LOOK UNTO JESUS | AdventAI

Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Oct 2, 1879

LOOK UNTO JESUS.

He was despised and rejected of men; his life was sought for by Herod; he was tempted by Satan; hated by the world which he came to save; set at naught by his own people; called a deceiver and a dealer with the devil; was driven from place to place, and had not where to lay his head; betrayed by one disciple and forsaken by all the rest; falsely accused, spit upon, and scourged; set at naught by Herod and his men of war; given up by Pilate to the will of his enemies; and a murderer preferred before him; he was condemned to a most cruel and shameful death; was crucified between two thieves; was reviled in the midst of his torments; had gall and vinegar given him to drink; suffered a most bitter death, yet submitted with patience to the will of his Father.

We should take all things that befall us as coming from God’s providence, for our particular profit. And though they are evil in themselves, yet as he permits, or does not think fit to hinder them, they may be referred to him.

God no sooner discovers in our hearts an ardent desire of well-doing, and of submitting to his will, than he prepares for us occasions of trying our virtue; and therefore, confident of his love, we should receive cheerfully a medicine prepared by a physician that cannot be mistaken, and cannot give us anything but what will be for our good.

“And ye shall be hated of all men for my name’s sake; but he that endureth to the end shall be saved.” Matt. 10:22. It is absolutely necessary that we be first partakers of his sufferings, and then of his glory.

“The disciple is not above his master, nor the servant above his lord.” Matt. 10:24. He who keeps this saying in his heart will never complain of what he suffers, nor seek for any other way to save himself but by humiliation and the cross.—Sel.

“SAY IT.”—The Duke of Wellington often remarked that those gentlemen who had been trained in the business correspondence of the East India Company made the best diplomatic writers in the English service. They wrote clearly and precisely what needed to be said, and nothing more.

Dr. Nicholas Murray, famous twenty years ago for his pithy and effective style, used to tell with great glee how he acquired it. When he was a student in Williams College, he thought he could write well, and took a composition to Dr. Griffin, the president, expecting commendation for its eloquence. President Griffin glanced through the first sentence, and said, “Murray, what do you mean by this sentence?” He answered modestly, “I mean so and so, sir.” “Then say so, Murray;” and across line after line went the broad pen, erasing what Murray thought the most eloquent passages. Passing to other sentences, “Murray, what do you mean by this?” again asked the merciless critic. With a trembling voice the answer came, “Doctor, I mean so and so.” “Please just to say so,” was the quick reply.

When the reading was ended, the beautiful manuscript was spoiled, and the erased portions nearly equalled what was left unmarked. Dr. Murray always maintained that those simple words, “Say so,” made him a writer. —Youth’s Companion.