Drawing Conclusions in the Dark

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“We should never pass judgment in overwhelming hours. Let a man accept the verdict of his Lord, but never the verdict of his melancholy.

Hours come when everything seems wrong and when all the lights of heaven are blotted out, and how often, in such desolate hours, do we fall to judging the universe and God! It is part of the conduct of the instructed soul to resist that as a temptation of the devil. Such hours are always unreliable.

The things that frighten us in the night are the things we smile at in the morning. We are like that traveler who in the fog thought he saw a ghost; when it came nearer, he found it was a man; and when it came up to him, it was his brother.

Overwhelming times are times for leaning; God does not mean them to be times for judging. They are given to us for trusting; they are not given to us for summing up. Leave that till the darkness has departed and the dawn is on the hills, and in His light we see light again.”

G. H. Morrison (1866-1928)

 

The Proof of God’s Love (Part 2)

A sermon by G. H. Morrison in Glasgow, Scotland, 1920.

(edited for length)

"God commendeth His own love to us," so the text reads. What is the love, then, that is commended so?

Like life, love is of many kinds. There is a love that ennobles and casts a radiance upon life. There is a love that drags the lover down into the mouth of hell. There is a love that many waters cannot quench. There is a love that is disguised lust. What kind of love then is God's love proved to be from His commendation of it?

And first, splendidly visible is this, it is a love that thought no sacrifice too great. The surest test of love is sacrifice. We measure love, as we should measure her twin-brother life, "by loss and not by gain, not by the wine drunk but by the wine poured forth." Look at the mother with her child. She sacrifices ease and sleep, and she would sacrifice life too for her little one, and she thinks nothing of it all, she loves her baby so. Think of the patriot and his country. He counts it joy to drain his dearest veins, he loves his land so well. Recall the scholar at his books. Amusements and sleep, he almost spurns them. His love for learning is so deep he hardly counts them loss. Yes, in the willingness to sacrifice all that is dearest lies the measure of the noblest love.

Turn now to Calvary, turn to the Cross, and by the sight of the crucified Redeemer there, begin to learn the greatness of God's love. Come, who is this that hangs between two thieves with pierced hands and feet? And who is this whose back is wealed with scars, whose face is fouled with spittle? Yes, who is this the passers-by are mocking? See, He is sorrowful even unto death. Hark, He cries, "My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?" (Matt. 27:46)

Wonder, O heavens, and be amazed, O earth; this is none other than God's only begotten Son. Did ever mother, did ever patriot, did ever human lover in the zeal of love make any sacrifice to be compared with that of God, when He gave His only begotten Son to shame and death that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish?

Ah! sir, measuring the love of God by such a test as this, we touch its height and depth and length and breadth, and then do we not cry out with Paul, "It passeth knowledge" (Eph. 3:19).

Again, I look at the love of God that our text speaks of, and now I see it is a love that never sprang from the sight of anything lovable in us. I suppose in this gathering to-day we have many loveless hearts. There are dead souls within this house of God to-day, all whose affections are slain. And yet I am sure of this, that in all this company there is not one heart but once has loved. Father or mother, son or daughter, husband or wife, once, if not now, you loved them. They were your heart's desire, to them your souls were knit.

Well, then, I want you now to recall that love again. I want you to try and trace it to its source. I want you to tell me whence it sprang. Was it the natural outflow of your heart, the welling-over of your nature regardless of the person loved? Or was it not rather some excellence, or worth, or beauty, some charm that made an indefinable appeal, that caught and held the tendrils of your heart? Yes, it was that. It was all you saw, and all you knew, and all you conjured, that drew your love out. You loved and you loved only, because you found those worthy to be loved.

And it is just here that, wide as the poles, God's love stands separated from all the love of men. "God commendeth His love, in that while we were yet sinners Christ died for us." God longs to love me into something lovable. But not for anything lovable in me did He love me first. While I was yet a sinner He loved me. While I hated Him He loved me. While I was fighting against Him in the rebellious years He loved me. If we love Him, it is because He first loved us (1 John 4:19). Such causeless love is wonderful, passing the love of women.

Again I turn to the love of God our text speaks of, and now I see it is a love splendid in its righteousness. Some of the saddest tragedies in human life spring from the moral weakness of the deepest love. How many a mother who would have laid her life down for her son, she loved him so, has only helped him down the road to ruin by the immoral weakness of her love. How many a father, to spare his own heart the bitter agony of punishing his child, has let his child grow up unchastened. Such love as that is fatal. Sooner or later it tarnishes the thought of fatherhood in the child's eyes. For in his views of fatherhood the child can find no place now for earnest hatred of the wrong, and passionate devotion to the right; and so the image of fatherhood is robbed of all its powers.

Brethren, I do not hesitate to say, that if out of the page of history you wipe the atoning death on Calvary, you carry that tragedy of weakness into the very heavens. Blot out the Cross and I, a child of heaven, can never be uplifted and inspired by the thought of the Divine Fatherhood again. Yes, I have sinned, and know it. I deserve chastisement, and know it. And shall my Father never whisper a word of punishment? and never breathe His horror at my fall? And will He love me, and be kind to me right through it all without a word of warning? I tell you the moment I would believe that, the glory of the Divine Fatherhood is tarnished for me; God's perfect love of goodness and awful hatred of the wrong are dimmed; and all the impulse and enthusiasm these divine passions bring sink out of my life for ever.

But when I turn to Calvary, and to that awful death I see a love as righteous as it is wonderful. Sin must be punished, although the Well-beloved has to die. And the divine anger at iniquity must be revealed, though the curse fall upon the Son of God. The awful sight of that atoning death assures me of the perfect righteousness of God in the very moment that it assures me of His love. I see the divine hatred of iniquity; I see the divine need that sin be punished; I see the divine sanction of everlasting law in the very glance that commends to me the everlasting love.

And now with renewed trust I cast myself into the arms of that heavenly love. With heart and soul and strength and mind I accept it as it is commended to me upon the Cross. I live rejoicing in the Fatherhood of God. I go to every task and every trial assured of this, that neither height, nor depth, nor life nor death, nor any other creature can separate me from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus, my Lord. (Romans 8:39). Amen.

The Proof of God’s Love (Part 1)

The Proof of God's Love

A sermon by G.H. Morrison in Glasgow, Scotland, 1920

(edited for length)

"God commendeth His love towards us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us." - Romans 5:8.

What is it to “commend?” It is to exhibit, to demonstrate, to prove. This, then, must be our theme to-day, the Cross of Calvary viewed as the unanswerable proof of the love of God. 

There are some attributes of God that need no proof. Some features of the Divine character are so universally conspicuous as to be self-evidencing. Think, for example, of God's power. If we believe in God at all we need no argument to convince us of His power. The mighty forces that engirdle us all cry aloud of that. The chambers of the deep, the chariot of the sun, are stamped with it. The devastating march of winter's storm, and, none the less, the timely calling of all the summer's beauty out of the bare earth, these things, and a thousand other things like these, teach us the power of God. We would not need the Cross if all that had to be proved was the Divine omnipotence.

Or take the wisdom of God. Is any argument needed to assure us in general of that? None. "Day unto day uttereth speech of it, and night unto night showeth forth its glory" (Psa. 19:2). Our bodies, so fearfully and so wonderfully made; our senses, linking us so strangely to the world without; our thought, so swift, so incomprehensible; and all the constancy of Nature, and all the harmony of part with part, and all the obedience of the starry worlds, and all the perfections of the wayside weed; these things, and a multitude of things like these, speak to the thinking mind of the wisdom of God.  That wisdom needs no formal proof. We would not need the Cross if all that had to be proved was the wisdom of God.

The love of God is not self-evident. It is not stamped upon creation like His power. It is not written on the nightly heavens like His wisdom. Nay, on the contrary, if it be a fact, it is a fact against which a thousand other facts are fighting.

Let me mention one or two of these things that have made it hard for men to believe in the love of God. One is the tremendous struggle for existence that is ceaselessly waged among all living things. Man fights with man, and beast with beast. To the seeing eye the world is all a battlefield, and every living creature in it is in arms, and fighting for its life.

Sir, can you wonder that men who have known all that, and nothing more than that, have ceased to believe in the love of God? Can you marvel that he who has no other argument for God's love than what Nature gives him, rejects as mockery the thought of the Divine compassion?

Or think again. There are the problems of human pain and sorrow and bereavement. Is it not very hard to reconcile these darker shadows with the light of heavenly love?  Can God be love, and never move a finger to ease your little child when he is screaming day and night in fearful agony? Ah! sir, you have had such thoughts as that. Confess them. When from your arms your dearest joy is torn away; when those who would not harm a living creature are bowed for years under intolerable pain, and when the wicked or the coarse seem to get all they wish, who has not cried, "Can God be love if He permits all this? How can God say He loves me, and yet deal with me as I could never have the heart to deal with one I loved?"

Brethren, it is such facts as these that call for some unanswerable proof if we are to believe that God is love. And it is that proof which is afforded us in the Crucifixion of Christ Jesus. "God commendeth His love towards us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us" (Romans 5:8)

The story of Nature may seem to tell against this truth that every heart hungers to believe. And the experiences of life may often seem to fight against it too. But as we read the story of that atoning death, all doubts are overborne. Nothing but love, love wonderful, love matchless, will explain the Cross.

When we have gazed in faith upon the Cross of Christ, we never can seriously doubt the love of God again. I do not mean that difficulties vanish. I do not say that problems disappear. Much that was dark before remains dark still; but now we bow the head and say we know in part, and with patience wait to be satisfied in the morning. We can be ignorant and dark and even fretful still, but we can never doubt the love of God again.

Love must be proved by deeds and not by words. No mere profession of the lip will ever satisfy the heart that longs to know another's love. Love's argument is service. Love's commendation lies in sacrifice. If you or I by any act suspect that we are hated, it is not any word, however warm, will ever blot that suspicion out. It is only some deed of love, clear, unmistakable, that will have power to do that.

See, then, the wisdom of our God. It is the facts of nature and of life, of history and of experience, that make it so hard to believe His love. He knows it all, and so the proof He offers of His love is a fact too. Facts must be met by facts. And all the dark facts in the world's story, God overwhelms by the great fact of Calvary. Yes, God so loved the world…not that He said or thought, but that He gave. Thanks be to Him for that.

Here is no word. Here is no empty protestation. Here is a deed tremendous, matchless, irresistible, and every opposing argument is silenced.

One other word before I leave this aspect of the case. The Bible does not say, “God commended,” it does not say, “God has commended;” it uses the perpetual present and says, God commendeth. There are some proofs for the being and attributes of God that serve their purpose, and then pass away. There are arguments that appeal to us in childhood, but lose their power in our maturer years. And there are proofs that may convince one generation, and yet be of little value to the next. Not a few evidences, such as that from design, which were very helpful to you, believer of an older school, are well-nigh worthless to your thinking son, imbued with the teaching of the present day.

But there is one argument that stands unshaken through every age and every generation. It is the triumphant argument of the Cross of Christ. Knowledge may widen, thought may deepen, theories may come and go; yet in the very center, unshaken and unshakable, stands Calvary, the lasting commendation of the love of God. To all the sorrowing and to all the doubting, to all the bitter and to all the eager, to every youthful heart, noble and generous, to every weary heart, burdened and dark, to-day and here, as 1900 years ago to all like hearts in Rome, "God commendeth His love, in that while we were yet sinners Christ died for us."

Some Thoughts on The Cross

I don’t have “The Blessing of Hunger, Part 2” ready for you yet, but this is the week in which we especially remember Christ’s suffering and death on our behalf.  In honor of that, I wanted to share some of my favorite quotes about the Cross.

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You have not the making of your own cross, although unbelief is a master carpenter at cross-making; neither are you permitted to choose your own cross, although self-will would fain be lord and master; but your cross is prepared and appointed for you by divine love, and you are cheerfully to accept it.

 

Jesus was a cross-bearer; he leads the way in the path of sorrow.  Surely you could not desire a better guide!  And if he carried a cross, what nobler burden would you desire?

Beloved, the cross is not made of feathers, or lined with velvet, it is heavy and galling to disobedient shoulders; but it is not an iron cross, though your fears have painted it with iron colours, it is a wooden cross, and a man can carry it, for the Man of sorrows tried the load. Take up your cross, and by the power of the Spirit of God you will soon be so in love with it, that like Moses, you would not exchange the reproach of Christ for all the treasures of Egypt. Remember that Jesus carried it, and it will smell sweetly; remember that it will soon be followed by the crown, and the thought of the coming weight of glory will greatly lighten the present heaviness of trouble. The Lord help you to bow your spirit in submission to the divine will ere you fall asleep this night, that waking with to-morrow’s sun, you may go forth to the day’s cross with the holy and submissive spirit which becomes a follower of the Crucified.

Spurgeon

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It is not necessary for any man to make a cross; it is our part simply to take up that which God has laid down for us.  The cross is the constant refusal to gratify our self-life; the perpetual dying to pride and self-indulgence, in order to follow Christ.  When we live only to save ourselves, to build warm nests, to avoid every discomfort and annoyance, to make money entirely for our own use and enjoyment, to invent schemes for our own pleasure, we become the most discontented and miserable of mankind.  How many there are who have given themselves up to a life of selfishness and pleasure-seeking, only to find their capacity for joy has shriveled, and their lives have plunged into gloom and despair.  They have lost their souls!

F. B. Meyer

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You will never fathom the bravery of Christ unless you bear in mind that Christ was sinless. For sin is always coarsening and deadening—"it hardens all within and petrifies the feeling." And it is when we think that Jesus Christ was sinless, and being sinless was exquisitely sensitive, that we come to realize the matchless fortitude that carried Him without a falter to the cross.

G. H. Morrison

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21st-Century Tech and 19th-Century Preachers

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At various points throughout the life of this blog, readers have asked questions about how I study the Bible and where I find all of Morrison’s wonderful writings.  The answers to those two questions are intertwined, so I’m combining them today.

My main study Bible is the eSword electronic version.  It is a free download in its basic form with non-copyrighted Bible versions, but you can also download additional materials such as other translations of the Bible, devotionals, commentaries, Bible dictionaries, maps, and other valuable resources.  Some are free, others are not.  The daily devotionals have been a very rich resource for me, particularly the Morrison and Spurgeon ones.  Yes, that’s right, it’s through eSword that I discovered Morrison.  Since it’s not easy to find Morrison’s writings online, it’s worth the download just to get those devotionals.

One of the things I like to do with my eSword is to take copious notes.  You can write long notes for any verse and have them available right beside the text.  I often copy entire devotional entries into the corresponding verses’ note pages, giving rich insights every time I visit those verses. 

There are many other features of this Bible that are quite useful and helpful, but I will stop with simply recommending that you visit the eSword site and investigate it for yourself.

Another very nice downloadable Bible program is simply called “The Word,” and it’s worth checking out as well.

Whenever I’m away from home, I always have a Bible handy, thanks to MyBible 4 from Laridian Publishing.  If you use a handheld Palm, Windows, IPod or Blackberry device, you’ll want to check this program out.  I wrote earlier about how I use the Scripture Memory program that you can also download from this site, so I won’t go into that again.  Laridian also offers devotionals, dictionaries, and commentaries, as well as free and paid translations of the Bible, all for your handheld.  I highly recommend this resource.

Another excellent resource is the Christian Classics Ethereal Library.  The CCEL is for online use, but it has features you’d often expect only from a downloadable program (such as the ability to highlight text.  Your highlights will be remembered whenever you sign in).  CCEL offers a wide variety of classic Christian literature, going all the way back to the 1st Century, and moving up to extensive libraries of the greats like Jonathan Edwards, John Owen, John Bunyan, Charles Spurgeon, and more!  Definitely an invaluable resource for those of us who could never dream of amassing our own vast printed libraries.

Now it’s your turn.  Have you found any “Helpful Tech” that you’d like to share?  Or do you have any further comments on the ones discussed above?  Please leave your thoughts for us to enjoy.

The Wonder of Our Daily Bread

In these uncertain times, in which matters great and small fill our hearts and minds with very real concerns, I find comfort in the simply profound truths written below.  They help us appreciate the greatness of God’s “simple gifts,” and also give us hope that our own small lives matter more than we may realize.  I hope these words are a help to you as well.

 

Every Harvest Is Prophecy

G.H. Morrison on Matt. 6:11 (Edited for length)

The Tiniest Petitions

“When you read it unimaginatively, ‘Give us this day our daily bread’ seems an almost trifling petition. It almost looks like an intruder here. On the one side of it (Matt. 6:10) there is the will of God, reaching out into the height of heaven. On the other side of it (Matt. 6:12) there are our sins, reaching down into unfathomed depths. And then, between these two infinities, spanning the distance from cherubim to Satan, there is ‘Give us this day our daily bread.’ Our sin runs back to an uncharted past, but in this petition there is no thought of yesterday. The will of God shall be for evermore, but in this petition there is no tomorrow.  As if some hill that a child could climb should be set down between two mighty Alps, so seems this prayer for our daily bread between the will of the eternal God, and the cry for pardon for our sins whose roots go down into the depths of hell.

But now suppose you take this prayer and set it in the light of harvest. Give us this day our daily bread—can you tell me what is involved when it is answered? Why, if you but realized it, and caught the infinite range of its relationships, never again would it be insignificant. For all the ministry of spring is in it, and all the warmth and glory of the summer. And night and day, and heat and cold, and frost, and all the falling of the rain. And light that has come from distances unthinkable, and breezes that have blown from far away, and powers of nourishment that for years have been preparing in the mother earth.  Is it a little thing to get a piece of bread? Is it so little that it is out of place here where we are moving in the heights and depths? Not if you set it in the light of harvest.

I think then there is a lesson here about the greatness of the things we pray for. Our tiniest petitions might seem large, if we only knew what the answer would involve. There are things which you ask for which seem little things. Yet could you follow out that prayer of yours, you might find it calling for the power of heaven as mightily as the conversion of the nations.  You are lonely, and you pray to God that He would send a friend into your life. And then some day to you there comes that friend, perhaps in the most casual of meetings. Yet who shall tell the countless prearrangements, before there was that footfall on the threshold which has made all the difference in the world to you?

Give us this day our daily bread, and the sunshine and the storm are in the answer. Give us a friend, and perhaps there was no answer saving for omniscience and omnipotence. Now we know in part and see in part, but when we know even as we are known we shall discover all that was involved in the answer to our humblest prayers.

The Toil It Cost

In the second place, in the light of harvest think of the toil that lies behind the gift.

Now and then a gift is given us which touches us in a peculiar way, because we recognize the toil it cost. It may be given us by a child perhaps, or it may be given us by some poor woman. And it is not beautiful, nor is it costly, nor would it fetch a shilling in the market. And yet to us who know the story of it, and how the hands were busied in the making, it may be beautiful as any diadem. 

I want you then to take that thought and to apply it to your daily bread. It is a gift, and yet behind that gift do you remember all the toil there is?  Daily bread is more divine than manna for, like manna, it is the gift of heaven, and yet we get it not till arms are weary and sweat has broken on the human brow. I think of the ploughman with his steaming horses driving his furrow in the heavy field. I think of the sower going forth to sow. I think of the stir and movement of the harvest. I think of the clanking of the threshing mill, and of the dusty grinding of the corn, and of all those who in our bakeries are toiling in the night when we are sleeping.

And is it not generally in such ways that our most precious gifts are given us? Every good and perfect gift is from above, yet is there something of heart-blood on them all. A noble painting is a precious gift. It is a thing of beauty and a joy forever.  So is it with every noble poem; so with our civil and religious liberty. They are all gifts to us; they come from God; they are ours to cherish and enjoy. Yet every one of them is wet with tears, and charactered with human toil and pain, and oftentimes, like the Messiah's garment, dipped in the final ministry of blood. Into that fellowship of lofty gifts I want you, then, to put your daily bread. It is not little, nor is it insignificant when you remember all that lies behind it.

By Lowly Hands

Lastly, in the light of harvest think of the hands through which the gift is given. ‘Give us this day our daily bread’ we pray, and then through certain hands it is bestowed. Whose hands? Are they the hands of the illustrious, or of those whose names are famous in the world? All of you know as well as I do that it is not thus our bread is ministered; it reaches us by the hands of lowly men. Out of his cottage does the reaper come, and back to his cottage does he go at evening. And we halt a moment, and we watch him toiling under the autumn sunshine in the field. But what his name is, or where he had his birth, or what are his hopes and what his tragedies, of that we know absolutely nothing. So was it with the sower in the spring, and the harvester in autumn. They have no chronicle, nor any luster, nor any greatness in the eyes of man. And what I want you to realize is this, that when God answers this universal prayer, it is such hands as these that he employs.  Are there not tens of thousands who are nameless, toiling, sorrowing, rejoicing, dying, and never raising a ripple on the sea? Give us this day our daily bread—it is by such hands that the prayer is answered. It is by these that the Almighty Father shows that He is hearkening to His children. It is His recognition of obscurity.

Perhaps we shall never know how life is beautified and raised and glorified by those who toil in undistinguished fashion. Such men may never write great poems, but it is they who make great poems possible. Such may never do heroic things, but they are the soil in which the seed is sown. Such men will not redeem the world. It takes the incarnate Son of God for that. But they—the peasants and the fishermen—will carry forth the music to humanity. Give us this day our daily bread. Are there not multitudes who are praying so?

And you, you have no genius, no gifts? You are an obscure and ordinary person ? But if there is any meaning in our text, set in the light of sowing and of harvest, it is that the answer to that daily prayer will be vouchsafed through lowly folk like you.”

G.H. Morrison (1866-1928)

Trifles and Triumphs

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I read something from my beloved G. H. Morrison devotional today that seemed to dovetail perfectly with my previous two posts.  I already had a different devotional scheduled to post today, but it will have to wait.  I want to share this with you.

Morrison was opening up the grandeur of Matt. 10:42, showing the great importance which Christ placed on simple, lowly acts of service.  I read it all with pleasure, but was stopped in my tracks by this particular sentence (emphasis added):

“Great hours reveal our possibilities;

Common hours reveal our consecration.”

Oh, how I dream of great hours!  I long to do heroic deeds, or at least fill my heart with heroic feelings.  And how I heap disdain on common moments and common tasks!  How easily I convince myself that they don’t matter at all, and that it’s perfectly fine to neglect and waste them altogether.

I want to believe in my possibilities.

God wants my consecration.

Do you want to know how consecrated you are?  How devoted?  How set apart and committed?  Do I want to know this about myself? 

Then you and I need to look at how we approach the commonplace.  As Morrison points out:

"Life is not a little bundle of big things, but a big bundle of little things…And for our Lord the ‘usual’ was the big thing, because the ‘usual’ is nine-tenths of life.”

We love the special “Holy Places” in our lives, the places where God touched us in a special way.  We treasure memories of the times when He met with us almost tangibly.  And it’s right that we should love them.  But if those are the only places and times which we devote to God, then we neglect the great majority of our existence.  We may have consecrated times and places, but we do not have consecrated lives.

Isn’t He with us every moment, even when we don’t know it?

If we can’t feel that He’s there, does His presence matter?

What does King Solomon tell us?

He has made everything beautiful in its time (Ec. 3:11).

How does He do that?

I believe He does it sometimes, to a small degree, during our physical lives.  But mostly this is a promise for that eternal Day in which every moment will unfold itself to reveal new beauties we had not seen before.  And each new beauty will really be an old one, because it will be but another facet of our glorious Lord revealed more fully to us.  Jesus will show us His beautifying touches on every moment of our earthly lives.  When we see His good purpose for our every experience, His faithfulness through our every trial, His presence in our every activity, we will see each moment robed in splendor.  Even a cup of cold water given in His name will shine forever.

Morrison says:

“To neglect the trifle is to miss the triumph.  A tiny snowflake is as exquisitely beautiful as all the splendid pageantry of sunrise.”

Every moment touched by God, no matter how trivial it may seem on this earth, will reveal itself to be as rare and beautiful a masterpiece as the tiny snowflakes He lavishes on us so extravagantly.

Every moment lived for God can be enjoyed, even if it’s also painful, if we truly understand this mystery.  Each second is a gift which flutters past us like snow’s airy crystals, and because we don’t look closely enough, we can’t see the astonishing detail and depth and loveliness of it.

But under the microscope of eternity, what wonders will we see?

Oh Father, help us have eyes to see and ears to hear!  Help us to forget the idea of the “mundane” and the “trivial.”  May we see each moment as an unopened treasure, one which we barely glimpse as it goes by, which is then stored up in Heaven for us to enjoy in its full grandeur for all eternity.  May we offer each moment, even the painful ones, back to You with joyful appreciation for the wonders that they are.  For you are the One who makes everything…even every common hour…beautiful in its time.

Love and Self-Denial

I haven't been able to write the follow-up for the previous post on bitterness...in fact, I haven't been able to write much of anything at all. Writer’s block happens. But I couldn’t let Valentine’s Day go by without posting something with a God-centered love theme. As usual, I found good stuff to chew on from G. H. Morrison this morning, and I wanted to share it with you. (All emphasis added by me. Some content edited out because of length.)

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Bring an offering, and come into his courts. Ps. 96:8

During worship there are certain demands made of every worshipper. There are certain elements which must be present if the worship is to be in spirit and in truth. There is, for instance, the attitude of thanksgiving for the goodness of God to us from day to day. There is the sense of spiritual need and the knowledge that none but God can meet that need. There is the sense of indebtedness to Christ who loved us and gave Himself for us, in whose death is our only hope and in whose Spirit is our only strength. All these attitudes must meet and mingle if our worship is to be really worship. Without them, a man may come to church and go away no better than he came.

But there is another attitude, not less important yet which is very frequently ignored, and that is the attitude of self-sacrifice. We all know that worship calls for praise, but we must remember it also calls for self-denial.

Love Offerings

To begin with, that element of sacrifice is seen in the matter of the money offerings. "Bring an offering, and come into his courts." No Jew came to his worship empty-handed. To give of his means was part of his devotions. Of the thirteen boxes in the Temple treasury, four were for the free-will offerings of the people. And this fine spirit of ancient worship passed over into the worship of the Church and was enormously deepened and intensified by the new thought of the sacrifice of Christ. "Thanks be unto God for His unspeakable gift"—that was the mainspring of Christian liberality. It was the glowing thought of all that Christ had given which motivated the poorest to be givers too.

Now while all such offerings were acceptable to God and while all brought a blessing to the giver, yet from earliest times it was felt by spiritual men that the true offertory must touch on self-denial. You remember the abhorrence of King David against offering to God that which had cost him nothing. And we have read of Jesus Christ and of His opinion of the widow's mite and of all the riches that He found in that because there was self-denial in her giving. Brethren, that is the mark of Christian giving. It reaches over into self-denial. I do not think we give in the spirit of Jesus until like Him we touch on self-denial, until His love constrains us to some sacrifice as it constrained Him to the sacrifice of all.

Let us then seriously ask ourselves—have we been giving to the point of sacrifice? Have we ever denied ourselves of anything that we might bring an offering and come into His courts? It is only thus that giving is a joy, only thus it brings us nearer Christ, only thus is it a means of grace as spiritual and as strengthening as prayer.

The Truest Offering Is in the Heart

Think in the first place of the case of David, a man who had been trained in ritual worship. You may be sure that from his earliest years he had never worshipped with that which cost him nothing. He had brought his offering, and he had paid for it, and he had denied himself that he might pay for it. The God whom he had found when he was shepherding was not a God to be worshipped cheaply. And then there came his kingship and his fall and the terrible havoc of his kingly character, and David found that all the blood of goats could not make him a true worshipper again. The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit—a broken and a contrite heart. Let him give his kingdom for an offering, and he would not be an acceptable worshipper. He must give himself—he must deny his lusts—he must lay aside his pride and be repentant, or all his worship would be mockery and the sanctuary a barren place for him.

Christ's Teaching on Sacrifice

Now turn to David's greater Son, and listen to the words of Christ Himself. He is speaking in the Sermon on the Mount about bringing the offering to the altar: "Therefore, if thou bring thy gift to the altar and there rememberest that thy brother hath aught against thee, leave there thy gift before the altar and go thy way. First be reconciled to thy brother and then come and offer thy gift." Now note that Jesus is talking about worship. His theme is not the patching up of quarrels. He is teaching us what attitudes are needed if we are to worship God in spirit and in truth. And not only does He insist on giving—He takes that, we may say, for granted—but He insists that at the back of every gift there should be the self-denial of the heart. It is far easier to give up a coin than it is to give up a quarrel. It is easier to lay down a generous offering than to lay down a long-continued grudge. And Jesus Christ insists that if worship is to be acceptable to God, the worshipper must lay aside his pride and humble himself as a little child. That is not easy—it never can be easy. That is far from natural to man. It is hard to do and bitter and opposed to natural inclination. And it calls for patience and interior sacrifice and prayerful, if secret, self-denial; and only thus, according to the Master, can one hope to be an acceptable worshipper.

Who, then, is sufficient for these things? That is just what I want to impress upon you, that worship is not easy; it is hard. It is not just a comfortable hour on Sunday with beautiful music and a fluent preacher; it is an attitude of heart and soul that is impossible without self-denial. I thank God that in the purest worship there is little demand upon the intellect. The humblest saint who cannot write a word may experience all the blessings of the service. But there is a demand upon the soul; there is a call to sacrifice and cross-bearing, for the road to church is like the road to heaven—it lies past the shadow of the cross.

Worship and Fellowship

In public worship we are not simply hearers; we are a fellowship of Christian people. You may go to a lecture just to hear the lecturer or to the theater just to see a play. It doesn't matter who is there beside you. Not one of them would do a hand's turn for you or seek to help you if you were in difficulty or visit you if you were sick. At the theater there is an audience, but not so in the church. In any sanctuary that is blessed by the presence of the Lord, it is a fellowship of men and women bound together by their common faith and loving one another in Christ Jesus.

Now, in every fellowship must not there be a certain element of sacrifice? Isn't it so in the home, if home is to be more than a mockery? And it must also be so in the fellowship of worship… a constant willingness to forgo a little for the sake of others for whom Christ has died. The young have their rights, but they should not insist on them when they know it would vex and irritate the old. The old have their claims, but for the sake of the young, they will accept what may not appeal to them. And when a hymn is sung or the word is preached which seems to have no message for one worshipper, that worshipper will always bear in mind that for someone else that is the word in season. All that is of the essence of true worship and calls for a little sacrifice. A happy home is impossible without it, and so also a happy congregation. A tender regard for others by our side, with the denial that is involved in that, is an integral part of public worship.

Our Approach to God

The same truth is still more evident when we think of worship as our approach to God by the new and living way of Jesus Christ. Now it is true that we were made for God and that in Him we live and move and have our being. Yet such is the immersion in the world even of the most prayerful and most watchful that the approach to God with the whole heart demands a concentrated effort. Of course, we may come to church and be in church and never know the reality of worship. We may think our thoughts and dream our dreams and in spirit be a thousand miles away. But to quietly reject intruding thoughts and give ourselves to prayer and praise and reading is not always easy, and for some it is incredibly hard. If there were anything to rivet our attention, that would make all the difference in the world. In a theater we can forget ourselves, absorbed in the excitement of the play. But the church of the living God is not a theater, and in the day when it becomes theatrical, in that day its worship will be gone. If we want to wander, we can always wander. There is nothing here to rivet our attention. There are only a few hymns and a quiet prayer and the simple reading and expounding of Scripture. And it is for each one of us to make the needed effort and shut the gates and withdraw ourselves, and through that very effort comes the blessedness of the public worship of God in Jesus Christ. It is thus that worship becomes a heavenly feast—when we discipline our will to it. It is thus that worship becomes a means of grace in a hard-driven and hectic week. If it is to be a blessing, we must deny ourselves and take up our cross; we must bring an offering of sacrifice and come into His courts.

G.H. Morrison

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On this day when we celebrate love, let’s remember to love our Lord as He deserves. Then love for others will naturally overflow.

Morrison on Ps. 62:1

I've been struggling with discouragement this morning. To be honest, it's been building up for a couple of days, partly as a result of worldwide and national events, and partly because of more personal matters. But it seems to have settled on my shoulders most heavily today.

The Lord knew just what I needed to read in my daily devotions, and I thought I'd pull out some excerpts to share with you.  This is a synopsis of a devotional by G. H. Morrison.

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Leaving It There
"Leave it all quietly to God, my soul." Ps. 62:1 (Moffatt translation)

Much of the joy of childhood springs from the trustful relationship to somebody who says, "Leave all that to me."

We are not here just to understand. Now we know in part and see in part. We are here to glorify God by trusting Him even when we do not understand. And such trusting carries its own evidences in the rich inward peace it brings as if our life were in tune with the Eternal. "My meat is to do the will of him that sent me.(John 4:34)" His meat was neither to probe nor to expostulate. When the cup was bitter, when the cross was heaviest, when the lights were darkened in the Garden of Gethsemane—He left it all quietly to God.

The opposite of faith is never reason; the opposite of faith is sight.  Someday we shall arrive and understand. We shall see His face and His name shall be on our foreheads—it shall be written out in the region of the brain. Meantime we have a life to live, a heart to cultivate, a service to perform. "What is that to thee—follow thou me."

Again, we are to remember the psalmist's counsel in the hours when we have done our best—and failed. The higher the service that we seek to render, the more are we haunted by the sense of failure. The man who has no goal doesn't fear failure. But in higher ministries, when soul is touching soul and we are working not in things, but lives, how haunting is the sense of failure. Every Sunday School teacher knows it well, every mother with her growing family, and every preacher of the Gospel. So little accomplished, so little difference made, so little fruit for the laborious toil, although the seed sown may have been steeped in prayer. Well then, are we to give up in discouragement? Are we to leave the battle line and be spectators because we hear no cheering sound of triumph? My dear reader, there is a better way, and it is just the old way of this gallant psalmist—"Leave it all quietly to God, my soul."

Often when we fail, we are succeeding. We are doing more than we have dreamed. We are helping with our rough, coarse hands because Another with a pierced hand is there. Do your best, and do it for His sake. Keep on doing it and don't resign. And as to fruitage and harvest and success—leave it all quietly to Him.

Morrison on Psalm 19:12

Morrison on Psalm 19:12

"Think of the way in which children grow. How silently they creep towards their heritage! It Image by sean dreilinger via Flickrseems but yesterday since they were little infants and busied with the first stammerings of speech. And today they are fighting their battle with the world, and the mystery of life has touched them, and they are launched into the boundless deep—and still are children in their mother's eyes. We are all rocked to sleep by what is gradual. We let ourselves be tricked by what is silent. We miss the message of God times without number because He whispers in a still small voice.

And just as we are often dulled towards God, so are we dulled to our besetting sin, for it has grown so gradually and strengthened with our strength and never startled us with any uproar. It is easy to see the sins of other people, because in a moment they are displayed to us. We see them not in the slowness of their growth, but in the sudden flash of their fulfillment. We see them as we see some neighbor's child whom for a year or two we have not set our eyes on, and then we say, "How the child has grown; I never would have recognized him!" That is how we can detect our neighbor's sin. That is how we fail to see our own. It has grown with us and lived in the same home and sat at the same table all the time—until today we are living such a life as God knows we never meant to live, and tampering with conscience and with purity as God knows we never dreamed to do. Had the thing leapt on us like a wild animal we should have aroused our manhood to resist it.

But the most deadly evils do not leap on us. Image via WikipediaThe most deadly evils creep on us. And it is that slow and silent growth of all that at last is mighty to confound which lulls men into the strange security which always is the associate of self-ignorance."

G. H. Morrison (1866-1928)

Where the Spirit of the Lord is...

Now the Lord is the Spirit;
and where the Spirit of the Lord is,
there is liberty.
(2Co 3:17)

The following quote is from George H. Morrison (1866-1928).
I hope it blesses you as it blesses me.

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Image by RogelSM via Flickr

"It is not freedom to do just as we please
in defiance of all the laws that girdle us.
[T]he paradox of Christianity is this,
that [freedom] comes through obedience to Christ.

Think of the schoolgirl practicing her music.
Is not that the weariest of bondage?
Is this the happy face we saw so lately,
flushed with the eager merriment of play?

But set down the musical genius at the instrument,
and get him to interpret some great master,
and the thoughts which he utters are the master's thoughts,
and yet he is magnificently free.

The child is in bondage, the genius is at liberty.
The child is unnatural; the genius is himself.
The child is slaving under an outward law.
The genius has the spirit of the master.

And 'if any man have not the spirit of Christ,'
then, says the Scripture, 'he is none of His.'"

Image via Wikipedia

Psalm 91:10-11 "In Other Words"

"In Other Words" Tuesday

What does this mean?

Surely no one reading this, at least no one who has been a Christian for any length of time, can say that they have lived a charmed life since coming to Christ. We know that no verse is a magic wand that we can wave over our lives and guarantee ourselves a walk down Easy Street. We've hobbled along life's hot asphalt long enough, and gotten enough blisters, to know better.

And yet, this is the Word of God! And not one jot or tittle of it will pass away until all is fulfilled (Matt. 5:18). His word is like silver tried in a furnace, purified seven times (Psa. 12:6).

Maybe we just have to live a holy enough life to make this verse work for us. Maybe our problems are all because of our sins. That's what the modern-day "Prosperity Gospel" would have us believe. You're supposed to lie on a bed of roses, and if that isn't happening to you, it must be because you don't have enough faith. (Prove your faith by sending that preacher money, and you'll be blessed for sure!) Surely, according to this kind of teaching, the more you see of holiness in a person's life, the more they'll be rolling in money, health, and comfort.

Right?

Well, let's put that theory to the test in the crucible of Scripture. Today's passage is quoted twice in the New Testament, once in Matthew and once in Luke. Both were re-tellings of the same incident. Do you remember what it was?

It was Satan's temptation of Christ (See Matt. 4:5-6). Satan wanted Christ to claim this promise selfishly, to use it for His own purposes instead of remaining in submission to the Father.

Jesus refused.

He was the holy Son of God, in whom was no sin (1 Peter 2:22). Was His life a bed of roses?

He bore the lifelong stigma of illegitimacy. His family was obscure and poor. He had to work by the sweat of his brow for the bread that he ate. For the three years of His active ministry he did not have a home of his own. He had no riches. He went about doing good, healing and forgiving and saving and even raising the dead. He received accolades from some, but endless persecution, ridicule, slander, and blasphemy from others. Eventually He was arrested on trumped-up charges, condemned by an unjust court, beaten and scourged within an inch of his life, and crucified.

Did evil befall Him?

Can we say it was because He lacked faith?

Some would say that He suffered so that we would never have to suffer. But is that what Jesus said?

"Then they will deliver you up to tribulation and kill you, and you will be hated by all nations for My name's sake." (Mat 24:9) Please also read Matt. 10:22-25.

And what was the experience of His disciples? Every one was persecuted, beaten, imprisoned. All but one were martyred, and the other one died in exile.

The apostle Paul said that through Christ he had the power to (among other things) be abased, to be hungry, and to suffer need (Php. 4:12-13). Please also see Col. 1:24 and 2Tim. 3:12.


One has only to read "Foxe's Book of Martyrs," or tune in to "Voice of the Martyrs" to see that persecution and suffering have been the norm for Christians throughout the ages. Our few centuries of religious freedom in America and other Westernized countries is an anomaly, one that's not likely to last much longer.

Where is Psalm 91 in all of this? What happened to "No evil shall befall you?"

Perhaps it would help if we understood God's perspective of evil a bit better. Morrison (1866-1928) gives us some help here. He doesn't actually address evil here, but rather death itself. Yet his insights are very helpful. He says in his comments on Mark 5:39:

For Christ spiritual death was more real than physical death. Hence the latter he called sleep. [Mere physical death] was life, though it was life asleep, in the mighty arms of the eternal God, and death was something more terrible than that. The maiden is not dead, but sleepeth; but— this my son was dead and is alive again (Luke 15:24). The maiden is not dead, but sleepeth; but— let the dead bury their dead (Matt 8:22). The maiden is not dead, but sleepeth; but— he who believeth upon Me, though he were dead, yet shall he live (John 11:25). Christ did not find the dead in Jairus' house, nor in any sepulchre among the Galilean hills. He saw the dead where men and women were...who have a name to live and yet are dead."

Could it be that, just as God's perspective on death is different from ours, so is His perspective on evil?

How could that not be the case? After all, He has promised us that all things work together for the good of His people (Rom. 8:28), and that we are conquerors...not in the sense that we avoid suffering, but rather that we are conquerors over all that we suffer (Rom. 8:35-37).

Self-centeredness hates that idea.

Love embraces it.

"Rejoice to the extent that you partake of Christ's sufferings" (1 Pet. 4:13).

"Yes, and if I am being poured out as a drink offering on the sacrifice and service of your faith, I am glad and rejoice with you all." (Php. 2:17)

When we stand before Him in Glory, basking in the joy of all his perfections, finally understanding all of the "whys" of our lives, we will rejoice in the fact that, no matter what we suffered on earth, truly no evil has befallen us.

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Today's "In Other Words" is being hosted over at Writing Canvas. Be sure to drop by there for links to more insights on this passage.

"I feel so much closer to God..."

"I feel so much closer to God, now that I don't hate myself."

That (or something along the same lines) has been the declaration of more than one person who has decided to surrender to a sinful lifestyle. It sounds so appealing on the surface, but I hope you will see before we're through that the one who chooses this path has chosen to walk away from the very love that he seeks.

What has been the response of those who have come face to face with the Holiness of God, according to the Bible?

"Now my eye sees You. Therefore I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes." (Job. 42:5b-6)

So I said: "Woe is me, for I am undone! Because I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips; for my eyes have seen the King, The LORD of hosts." (Isa 6:5)

When Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus' knees, saying, "Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord!" (Luke 5:8)

And when I saw Him, I fell at His feet as dead. (Rev 1:17a)

These are only a few examples of what happens in the hearts of sinners when their eyes are opened to God's purity and holiness. It is a consistent theme throughout the Bible.

"But I don't like that kind of God," you may protest. "I prefer the gentle Jesus. He's in the Bible too, you know."

Yes, God shows His kindness throughout Scripture, but please think about this: We cannot fully appreciate the kindness and gentleness of God until we see ourselves rightly as "undone" before Him.

Therefore consider the goodness and severity of God (Rom. 11:22).

G. H. Morrison (1866-1928) wrote about this so beautifully:

"We feel the wonder of the gentleness of God when we remember it is conjoined with power. When infinite power lies at the back of it, gentleness is always very moving. There is a gentleness which springs from weakness. Cowardice lies hidden at its roots. It comes from the disinclination to offend and from the desire to be in good standing with everybody. But the marvel of the gentleness of God is that it is not the signature of an interior weakness, but rests upon the bosom of Omnipotence. In a woman we all look for gentleness; it is one of the lustrous diadems of womanhood. In a professional military man we scarcely expect it; it is not the denizen of tented fields. And the Lord is 'a mighty man of war,' subduing, irresistible, almighty, and yet He comes to Israel as the dew. The elder spoke to John of the lion of the tribe of Judah. But when John looked to see the lion, lo! in the midst of the throne there was a lamb. Power was tenderness—the lion was the lamb—-Omnipotence would not break the bruised reed. It is the wonder of the gentleness of God."

Those who would seek to feel close to God by excusing their own sin have tragically denied themselves the precious beauty of God's gentleness!

Oh, don't miss this! His marvelous kindness, goodness, and gentleness come to those who recognize their sin and, like Job, "repent in dust and ashes."

Listen to these sobering words from God, including the words of hope at the end:

When you saw a thief, you consented with him, and have been a partaker with adulterers. You give your mouth to evil, and your tongue frames deceit. You sit and speak against your brother; you slander your own mother's son. These things you have done, and I kept silent; you thought that I was altogether like you; but I will rebuke you, and set them in order before your eyes. Now consider this, you who forget God, lest I tear you in pieces, and there be none to deliver: whoever offers praise glorifies Me; and to him who orders his conduct aright I will show the salvation of God. (Psa 50:18-23)

No, God is not some sort of Schizoid man, prone to times of gentleness and then flying into a rage for no reason. Nothing could be further from the truth. He is very consistent. He is "slow to anger and abounding in mercy" (Ps. 103:8), but He is just and must not leave the guilty unpunished (Jer. 46:28). The fact is, God is perfect in all His ways. His anger is perfect, and so is His forgiveness. His justice is perfect, and so is His mercy. His love is perfect, and so is His hatred. For Him to be imperfect in any of these things would make him flawed, and He would not be worthy of our devotion. But this perfect God has made promises that He will keep perfectly, and among those promises are these:

For thus says the High and Lofty One who inhabits eternity, whose name is Holy: "I dwell in the high and holy place, with him who has a contrite and humble spirit, to revive the spirit of the humble, and to revive the heart of the contrite ones. (Isa. 57:15)

If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. (1Jn 1:9)

Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red like crimson, they shall be as wool. (Isa. 1:18)

The one who comes to Me I will by no means cast out. (Jesus, in John 6:37)

Do not fear to humble yourself in repentance before Him, acknowledging sin and unworthiness. Fear not doing so. Humility is the only way to truly be close to Him, for:

God resists the proud, but gives grace to the humble (James 4:6)

(Please read about Self-Esteem Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3 if the thought of humility seems unpleasant to you.)

The true God, the God of the Bible, who is holy and perfect and just and loving and forgiving... THIS God is infinitely worth knowing. In His presence is fullness of joy; at His right hand are pleasures forevermore (Ps. 16:11). Don't let pride, don't let anything hold you back from Him. It is worth anything and everything, not just to feel closer to Him, but to actually be closer to Him.

(Next: What about those who've prayed for help for years, even decades, before finally giving up and surrendering to sin?)


(Photo by Betsy Markman in Breckenridge, CO)

Do You Love Me?

Some days are a battleground of dueling loves.

My love for writing, and all things writing-related, often wins out. Unfortunately, the love I feel is often the selfish kind. I want to write because of the pleasure it gives me, the feedback it earns for me, etc.

After one such day recently, when I finally got to the pile of dishes that had been waiting for hours, I could almost hear the Lord asking me the same question He asked Peter.

"Do you love me?"

I was already feeling a bit exasperated with myself for spending so much time on writing, so the question really hit home. So did the words of a wonderful devotional by George H. Morrison (1866-1928). It was based on 1 John 3:20, which says, "For if our heart condemns us, God is greater than our heart, and knows all things."

Morrison says, "It has been thought by many, and I believe with truth, that there is a beautiful reminiscence here—a reminiscence of that scene beside the Sea of Galilee. 'Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me? Yea, Lord, thou knowest that I love thee.' Three times over Simon had denied; three times over was the question put. Who can doubt that on that summer morning, faced by the Lord whom he had treated so, Simon Peter had a condemning heart. Only a week before the Lord had looked on him, and he had gone out into the night and wept. He had promised to play the hero in the crisis, and he had proved the veriest of cowards. And now, with all these memories of betrayal crying out to condemn him in his heart—'Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me?' What was there that Simon could appeal to? His word? His word had broken like a straw. His past—when only a few days before he had been false and recreant to the Master? But Peter cast himself in his despair upon the perfect knowledge of his Lord—'Lord, thou knowest all things, thou knowest that I love thee.' John was present when these words were uttered, and words like these can never be forgotten. They haunt the memory and deepen in significance and live again when the hour of teaching comes. And I for one believe that that sweet hour was vividly present to the mind of John when he gave the Church the comfort of our text. When our heart condemns us we are like Simon Peter, and like Peter we have naught to plead. But when our heart condemns us, we can still turn to God who is greater than our hearts and knoweth all things—knoweth what no one else could ever know, judging us by our failures and betrayals, that we still love Him, and still desire His presence, and still want to follow and to serve."

I found myself answering the Lord as Peter did, with a sigh of one who wishes she had a better answer.

"Lord, you know that I love You."

My life is not devoid of evidence of my love for God, but it tends to be lopsided in its expression. Practical expressions, the kind that involves rolling up sleeves and working up a sweat, tend to be obvious in their absence. And on that particular day, I wished I had filled my day with such work...done in love. It would have done my heart good to have seen such things, so that I might "assure my heart before Him" (1John 3:18-19)

And I heard Jesus' answer.

"Feed My sheep."

The apostle John also said, "If someone says, 'I love God,' and hates his brother, he is a liar; for he who does not love his brother whom he has seen, how can he love God whom he has not seen?" (1Jn 4:20)

Love for God and love for our fellow man are tied up so intricately together!

Oh Lord, please increase my love for You, and for others. May I love them as You love them...as You also love me...unselfishly, unstintingly, unendingly. May I write to bless others, not myself. And may I get up from my writing to bless others, too. Teach me what it means to feed your sheep.


(Photo from Stock.xchng by Hislightrq)

Does God Get Discouraged?

He will not fail nor be discouraged, till He has established justice in the earth (Isa 42:4)



We often remind ourselves about God's ultimate victory, and the fact that He does not, can not, will not fail.

But how often do we remember that He does not get discouraged?

What a glorious, beautiful truth this is!

As Pastor John Piper reminds us, God's own happiness is the basis for our happiness. And God is happy for many reasons, not the least of which is the fact that He cannot be thwarted in any way.

He will not be discouraged.

Is it safe for me to assume that many of you are easily discouraged, just like I am? Or perhaps, even though it's not easy to discourage you, it has happened anyway because things have simply become too overwhelming. At times like that, for people like us, it's helpful to remember God's victory, of course. But how much more assurance we can feel when we see His matchless self-confidence!

He will not be discouraged.

He has known from eternity past where the planets would be in their orbits right at this moment. And He has known just as long the alignments of governments and world powers. He has known the fall of the sparrow in the forest, and the hairs on our heads. What's more, He has not only known these things, but has ordained them. If you're a serious student of the Word, you know all of that. But it's not very encouraging to look at those facts if we picture our God as downcast, gloomy, irritable and frustrated because he's not certain how everything will turn out.

He is certain.

He will not be discouraged.

My mother was never calmer than when one of us needed to draw courage from her. I've seen wheedling parents pleading with their distressed children, whining like children themselves, and their children never fail to fall completely to pieces when they see their parents so undone. I'm sure you've seen this kind of scene: two children fall and scuff their knees a bit. Neither one begins to cry, because it wasn't really that bad. The mother of one child calmly says, "Well, it's okay. You're all right," and the child happily trots back to his playing. The other mother runs in a near panic, frantic over what has happened, and her formerly calm child dissolves into tears. If Mother thinks it's a tragedy, it must be one!

Our Heavenly Father has no fears about what is happening in your life right now, or in mine. I do not mean that He is callous or indifferent. I mean that He is utterly confident and perfectly competent to fulfill His promises to us.

He will not be discouraged.

To be discouraged simply means to lose one's courage, and it's a dangerous thing. Fear lashes out like a wounded animal that attacks its would-be rescuers. It isolates us in a prison with walls thicker than any ever made with brick and mortar. Cowardliness leads to lying, to cheating, to blame-shifting, to avoidance of even healthy risk. Fear protects itself at any cost, while love counts no sacrifice too great. It's true that perfect love casts out fear (1 John 4:18), and a little careful thought will show the inverse to be true as well. Where fear grows stronger, love is increasingly lost.

The great Scottish preacher George H. Morrison (1866-1928) tells us:

"We never can be patient without courage, and without courage we never can be pure. It calls for a little courage to be truthful, and it calls for a little courage to be kind. And sometimes it takes a great deal of courage just to say what we ought to say, and sometimes it takes more courage to say nothing. Do you know the commonest command in Scripture? The commonest command in Scripture is Fear not. Times without number in the Word of God it rings out upon us, Thou shalt not be afraid. For courage is at the roots of life, and it is the soil in which every virtue flourishes; it is no isolated or independent grace, but is the nursing mother of them all."

Do you know that God will not be discouraged?

I admit I never thought about the courage of our Lord until I was talking to my sons about the atonement a couple of years ago. My middle son, who is autistic, listened in silence until I talked about the crucifixion, and the fact that Jesus went willingly to Calvary for us. My son's eyes widened at that, and he said, "He was brave!"

Out of the mouths of babes!

Morrison says again, "I suppose there was never anyone on earth quite so courageous as our Savior Jesus Christ. Yet give a pagan that life of His to read, and I do not think he would say, How brave He was! He would say, How loving He was—how infinitely patient—how radiantly peaceful in the teeth of calumny; yet love and patience and radiance and peace were but His matchless courage in disguise."

Jesus' courage of course came from his own divine resources. But do you know that He can encourage you from the depths of His own courageous heart, the heart that faced Pilate without wavering, faced the Roman scourge and screamed (no doubt) under it's agony - but without faltering in His purpose, and faced Calvary without flinching?

He does not go to some celestial storehouse to find a box of courage to hand to his people when they need it. He has limitless stores of it right in His own heart, and He gives it liberally. Can you see it now, how it marks His features with a calmness and peace and confidence that seems to lighten your load as you look at it?

He will not be discouraged. And because of His courage, and His encouragement, we need never be discouraged either.

"Consider Him who endured such hostility from sinners against Himself, lest you become weary and discouraged in your souls." (Heb. 12:3)

He will not be discouraged!











(Photo taken by Betsy Markman in Colorado Springs, Colorado)