Seventh-day Adventist Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Mar 16, 1882
General Articles.
By Ellen G. White
Sanctification Through Obedience to the Truth.
BY MRS. E. G. WHITE.
CHRIST prayed for his disciples, "Sanctify them through thy truth. Thy word is truth." In every age, God has committed to his people some special truth which is directly opposed to the desires and purposes of the natural heart. It is no argument against the truth, that there are few ready to accept it. The word of God was received with little favor when priests and people, Pharisees and publicans, listened to the divine Teacher.
Christ brought to men truths glowing with the light of Heaven, showing in contrast the darkness of error and revealing the superstition, self-righteousness, and bigotry of that age. His heart overflowed with sympathy for the poor, the ignorant, the afflicted, and the fallen. He healed the sick, comforted the desponding, cast out devils, raised the dead, and made known to all the words of eternal life. The priests and elders, who professed to be the expositors of divine truth, were sending forth no rays of heavenly light to a benighted people. In their self-righteousness they held themselves aloof from those who most needed help. When One came to do the work which they had left undone, they felt that his life was a constant rebuke to them; and they feared that he would turn the people from their teachings. Their hearts were filled with pride, love of ostentation, and desire for praise. They despised Christ's humility and self-denial. They hated the purity while they feared the power of his teachings. They refused to accept him themselves, and bent all their energies to hinder others. Against these professed leaders of the Jewish people, Christ brings the terrible accusation, "Ye have taken away the key of knowledge. Ye entered not in yourselves, and them that were entering in ye hindered."
Reformers of the present time will meet with the same discouragements as did their Master. Men are no more favorable to Bible simplicity or to practical godliness than in Christ's day. Few accepted the world's Redeemer; few will now accept the message of his servants. Though the multitude eagerly flocked around him to receive temporal blessings, yet Christ sadly declares, "Ye will not come to me that ye might have life." Thus the mass of mankind are to-day seeking earthly good, to the neglect of eternal riches.
When Christ was upon earth, frowning priests and angry rulers threatened the people with exclusion from the synagogue, and thus kept many from hearing the great Teacher. To-day the so-called "orthodox" ministers by similar threats deter their hearers from listening to the words of Christ's ambassadors. Many fear even to study the word of God for themselves, lest they shall be convinced. Young persons who find no attractions in the Bible, and who have never searched its pages, will, parrot-like, repeat the sayings of opposers to the truth. They imagine that it savors of manly independence to talk of having a mind of their own, when in fact they merely echo the opinions and sentiments of others. What the minister says in the desk, against the truth, is greedily devoured by those who love to have it so, and his assumptions, though wholly destitute of Scripture proof, are repeated as conclusive evidence.
Those words of inspiration are even more applicable to-day than when first uttered: "The prophets prophesy falsely, and the priests bear rule by their means; and my people love to have it so. And what will ye do in the end thereof?" A solemn question indeed; but how few give heed to it.
Christ says of the people in his day, "For this people's heart is waxed gross, and their ears are dull of hearing, and their eyes they have closed; lest at any time they should see with their eyes, and hear with their ears, and should understand with their heart, and should be converted, and I should heal them." The Jews willfully closed their eyes and their ears, and barred their hearts with prejudice, lest they should see a better way, and thus be aroused from their pleasant dreams of carnal security. The people of the present generation are pursuing the same course. The great mass of mankind are unwilling to exchange error for truth. They are satisfied with their present condition, and have no desire to be converted.
New truth is constantly unfolding; at every step, new and clearer light is shining upon the pathway of God's people, that they may go onward and upward. We are to be sanctified through obedience to the truth. For want of this Bible sanctification, the soul of many a professed Christian has become a desecrated shrine, the haunt of hollow formalism, of selfishness and hypocrisy, pride and passion. Thousands are living on in guilty unconsciousness of their sin and danger, despising the Saviour's warnings, treating his ambassadors with contempt, and their words as idle tales.
The servants of Christ may at times feel almost disheartened as they see that there are many obstacles to the progress of the truth, and the work seems to move slowly. But their duty remains the same. They are to sow the seed of truth beside all waters. Whatever their difficulties and trials, they can carry all to God in prayer. They can weep between the porch and the altar, saying, "Spare thy people, O Lord, and give not thine heritage to reproach." By study of the Scriptures and earnest, wrestling prayer, they may become strong in the strength of the mighty one. Labor on, brethren, while the day lasts. The night cometh, in which no man can work. The world must be warned, and God has called us to this work. If we neglect our duty, souls will be lost through our unfaithfulness.
A serious and perhaps unsuspected hindrance to the success of the truth is to be found in our churches themselves. When an effort is made to present our faith to unbelievers, the members of the church stand back, as though they were not an interested party, and let all the burden rest upon the minister. I know that for this reason the labor of our most able ministers has been at times productive of little good. The very best sermons may be preached, the message may be just what the people need, and yet no souls are gained as sheaves to present to Christ.
In laboring where there are some already in the faith, the minister should at first seek not so much to convert unbelievers, as to secure his army of workers. He is not merely to present the truth from the desk, but as the shepherd of the flock he should care for the sheep and the lambs, searching out the lost and straying, and bringing them back to the fold. He should visit every family, not merely as a guest, to enjoy their hospitality, but as Christ's servant to inquire into the spiritual condition of every member of the household. His own soul must be imbued with the love of God; by kindness, love, and courtesy, he should win his way to the hearts of all, and then labor faithfully for the good of parents and children, entreating, warning, encouraging, as the case demands.
A constant effort to promote personal piety should be seen in the minister's public labors. Sermon after sermon should not be given on the prophecies alone. Practical religion should have a place in every discourse. The discourses should be short, and to the point, and followed by a spirited social meeting. Sometimes the social meeting would have the best influence to come first. Let every member of the church feel a duty to labor wisely, skillfully, and earnestly. Let all bear testimony with the one object in view, to glorify God, to gain a deeper experience themselves and to save souls. Thus the church will be kept working with the minister, the careless will be aroused to seek a reconversion themselves, and then they are prepared to work for others. This is good generalship. The results will be found to be far better than if the minister performed all the labor alone.
Each church can enjoy the labors of a minister but a short time at best. Hence they should seek to gain the greatest possible benefit from his labors. During his stay among them, they should give less attention to their temporal affairs, and all stand ready to second the efforts of the Lord's messenger.
It is harder to reach the hearts of men to-day than it was twenty years ago. The most convincing arguments may be presented to sustain the truth, and yet sinners seem as far from repentance and conversion as ever. The work of saving souls is no child's play. It requires earnest, untiring labor to wrench the prey of Satan from his grasp. But God will sustain his servants in the work which he has himself committed to their hands. Said Christ to the first disciples, as they toiled upon the sea of Galilee, "Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men." When the gospel net is cast, let there be a watching by the net, with tears and earnest prayer. Let the workers determine not to become discouraged; and not to let go the net until it is drawn ashore, with the fruit of their labor. Sometimes, indeed, we may say with Peter, "We have toiled all the night and have taken nothing;" but still it is the Master's command, as of old, "Let down the net on the right side of the ship,"—work on in faith, and God will give success.
Jesus bids us as a people, Go forward. There are higher attainments, a purer love, a deeper experience for us, if we will consecrate ourselves to God, and humbly take him at his word. The reason why we have no greater confidence and joy is that there is in us an evil heart of unbelief. Our Heavenly Father is more willing to give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him than are earthly parents to give good gifts to their children. Let us shake off the spiritual paralysis that dishonors God and imperils our souls. If we draw near to122God, he will draw near to us. We must not wait for better opportunities, for strong persuasions, or for holier tempers. We can do nothing of ourselves. We must trust to Jesus' power to save. He is holding out to us the crown of life, and desires us to accept it. Let us come to him, just as we are, and we shall find a present help in our time of need.
The sweet sense of sins forgiven, the light and love which Christ alone can give, fill the soul with subdued, solemn joy. The assurance that we are under the protection of Omnipotence imparts new courage and confidence, inspires a hope that is as an anchor to the soul, sure and steadfast, entering into that within the vail. With this assurance we have a source of strength unknown before. Whatever the duty which God requires, we are ready cheerfully to perform it. So long as we have the presence of our Saviour, difficulties cannot dismay nor dangers appall us. If we were only as free to speak of the blessings we receive from God as we are to talk of doubts and discouragements, we would enjoy far more of his presence. "Whoso offereth praise, glorifieth God." Let us praise God more, and complain less; let us talk of the love of Jesus, and his wondrous power, and we shall be brought nearer and nearer to our Saviour.
Shall we not consecrate ourselves to God without reserve? Christ, the King of glory, gave himself a ransom for us. Can we withhold anything from him? Shall we think our poor unworthy selves too precious, our time, our property, too valuable to give to Jesus? No, no; the deepest homage of our hearts, the ablest service of our hands, our talents of ability and of means, all are but too poor to bring to our Redeemer.
"Were the whole realm of nature mine,
That were a tribute far too small;
Love so amazing, so divine,
Demands my life, my soul, my all."
HE KNOWS.
He knows the bitter, weary way,
The endless striving, day by day,
The souls that weep, the souls that pray.
He knows!
He knows how hard the fight hath been,
The clouds that come our lives between,
The wounds the world hath never seen.
He knows!
He knows! Oh, thought so full of bliss!
For though on earth our joy we miss,
We still can bear it feeling this—
He knows!
He knows! Oh, heart, take up thy cross,
And know earth’s treasures are but dross,
And he will prove as gain our loss!
He knows!
—Boston Transcript.
Darwinism Reversed.
If the fact that there are certain points of resemblance between man and the monkey is sufficient to prove that man sprang from the monkey, then by a similiar mode of reasoning we can prove that the oak sprang from the tomato plant; and we can do it thus : the oak plants its roots in the ground, and so does the tomato; the oak clothes itself with foliage, and so does the tomato; the trunk of the oak is enveloped in bark, and so is the stalk of the tomato; both the oak and the tomato bloom and bear and propagate; both are liable to the influences of heat, and cold, and rain, and sunshine; both are subject to the action of fire, and when burned the ashes of one might readily be mistaken for the ashes of the other. Therefore, if Darwin's logic is good for anything, the oak is certainly a descendant of the tomato.
Notwithstanding Mr. Darwin's unparalleled fertility of imagination, he occasionally encounters difficulties almost too stupendous even for his resources.
One of his troubles was to account for the fact that man, being sprung from a quadruped, now walks erect on two feet, using the other two as hands. Another of his difficulties was in explaining how men and women had lost the hair from their limbs and bodies. And still another puzzle was in accounting for the disappearance of their tails, because he insists that his ancestors had tails. (Indeed, I may remark in passing that one of the latest items of news is that the title of Darwin's next forthcoming work will be "The Tails of our Ancestors.")
So far as the first-mentioned difficulty is concerned, namely, that concerning the feet, Darwin is of the opinion that by gradually ceasing to use the fore legs and feet for the purposes of locomotion, and limiting their use to the purposes of shaping utensils, preparing food, etc., they lost much of their original size and stiffness and became adapted to the uses for which we now employ them.
But to dispose of the tails and hairs that had once adorned his apish ancestors he seemingly finds a more troublesome task; so he resorts to what he calls sexual selection in order to solve the problem. He assumes that at some vastly remote period his ancient forefathers and foremothers became tired both of their hairy covering and their long tails, so that when a young monkey reached a marriageable age he or she always looked out for a spouse with as short a tail and as scant a covering of hair over the body and limbs as possible. And it is claimed that a portion of the fruits of those short-tailed and thin-haired marriages were blessed with still shorter tails and still lighter coverings of hair, and that by means of keeping a similar custom for many generations both tail and hairs finally disappeared, leaving a race of nude and tailless monkeys, henceforth to be called man, standing erect upon their hinder legs, "the wonder and glory of the universe."
All this we are asked to accept as scientific truth, not because of any well-authenticated supporting facts, but because of the supposed intrinsic reasonableness of the theory itself.
How it is possible that any man, even with a monkey's intelligence, much less any monkey with man's intelligence, can, in the name of science, be imposed upon by such sophistry, is difficult to understand. Who does not know that anything of animal nature that animals of the brute kind, instead of being ashamed of any of their natural gifts, delight in their possession and love to display them.
I know of but one instance recorded, either in history or fable, where a brute endowed by nature with a long tail ever professed an admiration for a short one. The instance that I refer to is that of a fox mentioned in an ancient fable, which, having lost its tail by being caught in a trap, called a meeting of all the other foxes and sought to prevail upon them to adopt short tails as a fashion. I do not think, however, that they followed his advice.
But Darwin has found a still greater difficulty to solve than either of those just mentioned. The most overwhelming difference between man and the monkey consists in man's moral sense and his vastly superior intelligence. Darwin himself admits this. At page 125 of his "Descent of Man" he says: "There can be no doubt that the difference between the mind of the lowest man and that of the highest animal is immense." Although Darwin does not assert it as a fact, yet his theory would seem to involve the idea that man's reasoning faculties and his moral sense, or sense of right and wrong, have gradually developed and improved in the same proportion as his tail shortened and his hair disappeared.
But in the name of all the monkeys at once, I would ask what the thickness of a monkey's hair or the length of his tail has to do with either the measure of his intelligence or the acuteness of his moral perceptions? Can Mr. Darwin tell us the degree of a monkey's intelligence by measuring his tail? Or test the question of his moral honesty by counting the hairs upon his back? If not, then how did it happen that as the tails of his ancestral apes grew shorter and shorter, and their hairs grew thinner and thinner, both their minds and their moral sense grew brighter and brighter? According to Darwin's theory we are forced to conclude that there must have been an intimate relation between these bodily changes on the one hand and these mental and moral changes on the other, or else some of those hairy and long-tailed monkeys, especially the most intelligent ones, descended as they were from the same common parentage, and belonging to the same family, would undoubtedly have outstripped the most stupid portion of their bobtailed brethren.
But how are we to account for this immense chasm which Mr. Darwin admits lies between the intelligence of the lowest human and that of the highest brute? You will remember that according to Darwin man is supposed to have started from a something resembling the larve of an ascidian, a headless, spineless insect. From that he became a very small fish called a lancelet, then in the process of evolution, he developed into another fish of a larger species; finally he became amphibious, and of course served his time either as a turtle, a toad, or a water snake. Then he became entirely a dry land animal, and after passing through the various lower grades of four-footed animalism he became, perhaps, a goat, or a dog, and finally a monkey—first a monkey of the lowest species, from which he worked his way up into a chimpanzee, the most intelligent and very highest order of monkeys.
Now, according to Darwin's own showing, there is no sudden break in the long chain of animal intelligences stretching all the way from the most stupid specimen of animated existence up to the chimpanzee. Wherein and in every stage of being through which it is claimed that the chimpanzee and his ancestors have passed they have successively left myriads and myriads of representatives exactly similar to their immediate progenitors. Thus they have left the ocean123swarming with fishes of every kind, shape, and size, from the minutest species of minnow, to the mightiest monster of the deep. They have left upon the water's edge of every sea, lake, river, and rivulet millions and millions of turtles, toads, and water snakes, to mark their supposed pathway through the regions of amphibianism; and finally they have left every continent and every island of every ocean resounding with the voices of beasts, birds, and insects of every conceivable nature, form, color, and shade of intelligence. There is no chasm there.
If you take any one species of beasts, birds, reptiles, fishes, or insects, from the keenest monkey down to the dullest snail, and compare it with a specimen of what seems to be the next highest species in the scale of intelligence, you will find it difficult, if not impossible, to decide satisfactorily, even to your own mind, which of the two is the more intelligent.
Indeed, according to Darwin's own showing, the rise in the scale of intelligence as you ascend from the minnow to the monkey is so gradual that your pathway apparently lies upon a smooth, level plain, rather than up the ascending slope of a mountain. But the moment you reach the highest point of monkey intelligence, you come to a sudden halt. A vast mental chasm lies before you, wherein no living intelligence dwells. Upon the farther side of this chasm there towers a mental mountain of prodigious height; whereon sits enthroned the human intellect, with its almost God-like powers; an intellect which has not only given man the mastery over every living creature that inhabits the earth, the air, or the sea, but which has given him dominion over the very elements of which earth, air, and sea are formed. If the time ever was when man was only a monkey in intellect, how did he ever cross this immense and unpeopled chasm, or ascend these stupendous mental heights which now lie between him and the most intelligent of the monkey race, and yet leave behind not one solitary vestige of an intermediate tribe to perpetuate the memory of this tremendous march? If there is any bridge across this chasm, or any Jacob's ladder ascending these heights, whereby an ape may travel from monkeydom to manhood, why do we not see thereon the myriads of these transition monkeys on their way to this human mountain? According to Darwin there must have been a time when man's ancestors were in the act of passing over this now dividing space. Then, why is it that they have left no successors? Why is it that between man and the monkey we do not see to-day numerous intermediate tribes, some just a little more intelligent than the chimpanzee, corresponding with what our ancestors were when, thousands of years ago, they took the first step in advance of this species of monkey? And why do we not see other tribes only a shade less intelligent than man, and myriads of other intermediate tribes rising in intelligence one above the other, and as completely filling the intellectual gap which Darwin admits to exist between the present man and the present monkey, as do the countless legions of animals of every conceivable species fill that other gap that lies between the minnow and the monkey?
Darwin sees the difficulty and vainly attempts to solve it thus: He assumes, without the least show of proof, that the various species of animal intelligences which at some vastly remote and wholly indefinable period of the past formed the numerous links of a connecting chain between the hindmost man and the foremost monkey, somehow or another dropped out of existence; leaving upon that long bridge, supposed to span the dividing space between man-land and monkey-land, not a solitary midway monkey to tell the awful tale. But this calamity Darwin tells us, happened a very long time ago. Then, why, let me ask, have not the other monkeys, who were standing just upon the intellectual heels of those lost tribes, stepped forward and filled their places? If, as is claimed by this new philosophy, the man-monkey, relying solely on his unaided intellect, has pioneered his way over the bridge which spans this chasm, and if man now stands forth—as in the person of Mr. Darwin—with outstretched arms to embrace, encourage, and assist his fellow-monkey over this bridge; why is it that Mr. monkey does not come along? Why doesn't he shed his hair, drop his tail, rear himself on his hinder legs, put on what we miners used to call a "boiled shirt," a pair of pantaloons, a swallow-tail coat, a beaver hat, stick a cigar in his mouth, and proclaim himself a candidate for office? This, I think, would be a good starting-point, for if successful—which he most probably would be—he would fill a position which, according to the times in which we live, would require but little brains, and no conscience whatever.
But while I believe it impossible for a monkey ever to ascend to man's proper mental or moral level, I am not so sure that the converse of that proposition is equally true. It is much easier to jump from the top of a tree to the ground than it is to jump from the ground to the top of a tree. A stone will roll down hill by the force of its own gravity; but its own gravity will not roll it back again. For a similar reason it is far easier for a man to descend to the monkey's level than for the monkey to ascend to the level of man.
There is no instance that I know of recorded in either profane or sacred history where a brute was ever known to have been raised to the dignity of manhood; but there is a well authenticated instance recorded in the Bible, where a man—an office-holder, too, by the by—did descend from the very pinnacle of human pride and power to take his place amongst the beasts of the field. We are told in holy writ that as the great king Nebuchadnezzar was walking in his palace he said in the pride of his heart, "Is not this great Babylon that I have built, for the house of the kingdom by the might of my power and for the honor of my majesty?" But scarcely had these words escaped his lips when a voice came down from Heaven, saying, "Thy kingdom shall pass from thee. And they shall cast thee out from among men, and thy dwelling shall be with cattle and wild beasts, thou shalt eat grass like an ox, and seven times shall pass over thee till thou know that the Most High ruleth in the kingdom of men and giveth it to whomsoever he will. The same hour the word was fulfilled upon Nebuchadnezzar, and he was driven away from among men, and did eat grass like an ox, and his body was wet with the dew of heaven; till his hairs grew like the feathers of eagles, and his nails like bird's claws."
Let us here pause a moment and ask ourselves why Nebuchadnezzar thus humiliated and degraded from the very pinnacle of human power and human glory, so as to become like a beast of the field? Was it not, I ask, because of his great pride, his attempt to rob the Almighty of the honor which was his, and to appropriate it to himself? "Is not this," said he "the great Babylon and for the honor of my majesty?" and forthwith he was changed into a beast.
Now, can it be denied that the proud self-sufficient spirit of Darwinism is more impious and more derogatory to the rightful honor due to the Almighty, than was the spirit which prompted those haughty words of the great Babylonian king? Why, even more impious than Nebuchadnezzar, Darwin points to man—a far greater city than Babylon or any other city built with human hands—a city which God himself built, when he said, 'Let us make man in our own image and likeness.' A city whose very life is the breath of Divinity; a city which, as it came from the hands of the great master builder, infinitely surpassed in beauty and magnificence all the works of man, because it was fashioned after the likeness of God himself, the author and source of all that is grand and beautiful in the universe—pointing, I repeat, to this city Darwin says, "Have not we ourselves by the power of our might, built up this city?" That is to say, have not I and my ancestral monkeys, crocodiles, reptiles, toads, and tadpoles, by the process of natural selection, evolved ourselves from the lowest organism of animated matter, until we have made ourselves the wonder and glory of the universe?"
Darwinism, however, differs from Nebuchadnezzarism in this: In the case of Nebuchadnezzar's impiety, it required a miracle of God to degrade him to the level of the brute; whereas in Darwin's case the impiety brings with it its own degradation, because by means of this same blasphemy wherewith he robs God of his honor, he consigns himself to the company of the vilest of brutes, not merely making them his companions, but his blood relations. The condition of Nebuchadnezzar, during the time that he grazed with the cattle, was a happy one when compared with that of the self-constituted Darwinian brute; because for the time being he was bereft of his reason, and like the brute had instincts and desires suited to his changed condition.
My conclusion is that if all mankind were resolved to be brutes, it would be far better, were it possible, to be brute monkeys than brute men. Chiefly for two reasons, namely: First, because our necessities would then be somewhat commensurate with our means; and secondly, because there would be far more security in a community of brute monkeys than in a community of brute men. But the God of nature has so provided that man cannot sink to the level of the brute without going still lower. As a meteoric stone from the skies, falling as it does from a prodigious height, does not stop when it strikes the ground, but buries itself deep down in the earth, so man losing his moral balance, and falling from those lofty moral heights upon which the God of nature placed him, stops not at the brute's level, but borne down by the force of his momentum, he plunges far deeper into the depths of degradation than the vilest of brutes. God has given to the natural brute an instinct which for all necessary purposes serves him as a substitute for both reason and conscience; but let man lose his conscience, and, unlike the brute, he has no corresponding instinct to supply its place. For example, the law of instinct preserves the brute from the debasing self-destructive habit of intemperance; but man, bereft of his conscience, or even with a weakened conscience, and having no such saving instinct, often wallows in the filthy mire of drunkenness to a degree which would scandalize the vilest of brutes.—Family's Defender.
PRAISE.
I PRAISE thee, God the Father, for this good gift of life.
Else I had never known the joy that brightens Christian strife.
I praise thee, Christ the Saviour, for all thine earthly woe;
Hadst thou not grieved and died for me, I had not loved thee so.
I praise thee, Holy Spirit, thy grace hath entered in;
Until thy light fell on my heart, I could not see my sin.
Imperfect Religion.
By Horatius Bonar
Very much of the religion of the day is an easy-minded religion, without conflict and wrestling with self-denial and sacrifice—a religion which knows nothing of the pangs of the new birth at its commencement, and nothing of the desperate strife with the flesh and with the devil, day by day, making us long for resurrection, deliverance, for the binding of the adversary, and for the Lord's return. It is a second-rate religion—a religion in which there is no largeness, no grandeur, no potency, no noble-mindedness, no all-constraining love. It is a hollow religion, with a fair exterior, but an aching heart—a heart unsatisfied, a soul not at rest, a conscience marked, it may be, by activity and excitement, but betraying all the consciousness of a wound hidden and unhealed within, and hence unable to animate to lofty doings, or supply the strength needed for such doings. It is a feeble religion, lacking the sinews and bones of hardier times, very different from the indomitable, much-enduring, storm-braving religion, not merely of apostolic days, but even of the Reformation. It is an uncertain religion; that is to say, it is not rooted on certainty; it is not the outflowing of a soul assured of pardon, of rejoicing in the filial relationship between itself and God; hence there is no liberty of service; for the question of personal acceptance is still an unsettled thing; there is a working for pardon, but not from pardon. All is thus bondage, heaviness, irksomeness; there is a speaking for God, but it is with a faltering tongue; there is a laboring for God, but it is with fettered hands; there is a movement in the way of his commands, but it is with a heavy drag upon our limbs; hence the inefficient, uninfluential character of our religion. It does not tell on others, for it has not yet fully told upon ourselves. It falls short of its mark, for the arm that drew the bow is paralyzed.
—Rev. Horatius Bonar.
The Father’s Unchanging Love
By Spurgeon
Our heavenly Father loves his child as much when he chastens it as when he caresses it. The Lord's own people are as dear to him in the furnace of affliction as on the mount of communion; they are just as precious in his sight when he slays them, and seems in his fierce anger to destroy their joys and wither their hopes, as when he lifts them to his own right hand. The Lord does not rise and fall in his love like the waves of the sea, but his firm affections stand fast like the great mountains, and are as stable as the everlasting hills.—Spurgeon.
Untempered Mortar.
By Eld. J. D. Rice
By Eld. J. D. Rice.
The prophet Ezekiel in speaking of the efforts which would be made by ministers to sustain the slight "wall" which "one" (the papacy) should "build up" in the breach which it made in the law of God, by removing the Lord's Sabbath, says, they shall "daub it with untempered mortar." What this "untempered mortar" is, may be readily seen from the context. It consists in "saying, Thus saith the Lord God, when the Lord hath not spoken." Eze. 22 : 26-30. See also chap. 13 : 1-15. The various reasons which are urged to sustain for doctrine that which lacks that essential element, the thus saith the Lord, constitute therefore, this untempered mortar. In the above case it is their efforts to sustain Sunday keeping.
The following may illustrate how this daubing is done: "We should keep Sunday in honor of the resurrection of Christ on that day;" "because redemption was completed on that day;" "because the Lord only requires a seventh part of time, and not the seventh day." "We should and do keep the seventh day, for any day in the week is the seventh; it depends upon where you begin to count." "The world is round and you can't keep the seventh day." "The seventh day is the old Jewish Sabbath, and those who keep it are 'under the law,' and 'in bondage.'" "Time has been lost, and we can't tell when the seventh day does come." "We should follow apostolic example, who, though they always call the seventh day the Sabbath, and give a record of having kept at least eighty-four, and declare that it was their 'manner,' to meet and worship upon that day, yet left us their example of having held one religious meeting, at night, on the first day." "There is no Sabbath, for the commandments were all abolished, and we are not under the law." Others say, "It has all been re-enacted, excepting the Sabbath." "We should be subject to the powers that be," whether they do that for which they were "ordained of God" or not. See 1 Pet. 2 : 14.
These are samples of the various contradictory reasons which are urged by its friends to uphold one and the same institution. Were there really a "Thus saith the Lord," for all of them, then well might the infidel, with a contemptuous sneer, pronounce such a mass of contradictions the mean and silly productions of man. And just in proportion as these friends of the Sunday strengthen their finely-wrought and contradictory theories to uphold it, they strengthen the hands of the infidel.
But we ask, Where has the Lord ever said to keep the Sunday, and for any of the above or other reasons, even if they were all true? Echo answers, where? The "Thus saith the Lord" is lacking. They are therefore but hods of untempered mortar, which may sustain the wall in this, the summer time of the world's history, but when the "overflowing shower in God's anger" shall fall, and "the hail shall sweep away the refuge of lies," then will the untempered mortar fail to sustain the wall, and its foundation of sand will prove its ruin, and the ruin of those who have sheltered themselves by it, for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it. Eze. 13 : 4-15; 22 : 26-31; Isa. 28 : 15, 17; Rev. 16 : 17-21.
Williams, Cal., February 24, 1882.
Family Worship
FAMILY WORSHIP.—There ought to be no sweeter hour in the day than that in which comes the morning meal and the family worship. Yet it is sorrowful to see what sometimes passes for the latter. A chapter of the Bible hurried through, a rambling, stereotyped prayer mumbled over, and the participants rush off to the work which they have been meanwhile thinking about, and which they enjoy a great deal better. The exercise is wrapped in fog, instead of being crowned with heaven's light. It is a mistake to suppose that fluency or education are specially needed in conducting family worship. It wants a heart most of all. Let there not be a single petition that is not born of real desire—even if the prayer be not two minutes long. Blessed be the home where the spirit of song dwells and adds its charm to the morning worship. The exercise need not be long, but it should not be crowded. Break up the formality; carry all the soul-life you have into it; and its savor shall not go through the day alone, but among all the home memories none shall be stronger to hold the grown-up children to the faith of their fathers.