Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Aug 14, 1879
CHOSEN VESSELS.
By Sarah Smiley
Parting words from Miss Sarah Smiley to Christian workers at the Home of Industry, on Saturday, February 15, 1879.
I FEEL like the little lad of whom we read in the Gospels, who had a very few loaves and a few small fishes—what were they among so many! I had only thought this afternoon of meeting a little circle of friends in a smaller room, and had only a little simple message. But I trust it may please God to bless it to some hungry or thirsty soul here.
There are a few precious words in the 9th chapter of Acts, that came to my mind when I was praying the Lord to give me a message for this afternoon. Verse 15: “The Lord said unto Ananias, go thy way: for he is a chosen vessel unto me to bear my name before the Gentiles, and kings, and the children of Israel.” A CHOSEN VESSEL! And so it is with you, dear friends: if God has called you to his service, you are chosen vessels,—chosen for the Lord. Chosen, not to live unto yourselves, but to bear the blessed name of Jesus before the world. Not in the way that Paul bore it, and yet to bear it as God may guide, to bear it to the rich and the poor, to the sinful and the suffering, to all classes and conditions of men. Not choosing your own vocation, but chosen by God to bear this blessed name. How all-important it is for us to get into the attitude where God may use us; so that there shall be the full consent of our will to his choice.
There is a precious passage in Isaiah bearing upon this. Chapter 64: 8: “But now, O Lord, thou art our Father; we are the clay, and thou our potter; and we all are the work of thy hand.” How fully and unconditionally the people came at that time, and put themselves into the Lord’s hand! Nothing can be more perfectly helpless than clay in the potter’s hand. It has no power to shape itself; everything depends on the potter’s choice and skill. “We are the clay, and thou our potter.” That is true, whether we give ourselves into the hands of God or not; it is always the relation which the soul bears to God. It is true, even while we are in rebellion against God. It is true of us while in the blessed process of reconciliation, and true throughout the whole of the glorious process and progress of redemption. If we do not put ourselves into his hands—if we think to keep this “free will” of ours, as we call it, we may find that the only freedom we have is to resist his blessed will and to mar ourselves,—to make ourselves vessels of wrath, which he will use in some way for his own name’s sake, but which will be cast aside as a potter’s vessel and be broken in pieces.
But God does not thus propose to use us. We are clearly told in Jeremiah that there is no absolute choice of any one to destruction. Our attitude changes the attitude of the unchanging God. According to our attitude before him does he put himself before us. How full of instruction are these verses, chapter 18: 6–10. God tells us plainly that he changes his plans according as we change ours. If, then, we see that it is to our interest and for God’s glory that in everything we should be as clay in his hands, what is the attitude that we must have? Perfect submission to God—surrender of our being entirely to him. If this is not done, it brings much harm to us subsequently as vessels for the Lord.
The first time I went to a potter’s house was in a very remote part of the Southern States. I do not know that what I witnessed there would be a fair sample of the ruder forms of pottery, but I judge it was. I had never seen a vessel shaped on the wheel before, and I asked the potter to let me see him make one. He took a little lump of clay, but instead of putting it immediately on the wheel, he took it in one hand and began to give it very heavy blows with his fist. I almost thought he was angry with the poor clay before him, and I said, “What are you doing with it? I thought you were going to make a vessel.” “So I am when I get it ready. I am getting the bubbles out of it. If I were to put it on the wheel as it is, it would be spoiled in a few moments. One of those little bubbles would mar all my work. So I beat it and beat it, and in this way get all the air out of it.”
Ah! I thought, so does God have to treat us. The great difficulty with us is those little bubbles of self-conceit, of our own self-will, and sometimes of our self-righteousness—something that, in the process of God’s work, would wonderfully mar it. So he has to deal with us severely; but he is not angry with the poor clay before him. He is not angry with us when he puts us through this process of adversity. He is only getting out of us all that would mar his blessed work. How wise it is, then, for us just to accept, with perfect simplicity, his will!
I can never forget the first time I heard a saying that originated with one whose name is well known to many—Alfred Cockman, whose last words were, “I am sweeping through the gates, washed in the blood of the Lamb!” A few weeks before his death he stated to a friend of mine that he thought his whole life had become a continual “Yes” to God’s dealings with him. Sometimes it was joy, sometimes it was trial and sorrow; but he had learned, whatsoever came, to recognize God’s hand in it and say, “Yes, Lord, yes!” So the sting was taken out of every sorrow; the Lord took him into his blessed hand to shape him.
When the process of reconciliation has begun, and God is going on with us in this wonderful process of redemption, seeking our full development, what does he do with us, his vessels? It seems to me that nothing could be more beautiful than the figure which the servant of God has chosen to show God’s work upon us. “We are the clay, and thou our potter.” With all the improvements that have gone on in other things, the choicest vessels are still shaped precisely as the prophet saw them shaped—upon the wheel. If we go to Minton’s Works, for example, and witness the formation of the choicest vessels, they are made exactly as they were in Jeremiah’s time. They are not made by machinery—some of the commoner kinds are—but the choicest things are not put into molds, they are emphatically the work of the potter’s hand. When the clay has been taken into the potter’s hands the process begins, and then the potter’s hand is everywhere. It is round about it, within it, without it, forming it, shaping it, widening it, or narrowing it; and his eye is continually upon it to see if it pleases him.
While watching the work and noticing the material, I put some questions as to what sort of clay they used. I was told that some of the very choicest preparations were made out of flint. They ground it, and out of the hardest stones they formed the best vessels. And so God takes some of the strongest wills, those who are the most rigid, firm and unyielding, breaks down their stubbornness and makes them his chosen vessels. Yesterday it was my sad and blessed privilege to give a last look upon the face of one whom none of us can ever see again on earth—that dear Christian worker, Mrs. Ranyard—whom God has blessed so wonderfully. I looked on that lovely face as it lay in death, and the death smile was so like the smile that I had seen it wear in life! I had never seen anything in life but gentleness and love upon her features; but in death, through the sweetness and the smile, one could see in those firmly pressed lips all the wonderful power of will there was behind it. If it had not been consecrated, what then? Many a will like that is moving through this world, a source of misery to others; but when yielded up to God, it is one of the choicest gifts that he can give us. The Potter knows how to subdue it. It may take a severe process, but I am sure we will let him do anything he chooses.
As we have sometimes looked at the poor shapeless clay in the pit, and have seen no beauty in it, and perhaps have seen it again in the rare beautiful vase that was an exquisite work of art, we remember that such is the difference between us as living our own lives, keeping ourselves in our own hands, and when we put ourselves into the hands of God. There is nothing lovely about us while we are living to self, but God takes us into his blessed hands and makes us his choice vessels. We become his workmanship to his praise.
We have sometimes known what it was to walk along the rough roads where the clay became a positive hindrance to us; but when the potter has taken it, it has become changed into some choice vessel, to be lifted to our lips as a cup to give us refreshment. This but feebly expresses the difference in our lives when living to ourselves and when living to God. In the one case we are a hindrance to every one that comes along our pathway, just clogging every homeward traveler. But when God has taken us and used us, we can carry refreshment to all, cheering them day by day.
But some may find that they have to go through a severer process than others. In those beautiful works I have mentioned, I lingered long in the room where the painting was done. After having seen the artist give the finishing touch to a choice vessel, I said, “Now that is all done, except, of course, that it has to go through the fire!” “Oh, no.” “Why,” I said, “your work is finished?” “Just for the present it is.” And then he explained that after it was burned and had passed through the furnace, nearly all the color was taken out of it. There would be just a little of the ground-work left, and the artist had to go over it again, putting in every single touch with just as much pains as before. Otherwise, he said, it would not be lasting. Never till I heard him say that, did I quite comprehend how it was in some of our life experiences. Every one of us who has passed through the furnace will understand all about the experience. When it came we supposed we were going to grow in grace; but instead of that, it took every grace out of us. We thought we were patient, and we found we were not. And so one grace after another that we trusted God had put into us, seemed to dissolve away. That is often the first result of trial. But God is just grounding all graces more deeply, taking out of us all our conceit about them, all our knowledge and consciousness of them, doing the work more thoroughly, engraving his beautiful patterns down out of sight of man, so that it should be a permanent basis for all those after touches which he shall put upon us, and which shall abide. Never let us be discouraged if the first result of trial seems to be the loss of our virtues and graces rather than the strengthening of them. The Lord always knows what he is about.
I do not know why I should speak so much about the furnace, because I believe it is our privilege to be very rejoicing Christians. But I believe, also, that we have come upon times when God will more and more try his people. How significant are the words of Peter—literally they should be read—“It is the time of judgment beginning at the house of God.” For we, God’s chosen vessels, constitute this “house of God,” as now representing him on the earth. And we must expect that these judgments that are by-and-by to fall upon the earth—but from which God has promised he will keep his own overcoming ones free—in some anticipatory form will come upon us. He will search us and try us, and see if there be any evil way in us, and take out of us everything that mars us as vessels for his use, and so fit us to bear his name effectually before the world that so greatly needs us.
Now let us look for a moment at some of the little things that mar our usefulness. If we have not been thoroughly transformed; if, when God is calling us, we draw back or are unfaithful, we cannot expect to be anything but poor leaky vessels. I often see those beautiful little jars and other vessels used so much now for ornaments, and when I have asked if they would hold water, the answer has always been, “They would not do for that, they have not been burned sufficiently.” It may be that there are some Christians who attract the eye and yet cannot do the work that God wishes them to do. God may fill them with his Spirit, but it passes away; they have never been sufficiently chastened by God to become effectual holders of the blessed truth committed to their trust.
Again, it seems as if many of the vessels the Lord deigns to use were like those we have seen sometimes in traveling and in some homes, where all the dishes seem to get “nicked,”—not broken or cast aside, but all the edges nicked. They have answered the purpose, though not so pleasant to the eye. We do not like to have the nicked side come next to our lips. How many a blessed draught may be refused because it is put into a nicked cup. We want not only to be full of power, but to bear it in a befitting way, so that the cup itself shall correspond to the joyous wine of refreshment which God sees fit to put into us. Another truth is very beautifully conveyed.58to us in Numbers 19: 15, “And every open vessel which hath no covering bound upon it is unclean.” It was on account of the presence of death that this was spoken. Everything that came in contact with death in any form became unclean. So we live in an atmosphere of death, in a world that lieth in the wicked one, amongst those who are dead in trespasses and sins. And as the open vessel when it was exposed to the air was sure to contract impurity, so we must have something to come between us and the world; we must be covered from its corrupting power. All our greatest dangers come from the atmosphere that surrounds us. Nearly all the skepticism that is making its way in this country and across the sea, comes—so to speak—from the atmosphere more than from the direct touch. It has got into our literature, and pervades so much of the conversation we hear, that unless we are covered with the power of God, and unless the covering be bound upon the vessels—our life hid with Christ in God—the subtle, corrupting influence will be sure to get into our hearts, and the vessel will become unclean.
One other thing connected with these vessels is that the choicest ones do not always get the most common use. In a great house some cups are on the table every day; but there are some that only come out on occasions. We recognize the fitness of this, and I believe it is so in the great house of our God. The vessels that are only sometimes used, and for great purposes, are as truly doing the will of God when waiting as though they were restlessly working. It is a truth that needs great care in its application, and yet it seems to be clearly taught by God’s way of working with us. I shall never forget when I returned to America, after my first visit to this country about ten years ago, how I felt, so flat, and empty, and useless, that a fear came into my heart that God was setting me aside. A dear friend wrote from your land, sending me this little message: “The wine cup or glass when it has been used and washed is turned upside down and set upon a shelf, but it is just as valuable as it ever was. It is not cast aside because it is not at that moment used.” So I felt like the poor, empty glass, turned upside down, as it were, left to wait and rest a little while; not cast aside at all, but waiting till He should find something to fill the poor glass again. So there may be moments in our lives when we have to turn aside to rest awhile. And my figure does not hold good perfectly,—the analogy fails here,—for I am sure that such a time of rest and being alone with God is the most profitable. It is a time when the vessel may not exactly be put to the lips of any one to refresh them with a cooling draught, but it may be a time when the vessel is being more effectually cleansed, and then to be filled and filled to overflowing; until, wherever it goes, it is always ready to give refreshment to others, in bearing about the blessed name of Jesus.
Now, dear friends, we do not exactly know each other here to-day, but God knows all our hearts. May it be that as he looks down on us, he is saying, “Chosen vessels”; she is a chosen vessel to bear my name; he is a chosen vessel to bear my name. What have we been bearing? Let us remember it is JESUS’ NAME. It is not earthly aid merely, not merely comfort or relief from suffering, but the name of Jesus. If we do our service rightly, though it be only giving a garment to some shivering person, or putting a crumb of bread into some poor hungry mouth, along with that must go something of the name of Jesus. We act as the representatives of the Lord Jesus, and if we have done these things in love, then that is the name of Jesus, for his name is Love. And we have thus passed on a little of that blessed name—commended him unto those who thus know the Master’s love by what his servants do.
Let, then, our uppermost thought be this: in word or deed, eating or drinking, or whatsoever we do, do it in the name of the Lord Jesus. Oh, may we realize what that name is more and more—that wondrous name, and all that it means. His cross, his blood, his resurrection, his intercession, all that is included in the dear name of Jesus—never to be told throughout eternity. And then the name of the Holy Spirit, Sanctifier, Comforter, and Teacher, may we bear that name, and never forget any of the names,—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, having them dwelling in our hearts so richly by faith, that we may be always “filled with the Spirit.”—God’s chosen vessels, bearing his blessed name wherever he shall lead us.
A SONG OF CHEER.
By Marianne Farningham
Over the mists of the wintry sea,
A message of gladness is sent to me,
And I pass it on to my friends to-night,
This message written in words of light;
Though dense is the darkness in which we stand,
“The night is far spent, the day is at hand.”
Like figures uncertain we grope about
In dangerous places in fog and death:
In vain we long for a shelter warm
From the chilling sleet and the driving storm,
But “Be ye patient,” is God’s command,
“The night is far spent, the day is at hand.”
Men’s hearts, like the autumn leaves, are cast
Hither and thither by sorrow’s blast,
The air is heavy with want and woe,
And the fierce war tidings we shrink to know,
And a cry of sadness rings through the land,
Yet, “The night is far spent, the day is at hand.”
It is always the darkest before break of day
Drives the shades of the night away,
The silence is deepest before the song
Bursts into joyousness, loud and long;
And though in the stillness of night we stand,
“The night is far spent, the day is at hand.”
E’en now as we wait in the shadows dim,
The angels are singing the Advent hymn;
Faintly we hear it across the snow,
The good, glad anthem of long ago,
And we say as we think of the shining band,
“The night is far spent, the day is at hand.”
For Christ is coming, the world’s true light!
And he will banish the mist of night;
Do not our troubles prepare his way?
And the night make ready for his great day?
Oh, let the joy-song peal through the land,
“The night is far spent, the day is at hand.”
Let us go to meet it! How? or where?
Nay, little it matters, we need not care;
The skies may be starry with many a gem
As over the fields of Bethlehem,
Or we in the shadows of death may stand
When “the night is far spent, the day is at hand.”
All shall be well in the happy morn
When we see His face, the once lowly born,
And glad is the message that comes to me,
Out of the mists of the wintry sea;
For a Star of Hope is above the land.
“The night is far spent, the day is at hand.”
—Marianne Farningham.
“FATHER, FORGIVE THEM.”
By A. Smith
As Jesus hung upon the cross, he prayed that his murderers might be forgiven. The Son of God never uttered a petition in behalf of man that the Father could not in justice grant as desired.
The prayer, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do,” stands as a monument of the forgiving tenderness of Christ in the midst of the aggravating taunts and excruciating agony of the crucifixion.
Did this touching petition secure for those who clamored for his blood the remittance of the guilt of murder? No; for they knew that he was a just and innocent person, and both Peter and Stephen afterward charged them with this crime, from which they might be freed only through repentance. Was it for the Roman soldiers that he prayed? Not exclusively; they were only doing what they were compelled to do in the execution of the sentence of the law. If they caused the Saviour, as a man, needless suffering, they incurred a guilt that was not covered by this prayer.
The ignorance of Christ’s murderers consisted in their not understanding his exalted character; and his almost inimitable prayer was doubtless that they might not be held accountable for his murder as the divine Son of God, from which guilt, knowingly incurred, divine justice could never have absolved them, while at the same time they were held accountable for the murder of an innocent man giving evidence that he was a prophet of God. Had not Christ prayed that this sin of ignorance might not be laid to their charge, we know not but that God would have made a fearful example of the murderers of his Son. The utterance of this petition from Calvary confirms the supposition that there might have been danger to them.
It cannot, in reason, be supposed that either Christ or his people, who are required to copy his forgiving spirit, by such a prayer should be understood to desire a surrender of the principles of God’s holy law to the impulses of pity contrary to the provisions of the gospel; though by the plan of redemption considerable margin is evidently left for the exercise of human clemency in case of personal wrongs. When Stephen was arraigned before the Sanhedrim, he charged that body with being guilty of enormous sins; yet when they were stoning him to death, he prayed that the sin might not be laid to their charge.
This prayer of Stephen’s covered almost the same ground in principle as that of Christ, for he was engaged in the work of the gospel to which he had been called, when apprehended by the Sanhedrim, and was identified as a disciple of Christ in thus boldly denouncing their murderous sins, till in rage they violently put him to death. See Matt. 25:45.
The Jews were so blinded by Satan that they knew not that Jesus was the Messiah, nor that the gospel which they opposed in the person of Stephen was the only way of salvation for themselves. Justice would seemingly demand that the door of mercy be forever closed against the perpetrators of such a foul crime; but in answer to prayer their sin might be so far forgiven them that, through repentance, they could become followers of Jesus.
When Christians, as such, are misjudged and persecuted by slanderous reports or personal violence, believing that if facts were well understood opposition would disappear, how appropriate to utter the prayer that from the cross penetrated Heaven and returned as dew upon the moral sterility of the heart,—“Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” A. SMITH.
HEALED BY HIM.
By I. Sanborn
“He was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed.” Isa. 53:5.
This language of the prophet was written concerning the sufferings of our dear Saviour. It is difficult to conceive the degree of physical suffering, besides all the mental anguish, endured by the Son of God offered upon Calvary to provide atonement for the sins of the world. It would seem that his enemies exhausted all the depths of malice and cruelty to inflict physical torture and insolent abuse, while his soul was crushed down to the gates of death by the inconceivable weight of our sins. Forsaken by his friends, conducted through the mockery of a trial, derided, spit upon, scourged, and at last nailed to the rugged cross, his blood is poured out for the healing of the nations.
Scourging was a very common punishment among the Jews, in all ages of the nation. The law directed that the person to be beaten should lie down, and that the blows (which were never to be more than forty, though they might be any number less, according to the crime committed) should be applied to his back in the presence of the judge. Deut. 25:1–3. In later times the offender was tied by the hands to a low pillar, and stripped down to the waist. Cruelty invented, for its own gratification, a horrible whip, by fastening sharp iron points or pieces of lead to the end of the thongs. Among the Romans scourging was very severe, and was not limited to any number of blows. So cruel was the punishment that death sometimes took place under it.
The blessed Redeemer was cruelly beaten, till he became so weak that he was not able to carry his cross to Calvary. Luke 23:26. Thus exhausted and lacerated by cruel scourging, he is led like a lamb to the slaughter, and nailed to the cross. Thus was the dear Saviour bruised for our iniquities. In this way his soul was made an offering for sin.
Let the guilty transgressor remember that Jesus died that he might find pardon,—yes, endured such inconceivable suffering that he might be healed, cleansed from sin, and brought into a condition to keep all God’s holy commandments. Barnes says, “that we might be conformed to the law, or be obedient to its requirements.” For we know that the law is spiritual. Rom. 7:14. The carnal mind will always incline to transgress the law, because the carnal mind is enmity against God; for it is not subject to his law, neither indeed can be. Rom. 8:7. Then, according to Paul, those who are healed with Christ’s stripes and sufferings are brought into a condition to keep all God’s commandments.
Martin Luther agrees with Paul and Moses. “Wherefore Moses together with Paul doth necessarily drive us to Christ, through whom we are made doers of the law, and are not accounted guilty of any transgressions. How so? First, by forgiveness of sins and imputation of righteousness, because of our faith in Christ; secondly, by the gift of God in the Holy Ghost, which bringeth forth a new life and new notions in us, so that we may also do the law of God effectually. Now that which is not done is pardoned for Christ’s sake.”
Dear reader, remember that Jesus was wounded for our transgressions, and by his stripes we are healed; so that God can now be just in forgiving all who will come to him through Christ. Being thus cleansed from the effects of sin, the Holy Spirit will aid you in keeping all his commandments. Are you a stranger to the healing balm provided for the sin-sick soul? Oh, do not delay till your malady lead to eternal death; but adopt the prayer of the prophet,—“Heal me, O Lord, and I shall be healed: save me, and I shall be saved.” Jer. 17:14.
I. SANBORN.
The Day of Re-appearing: A Hymn Stanza
“The day of re-appearing! how it speeds!
He who is true and faithful speaks the word;
Then shall we ever be with those we love—
Then shall we be forever with the Lord;”
RUNNING THE RACE.
By E. H. Gates
I HAVE been reading the words of Paul in 1 Cor. 9:24–27, and I find in them much food for one who is striving for victory over a sinful nature. He says: “Know ye not that they which run in a race run all, but one receiveth the prize? So run that ye may obtain. And every man that striveth for the mastery is temperate in all things.”
Here Paul evidently refers to the Olympic or Pythic races, which were celebrated in Greece once in four years. Those who were to run in these races were trained in the schools from a very tender age. The regimen they were under was very strict and severe. Their food was plain, they were prohibited from the use of wine, and continence was enjoined upon them. But then, after those long years of training, and self-denial of appetites and passions, there was a chance to lose the prize. The competitor for the prize might put forth his best efforts, and yet another more fleet than he might reach the goal a little in advance of him. All that the runner obtained for his effort was a corruptible crown,—a simple wreath of laurels or wild olive. Paul continues, “Now they do it to obtain a corruptible crown; but we an incorruptible.”
In the races of which we have been speaking, all that self-denial was practiced to gain a crown that would fade in a few hours; but Paul says we do it,—that is, we put forth our best efforts, deny all ungodly lusts, all unholy passions, and are temperate in all things, to obtain a crown that will never fade. If those men could afford to spend years of self-denial to gain a little worldly honor, how much more can we afford to do the same to gain a crown that will shine through eternal ages, and which will, if we have been faithful in turning many to righteousness, be heavily studded with stars, each star representing a precious soul saved through our efforts.
In the Olympic races the runner might do his very best, and then fail; but not so with the runners in the heavenly race.
“I therefore so run, not as uncertainly; so fight I, not as one that beateth the air.” If we do our duty, there is no chance of losing the prize. It is not as in worldly enterprises. Men engage in those with much zeal and persevering energy, but are often compelled to see the labor of years amount to nothing.
In the Christian warfare we need not fear to invest our time, our talents, our means, our all; for a record of all these sacrifices is kept in the books in Heaven, and God will render an abundant reward. Have we labored hard, and invested much in God’s cause? then the prize will be proportionately great. Christ says, “My reward is with me, to give every man according as his work shall be.” He will also say, “Gather my saints together unto me; those that have made a covenant with me by sacrifice. And the heavens shall declare his righteousness; for God is judge himself.Ps. 50:5, 6.
The suffering, cross-bearing, burdened ones, will receive the reward. May God help us to lift the cross here, that we may wear the incorruptible crown hereafter.
E. H. GATES.
MISTS
By Eliza H. Morton
In the morning shadowy mists encircle the horizon; at noon white vapor veils the sun; and at evening gray fog settles over the world.
Oh, the mists of earth! how they hide the far-off hills! how they shut out the light of heaven! how they cover the beauty of the vales! how they chill these mortal frames!
“Be still and wait; the mists will rise ere long.” High above the clouds the great sun rolls on his course, and soon a dash of golden light will sprinkle the earth with brightness. The rising mists will return in cool, refreshing showers, causing the face of nature to smile, and all created beings to rejoice.
Take the lesson home, O sad repiner. Life is full of mists, and earth is “cloud-land.” The shadowy hand of poverty may be stretched over you; trials like banks of fog may rise before you; the fever vapor may enter your dwelling; and the still darker cloud of death may chill the hearts of loved ones: but remember that, though your path be darkened, the “Sun of Righteousness” is not blotted from the firmament. Far above, clear in its holy light, beams a “sunshine such as earth hath never known.” Your heart may yet grow warm beneath its influence, and your lips may yet sing songs of joy. The “tossing weariness,” the throbbing pain, the “fevers and frosts” of time are fitting you for a higher life. “Be still and wait; the mists will rise ere long.”
The heights of the eternal hills sparkle in celestial sunlight. Those golden beams will soon lighten the world, and your heart, purified by the damps of affliction, will find refuge “where no cloud mocks the trustful gaze, and no illusion cheats the groping hand.”
O ye tried and tempted ones, look up! look for the rising of the mists! look for the shining of the sun! look for the dawning of the day! “Sit ye down, ’mid the ruins of the human heart, and sing the song of hope, the song of the rebuilding and the joy.”
“For the children of this world are in their generation wiser than the children of light.”
A school-teacher, in the faithful discharge of her duties, chanced to give offense to a lady whose child needed discipline. The lady threatened loud and long what she would say to the teacher when opportunity should offer itself. The teacher, hearing of it, visited the offended lady, but said not a word about the “offense” she had innocently given; but with smiling face and kind words allayed the chafed feelings of the too willful and indulgent mother, who, taken by surprise, was too much pleased to speak of the imagined offense, and was ever afterward a firm friend of the teacher.
Had the teacher felt hurt at the lady’s threat, and visited her with a solemn face, and had she attempted a defense, the willful and imprudent mother would have been at once in her element, and the whole neighborhood would have been vocal with discord, and who knows what evil results might have followed?
Would it not be well for Christians, when injured, and misrepresented, and slandered, to do as this teacher did; that is, overlook the offense, and love and pity the offender, kindly treating them, not seeming to know that they had received abuse?
J. CLARKE.
PAUL'S SABBATH.
By Annie Teague
On what day did Paul rest? Many who desire to believe that the sanctity, blessing, and holiness of the Sabbath now attach to the first day of the week, will tell us that Paul was a devout and zealous apostle, inspired by Heaven to proclaim the truth fearlessly, and that while particularizing other commandments he did not speak of the fourth, but continually preached Christ and the resurrection; and from this they infer that in the mind of the great teacher, redemption was greater than creation, and the memorial of resurrection to be substituted for that of creation.
Let us consider the matter. Paul preached to both Jew and Gentile, repentance toward God and faith in Christ. When the Gentile was to be converted, what was he to do? Repent of his violation of God's law, and then believe in the Saviour. And every Gentile who had lived under the Jewish national laws, or where they were enforced upon others, necessarily knew about this law, as well as the Jew. What need, then, to emphasize to either Jew or Gentile what was so generally understood as the Sabbath commandment?
Paul had something new to tell them, glad tidings that the prophesied Saviour, the antitype of the ceremonial law, had fulfilled all things and redeemed them, and by his resurrection assured eternal life to all who believed on him. Necessarily he preached those things most which the people most neglected, and needed to be put in remembrance of. There is no inference of there being no longer a Sabbath, or of the day being changed. On the contrary, he gives it full recognition in his own language as still occupying its usual and time-honored place. See Acts 13:27. “Because they knew him not, nor yet the voices of the prophets which are read every Sabbath day.”
The apostle and his companions abode certain days in the city of Philippi, but on the Sabbath they went out of the city, and sat down by a river side where prayer was wont to be made. In Acts 17:2, we read that it was Paul's habit to go into the synagogues and reason with the Jews out of the Scriptures on the Sabbath days; also in Acts 18 it is stated that Paul abode in Corinth a year and six months, and wrought at tent-making with those of his craft, but “he reasoned in the synagogue every Sabbath, and persuaded the Jews and the Greeks.”
While we have no record that Paul ever disregarded God's holy day, we have evidence that he honored and observed it “according to the commandment.” As to Acts 20:7-13, and 1 Cor. 16:2, they show that he considered the first day of the week a secular day.