doubt is a great sin. It is not your misfortune; it is not a trial from God, but a sin; and we are just as wrong to parley with unbelief as if we were to parley with thieving or hatred. Put it right away. “Let God be true, and every man a liar.” How endless, how fathomless, are the promises he has given us! They just meet our wants and desires, and are full of promise and hope; but are they also full of fulfilment? So long as you look at yourself, at your unbelief, your want of faith, they will not be. So long as you look to God, to the One who can do all, they will be hourly and daily fulfilled in you and for you. Do not be always thinking of what you cannot do; think instead of all that God can and will do for you and in you. He can do all that you find so impossible, all that Satan is longing, trying, to stop you from doing. Very likely you will find it a mighty effort at first to look away from yourself, or, in other words, away from the impossibility of things; but trust the effort to God, and the blessed Holy Spirit will gently guide you even into “all truth,” “into all things,” and will glorify Jesus in your soul. Oh, be gentle and obedient, and God will “guide you with his eye!” Are you fearful about the life that lies before you? You have nothing to do with that; it is in the safe hands of Jesus. All you have to do is this. Are you willing to trust him for this present moment? Then trust him; live on him; spend this moment with Jesus. Don’t think about the long days which may or may not be before you; they are not yours yet. Take this one day. Will you not for this one day, or what yet remains of it, look straight to Christ throughout it? Give your unbelief, your expectations, to him. Leave them, and occupy yourself with himself. You need not be always analyzing your life, and fretting within. Having put yourself into God’s hands, leave yourself there; and, as it rises, bring all to him—your ambition, your desires, your ideas, your hopes, your fears. They do not need to be crushed out of you, but to be brought to Christ, that he may sanctify them and put them in their right channel, that is, show you how to use them for his service. Just live in the sunshine and pleasure of his presence. You know how searching the bright sun-rays are; so will the Sun of Righteousness and love search in your heart, and under his beams it will grow tender—“a heart of flesh, and not of stone;” quick to see, quick to obey. When we walk in this world’s sunlight, we need to look at the way and at our feet to see that they go right, and keep from stumbling; but with the Sun of Righteousness we just need to look at him; and so looking he will take care that we neither stumble nor fall. “Mine eyes are ever toward the Lord; for he it is that shall pluck my feet out of the net.” You do not know what a life is before you. Do not be afraid if you get a sudden glimpse at your own utter vileness and sinfulness. Carry it to the Lord Jesus; he knows it better than you do; and leave it with him, just as you leave your unbelief with him; and looking only, only to him, you will receive life moment by moment from him, and live it moment by moment with him. He who is love will lead you gently on over any rough, stony places that may be before you—gently, because close to him—“I in you, and ye in me;” and the Holy Spirit will show you many things, “as you are able to bear them;” and surely, yielded up and obediently following, his “fruits—love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance,” will appear in us, to glorify God, and bear testimony for Jesus. Let it be thus. Let us take the good gift of faith. You know it says, “Taking the shield of faith.”—Author of “How to Enter into Rest.”