p. 291 | Signs of the Times, Vol. 11, No. 19. (5/14/1885)

Signs of the Times

May 14, 1885

International Tract and Missionary Society · Oakland, California · May 14, 1885

The Gospel in Macedonia.

By Ellen G. White

BY MRS. E. G. WHITE.

After a time Paul again visited the churches of Asia Minor, accompanied by Silas. On this journey his attention was called to Timothy, who had received a careful religious education, and was of good report among the brethren of Lystra and Iconium. In this young man Paul saw one who appreciated the ministerial work, and was not appalled at the prospect of suffering and persecution; and he took Timothy with him to assist in his labors.

After spending some time in Asia Minor, in a night vision Paul received a call to visit Macedonia; and soon Paul and his companions were preaching the gospel in Philippi, one of the chief cities of Macedonia.

At Philippi, Lydia, of the city of Thyatira, heard the apostles, and her heart was open to receive the truth. She and her household were converted and baptized, and she entreated the apostles to make her house their home.

Day after day, as they went to their devotions, a woman with the spirit of divination followed them, crying, “These men are the servants of the most high God, which show unto us the way of salvation.” This woman was a special agent of Satan; and, as the devils were troubled by the presence of Christ, so the evil spirit which possessed her was ill at ease in the presence of the apostles. Her words were an injury to the cause of truth, distracting the minds of the people, and throwing disrepute upon the work by causing people to believe that the men who spoke with the Spirit and power of God were actuated by the same spirit as was this emissary of Satan.

The apostles endured this opposition for several days; then Paul, under inspiration of the Spirit of God, commanded the evil spirit to leave the woman. Satan was thus met and rebuked. The immediate and continued silence of the woman testified that the apostles were the servants of God, and that the demon had acknowledged them to be such, and had obeyed their command. When the woman was dispossessed of the spirit of the devil, and restored to herself, her masters were alarmed for their craft. They saw that all hope of receiving money from her divinations and soothsayings was at an end, and perceived that if the apostles were allowed to continue their work, their own source of income would soon be entirely cut off.

A mighty cry was therefore raised against the servants of God, for many were interested in gaining money by Satanic delusions. They brought the apostles before the magistrates with the charge that “these men, being Jews, do exceedingly trouble our city, and teach customs which are not lawful for us to receive, neither to observe, being Romans.”

A mob spirit prevailed, and was sanctioned by the authorities, who tore the clothes from the apostles, and commanded them to be scourged. “And when they had laid many stripes upon them, they cast them into prison, charging the jailer to keep them safely; who, having received such a charge, thrust them into the inner prison, and made their feet fast in the stocks.”

The apostles were left in a very painful condition. Their lacerated and bleeding backs, were in contact with the rough stone floor, while their feet were elevated and bound fast in the stocks. In this unnatural position they suffered extreme torture; but instead of groaning or complaining, they encouraged each other, and praised God with grateful hearts that they were found worthy to suffer shame for his dear name. Paul was reminded of the persecution he had been instrumental in heaping upon the disciples of Christ, and he was devoutly thankful that his eyes had been opened to see, and his heart to feel, the glorious truths of the gospel of the Son of God, and that he had been privileged to preach the doctrine which he had once despised.

There in the pitchy darkness and desolation of the inner prison, Paul and Silas prayed, and sung songs of praise to God. The other prisoners listened with astonishment. They had been accustomed to hear shrieks and moans, cursing and swearing, breaking at night upon the silence of the prison; but they had never before heard the words of prayer and praise ascending from that gloomy cell.

But God had not forgotten to be gracious to his suffering servants. An angel was sent from Heaven to release the apostles. As he neared the Roman prison, the earth trembled beneath his feet, the whole city was shaken by the earthquake, and the prison walls reeled like a reed in the wind. The heavily bolted doors flew open; the chains and fetters fell from the hands and feet of every prisoner.

The keeper of the jail had heard with amazement the prayers and singing of the imprisoned apostles. When they were led in, he had seen their swollen and bleeding wounds, and he had himself caused their feet to be fastened in the instruments of torture. He had expected to hear bitter wailing, groans, and imprecations; but lo! his ears were greeted with joyful praise. He fell asleep with these sounds in his ears, but was awakened by the earthquake, and the shaking of the prison walls.

Upon awakening he saw all the prison doors open, and his first thought was that the prisoners had escaped. He remembered with what an explicit charge the prisoners had been intrusted to his care the night before, and he felt sure that death would be the penalty of his apparent unfaithfulness. He cried out in the bitterness of his spirit that it was better for him to die by his own hand than to submit to a disgraceful execution. He was about to kill himself, when Paul cried out with a loud voice, “Do thyself no harm; for we are all here.” The jailer dropped his sword, and called for a light. He hastened into the inner dungeon, and fell down before Paul and Silas, begging their forgiveness. He then brought them into the open court, and inquired of them, “Sirs, what must I do to be saved?”

He saw his own deplorable condition in contrast with that of the disciples, and with deep humility and reverence asked them to show him the way of life. “And they said, Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved, and thy house. And they spake unto him the word of the Lord, and to all that were in his house.” The jailer then washed the wounds of the apostles, and ministered unto them, and was baptized by them. A sanctifying influence spread among the inmates of the prison, and the hearts of all were opened to receive the truths uttered by the apostles.

When the officers informed the magistrates in the morning of what had occurred at the prison, they sent the sergeants to liberate the apostles from prison. “But Paul said unto them, They have beaten us openly, uncondemned, being Romans, and have cast us into prison; and now do they thrust us out privily? nay, verily; but let them come themselves and fetch us out.”

Paul and Silas felt that to maintain the dignity of Christ’s church, they must not submit to the illegal course proposed by the Roman magistrates. The apostles were Roman citizens, and it was unlawful to scourge a Roman, save for the most flagrant crime, or to deprive him of his liberty without a fair trial and condemnation. They had been publicly thrust into prison, and now refused to be privately released, without proper acknowledgments on the part of the magistrates.

When the word was brought to the authorities, they were alarmed for fear the apostles would make complaint of their unlawful treatment to the emperor, and cause the magistrates to lose their positions. They accordingly visited the prison, apologized to the apostles for their injustice and cruelty, and themselves conducted them out of the prison, and entreated them to depart out of the city. Thus the Lord wrought for his servants in their extremity.

The magistrates entreated them to depart

because they feared their influence over the people, and the power of Heaven that had interposed in behalf of those innocent men who had been unlawfully scourged and imprisoned. Acting upon the principles given them by Christ, the apostles would not urge their presence where it was not desired. They complied with the request of the magistrates, but did not hasten their departure precipitously. They went rejoicing from the prison to the house of Lydia, where they met the new converts to the faith of Christ, and related all the wonderful dealings of God with them. They related their night’s experience, and the conversion of the keeper of the prison, and of the prisoners.

The apostles viewed their labors in Philippi as not in vain. The Philippians saw represented in the deportment and presence of mind of the apostles the spirit of the religion of Jesus Christ. The apostles might have fled when the earthquake opened their prison doors and loosened their fetters; but that would have been an acknowledgment that they were criminals, which would have been a disgrace to the gospel of Christ; the jailer would have been exposed to the penalty of death, and the general influence would have been bad. As it was, Paul controlled the liberated prisoners so perfectly that not one attempted to escape.

The Philippians could not but acknowledge the nobility and generosity of the apostles in their course of action, especially in forbearing to appeal to a higher power against the magistrates who had persecuted them. The news of their unjust imprisonment and miraculous deliverance, was noised about through all that region, and brought the apostles and their ministry before the notice of a large number who would not otherwise have been reached.

Paul’s labors at Philippi resulted in the establishment of a church there, whose numbers steadily increased. His example of zeal and devotion, above all, his willingness to suffer for Christ’s sake, exerted a deep and lasting influence upon the converts to the faith. They highly prized the precious truths for which the apostle had sacrificed so much, and they gave themselves, with whole-hearted devotion, to the cause of their Redeemer.

GOD'S PROMISES.

LORD, I believe! The cross of care That crowds upon my tired heart, I bring to thee! No other love Could lift the load, relieve the smart. Strength for the day, thy promise gives; Because thou art, thy servant lives.

Lord, I believe! The rain of tears That dims these weeping eyes to-night, Can never hide thy rainbow arch, Thy sign of love and life and light! In mystic grandeur, calm and high, It arches o'er my western sky.

Lord, I believe! The Babel sounds That ring upon my weary ear, Drown not the still, small voice that speaks In steadfast accents, true and clear; Lord, here am I! Thy will reveal, As at thy blessed feet I kneel.

Lord, I believe! The cross is hard, The night is dark, and long the road; Can I forget the form that bowed 'Neath sharper cross, and heavier load? The wounded feet that here have trod, And marked with blood the shuddering sod?

Lord, I believe! Mine unbelief, My weakness, and my wrong forgive! Tired, trembling, troubled, let me touch Thy garment's hem and I shall live; For, wounded, sinful, though I be, God's promises are all for me.

—The Advance.

The “Social Element.”

By J. N. Short

The cultivation of the social element in the church is all the rage to-day. We might suppose, from what we hear, that this was the grand condition of the millennium. It is the way to draw people and get them saved, we are told. But it is a little astonishing how the church used to be the scene of such deep conviction, such wonderful conversions, such mighty, sweeping revivals, and how she grew in grace and spiritual power, paid her way, and maintained a respectable existence, before any of these modern devices were thought of. But that she did, there is no question.

How strange that Wesley never thought of this in all his wise legislation for the church. Perhaps it was that he found nothing in the Bible that suggested it. But to-day this is the cry, “We must cultivate the social element.” What a sophistry of the devil is this! Such cultivation so utterly kills out all true spiritual sociability, that the prayer and class-meetings, if they are attended,—which they are not, where this social cultivation is practiced,—are places of cold silence, gloom and death, from which every sinner might well pray to be delivered. Surely, if what such people manifest in the social meetings is religion, righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost, we do not wonder that young people want to have a little more pleasure before entering this vale of cold shadows.

The heart of the true child of God must burn with a sense of shame and holy indignation to see how effectually the devil is blinding, captivating, and capturing the church, through worldly church members, and converting many of our churches into clap-traps to destroy spiritual life, by choking all the innocents to death as soon as they are born. If it does not do this, it teaches them to believe that all they have heard about religion is not true,—it does not meet the longing of the soul; we must find our pleasure in something besides spiritual things. Hence, from the training they have received, we have many semi-infidels growing up in the church. Much of this is done through the organized system of entertainments instituted to cultivate the social element, all of which was born of spiritual death. Shade of Wesley! where are we drifting? Cultured, cold Unitarianism is much better; for it is just what it professes to be.

Think of the church of Jesus Christ fiddling to please the worldly horde, under the plea of cultivating the “social element,” and in her starved, shriveled weakness, making a clown of herself to win the patronage of the world, that she may eke out an existence that is of no consequence to human welfare,—an existence, because of what it is, that is not half so noble and dignified as a club-room or a theater. Is this the church of Jesus Christ? If so, “how are the mighty fallen!” What impressions must young converts get of God, his promises, and the power of grace! What is the impression upon the unsaved?

Shall we not teach young converts that there is a distinction with a difference? “Woe unto them that call evil good, and good evil; that put darkness for light, and light for darkness; that put bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter!” What are many of the young converts of to-day taught to forego, that would not be very unbecoming to them, even if they were not the professed followers of Christ?

In an ancient book we have read, if we are not mistaken, “Ye adulterers and adulteresses, know ye not that the friendship of the world is enmity with God?” And in that same book we find this advice: “Love not the world, neither the things that are in the world. If any man love the world, the love of the Father is not in him.” We also find this: “Be not conformed to this world; but be ye transformed [or better, transfigured] by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect will of God.”

We have also the experience of one who lived some years since, who, perhaps, would be regarded by some as not abreast of the times; but he said, “If any man be in Christ, he is a new creature; old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.” In this he teaches us that the tastes are changed so that we have no fellowship with worldliness. This was his experience when he first came into the church in good and regular standing. From that point, he describes his experience thus: “This one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before. I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.” And he gave this advice to all: “Brethren, be followers together of me, and mark them which walk so as ye have us for an example.”

We know that this man’s experience is not quoted much by those who mourn the great lack of sociability in the church, and desire to rejuvenate the church, and make her the center of attraction through the agency of dramatics, pantomimes, broom drills, etc. But if we could have a little more of such experience in the church among those of influence, there would be a great increase in attendance upon the social meetings of the church. These places would soon become very much more social, because those who attended would have something always to talk about, which would be “too good to keep.” They could talk with a boldness, positiveness, dignity, and unction which would command the respect of all candid, unconverted men. Men would then see that there was some harmony between their profession and the word of God; young converts would discover that there was “a difference between the precious and the vile; between him that served God and him that served him not.”—J. N. Short, in Christian Witness.

A Bundle of Sticks for the Prayer-Meeting Fire

By H. Clay Trumbull

PAUL once gathered a bundle of sticks, and laid them on the fire. If a man wants a fire kept up, he must do his share in supplying its fuel. It was down on the coast of Florida, in war time. A little band of Christian soldiers held a weekly prayer-meeting in a church building deserted by its ordinary congregation. One evening a new voice was heard there. An officer who had been in frequent attendance, but who had not before taken part in the exercises, said: “I am not accustomed to speak in prayer-meetings. I do not feel competent to that service. But I have so greatly enjoyed these meetings, week after week, that I have thought it was hardly fair for me to be always warming myself by this Christian fire without ever furnishing an armful of fuel; so I rise to tell you that your Saviour is my Saviour, and that I am very grateful for all the help and cheer you have been to me in his service, at these week-night prayer-meetings.” And as that little “bundle of sticks” was thrown into that army prayer-meeting fire, the flame flashed up there in new light and warmth, and more than one soldier present rejoiced afresh in its glow. When did you gather the last bundle of sticks for the fire of your church or neighborhood prayer-meeting? It may be by timely words of exhortation or prayer, that you supply your share of the fuel. It may be by a part in the service of song. Or it may be by the responsive look in your face, which helps him who leads, through its assurance that one at least of those before him is all aglow with love for the truth he emphasizes. In one way or another, you ought to help to keep your prayer-meeting fire agoing.—H. Clay Trumbull.

Changing Denominations Only for Loyalty to Truth

NO MAN should change from one Christian denomination to another except for one reason, viz., that loyalty to truth demands it. Several times within the last few years we have heard that Mr. A has become an E, or Mr. B has become a C. And no other reason was assigned than either that the B's treated him shabbily, or did not treat him well enough. Suppose a boy has a controversy with his teacher, which results in his finding himself at the radical end of the ferule. The boy goes home, saying, “I can't endure that teacher; therefore twice four is nine.” That is poor logic. It is exactly as good, however, as the reasoning of the minister who thinks within himself, “The Baptists have slighted me; therefore baptism came in the place of circumcision.” Or, again, “I find the Baptists uncongenial; therefore the apostles did baptize infants, and I will do the same.” Or, yet again, “I cannot bear close communion; therefore ‘baptize’ means to sprinkle.”

This seems to us the worst kind of logic; as bad as that Fenian logic which reasons thus: “My grandfather had to pay too much rent in Ireland; therefore I will murder some people in Canada.”—The Watchman.

Repeated Falsehood and the Depraved Conscience

It is a proverbial remark, and a just one, that “a liar will sometimes repeat the same falsehood so often that he will come to believe it himself.” He did not originally say it because he believed it, but by saying it he brought himself to believe it. The like takes place with many other sins besides lying; and a man will often succeed in thus convincing, not only himself, but others, of his “sincerity.” If you begin by neglecting the warnings of conscience, and acting against your own moral judgment, that judgment will in time become depraved and you will act on wrong principles.—Archbishop Whately.

Three “One Things.”

By A. S. Hutchins

Says David, “One thing have I desired of the Lord, that will I seek after; that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord, and to inquire in his temple.” Ps. 27: 4.

Here a blessing of no ordinary character is desired,—one which “shall not be valued with pure gold.” The mind is raised above earth and earthly treasures, to Him from whom all blessings flow. This desire includes the three following points: 1. That he might dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of his life; 2. To behold the beauty of the Lord; 3. That he might inquire in his temple. This desire implies that there are exquisite beauties connected with the service of the Lord, and that channels for the most fruitful and profitable inquiry are opened to the soul panting after God and holiness. This intimate and holy connection with the Most High and his service, enabling one to behold his divine power, and to experience the Saviour’s pardoning love brought to light and revealed through the plan of salvation, David did not expect would fall upon him without a consecrated effort on his part; hence the resolution, “That will I seek after.” Precious resolution!

Passing down to the days of the mission of the Son of God to this earth, we have the record of one born blind—one who had never looked upon one of his friends, nor seen the beauties of the Creator’s works everywhere spread out before us. The divine power of the Saviour opened these blind eyes, performing a miracle, and conferring a blessing hitherto unheard of. Surely this man’s faith in Christ and his decision of character must and will be tested. Where are the parents of this man? Are their hearts filled with gratitude, and are songs of thanksgiving upon their lips? Oh, no; nothing of this kind! They are too fearful of being disfellowshipped to say more than “We know that this is our son, and that he was born blind; but by what means he now seeth, we know not; or who hath opened his eyes, we know not; he is of age, ask him; he shall speak for himself.”

Where are the professedly pious and devout Jews? Do they laud and adore the Son of God for this miracle? No; they are filled with displeasure, anger, and revenge. Of him who performed this wonder, they say, “We know that this man is a sinner.” And further, they gave vent to the gall and wormwood of their hearts by saying to the one upon whom the miracle had been wrought, “Thou wast altogether born in sins.” And anon came his excommunication.

But now it is the time for the young man to speak: “One thing I know, that whereas I was blind, now I see.” John 9: 25. While the parents tremble with fear, and dare not acknowledge the solid convictions of their hearts, the son worships Jesus, separating himself from the parents, and connecting with the world’s Redeemer. How wise the choice! What untold treasures will greet his vision in the judgment, if he was faithful to the end.

Coming down to the Christian experience of the great apostle to the Gentiles, the genuineness of whose conversion is unquestioned, and whose commission was “to open their eyes, and to turn them from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God,” hungering for growth in grace, and perfection in the school of Christ, the language of his heart is, “Brethren, I count not myself to have apprehended; but this one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.” Phil. 3: 13, 14.

All the renown which might have encircled one so able and distinguished, all the honor which might have crowned him as a man of learning, influence, and official power among his people were left behind, forgotten. “But what things were gain to me, those I counted loss for Christ. Yea doubtless, and I count all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord; for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and do count them but dung, that I may win Christ.”

Here is self-denial. Here is a sacrifice, but it is one of gain and glory. Language is inadequate to express the depth of wisdom manifested in this exchange,—an exchange which in this life brings in return “a hundred-fold, . . . and in the world to come eternal life.” And who of us desires to dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of our life, that we may behold the beauty of the Lord, and that we may inquire in his temple? Who, once blinded by sin, can now see its heinousness, and with songs of joy behold the beauty of the Lord? And who, henceforth, will “press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus”?

Dear reader, will you receive and walk in the rays of light as they may fall upon you from the word of God? Will you, in the Christian warfare, “Endure hardness, as a good soldier of Jesus Christ”? Can you say, “What things were gain to me, those I counted loss for Christ”? Are you resolved, through grace, to be an overcomer? If so, bear in mind the words of the Captain of our salvation, “Be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.” “To him that overcometh will I grant to sit with me in my throne, even as I also overcame, and am set down with my Father in his throne.”

A. S. HUTCHINS.

Speak Reverently.

WHEN Prince Bismarck, the great German statesman, was a lad, his father once overheard him speaking of the emperor as “Fritz.” He reproved him for the familiarity, and added, “Learn to speak reverently of his majesty, and you will grow accustomed to think of him with veneration.”

The words made a deep impression on the boy, which was never effaced. Even in his old age he lowers his voice and assumes a respectful tone whenever he speaks of his sovereign. If a message is brought to him from the palace, either verbal or written, he always stands to receive it.

What a lesson is the custom of this great statesman to boys who speak so lightly, if not profanely, the name of the King of kings!

The fault is not confined to them. The growing irreverence of the age is very marked. The words of God are bandied about in the daily prints as lightly as if they were the words of the court-jester. Some fine-spun piece of political sarcasm, parodying some scene in Scripture, is often found in a morning paper, and is laughed over by thousands. The travesty will ever after be associated with the sacred words, especially in the minds of the young. A full-page picture in our best illustrated newspaper one morning represented St. Peter as seated in a great arm-chair before the gate of Heaven, with keys hanging by his side, busily reading the daily paper, and deciding not to admit certain parties. It was only one of many similar pictures. It is not enough that Christian parents should seek to hide their smiles over such caricatures, or should mildly deprecate the irreverence. They should set their faces like a flint against them. Such a course would be felt, as in the case of the prince.

It is very easy to lower our standard of reverence for anything. We have only to speak of it habitually in a light way. There is nothing like it to take the life out of the most precious texts of Scripture. We may repent of such sin with bitter weeping, but those words can never be to us again what they were before. We may have cut down a bridge we shall some day vainly long to cross.

A gentleman of keen wit used often to point his remarks with some apt quotation from the Bible. A friend who greatly admired him was present in his last hours, and asked with deep sympathy what was the future outlook.

“Very gloomy, indeed,” was his response.

Surprised and deeply pained, he hastened to quote some promises suited to the occasion.

“I have spoiled them all for myself,” was his answer. “There is not one but is associated with some jest.”

His light went out in darkness, though his name was on the church-roll. What a lesson is here for all who are willing to be taught by it! Lay it to heart.—The Life Boat.

Work: The Growing Aversion to Honest Labor

Work.

THERE is a growing aversion to honest hard work. Men and women scheme and calculate how to evade any such severe necessity. Besides, wants were never so many, and passion for fashionable living was never so general. Fashion is not only a giddy and heartless goddess, but to worship her in the use of her extended and tinselled ritual, requires a royal exchequer.

Now, it is impossible, simply and utterly impossible, for the bulk of the people to meet all the requirements of fashionable life, to come in proper equipment to every shrine of this extravagant goddess of fashion, and do it honorably and honestly, or by hard, earnest, fair toil. The result is that thousands of men and women, in their zeal for style and dress—for splendid gear and extravagant outfit—will turn away from the simple ways of life, and the simple, honest vocations by which a plain, decent livelihood is to be obtained, to trick and scheme, and so evade the severe necessities and discipline that honest labor imposes. We only state a fact when we say that an odium has come to rest on the plain and simpler industries. Men now are ashamed to plow, and sow, and reap. In the olden times to till the ground was a glory. Now the farmer is an amateur, and his work is done, not by his hands, nor his son's hands, but by the hands of a mere menial. His sons, instead, seek the “learned professions,” clerkships, agencies of insurance companies, berths as book-keepers and the like, and before their beards are grown they quit the country home, and air, and beauty, and crowd the cities, in quest of a “gentleman's” calling and a “gentleman's” life.

So it is with the young women. They must all, and they all will, be “ladies.” They must all have very white skin, very delicate little hands, very neat and “fashionable” forms, and their wardrobes must not lack even a ribbon, or latest style of shoe-lace. And where all this tends, and into what bad results it leads, we already see. Whenever people come to look upon work, no matter how humble and homely, as something to be endured, as something that is disgraceful, as something to be done only as a necessity, then we are threatened with most grave peril.

It is time this question was getting an earnest and vigorous handling. It is time heartless fashion got its rebuke. It is time to assail the foolish pride that induces young men to lounge and steal rather than cut wood or lay stones in a wall. It is time that young women who would sooner be “nice” than industrious, or dress nicely and glitter with jewelry than to work hard and be honest, were told of the ruin that threatens them.—Methodist Recorder.

A Lawyer’s Opinion of Law

A learned judge, being once asked how he would act if a man owed him ten pounds and refused to pay him, replied, “Rather than bring an action, with its costs and uncertainty, I would give him a receipt in full of all demands; yea, and I would send him, moreover, five pounds to cover all possible costs.”

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