THE OVERCOMING LIFE--By D. L. MOODY--PART III. RESULTS OF TRUE REPENTANCE-SEVEN “I WILLS” OF CHRIST.

 

2. The “I Will” of Cleansing.

The next “I will” is found in Luke, fifth chapter. We read of a leper who came to Christ, and said: “Lord if Thou wilt, thou canst make me clean.” The Lord touched him, saying, “I will: be thou clean”; and immediately leprosy left him.

Now if any man or woman full of the leprosy of sin read this, if you will but go to the Master and tell all your case to Him, He will speak to you as He did to that poor leper and speak. “I will: be thou clean,” and the leprosy of your sins will flee away from you. It is the Lord, and the Lord alone, who can forgive sins. If you say to Him, “Lord, I am full of sin; Thou canst make me clean”; “Lord, I have a terrible temper; Thou canst make me clean”; “Lord, I have a deceitful heart. 

Cleanse me, O Lord; give me a new heart. O Lord, give me the power to overcome the flesh and the snares of the devil!”; “Lord, I am full of unclean habits”; if you come to Him with a sincere spirit, you will hear the voice, “I will; be thou clean.” It will be done. Do you think that the God who created the world out of nothing, who by a breath put life into the world—do you think that if He says, “Thou shalt be clean,” you will not?

Now, you can make a wonderful exchange today. You can have health in the place of sickness; you can get rid of everything that is vile and hateful in the sight of God. The Son of God comes down and says, “I will take away your leprosy, and give you health in its stead. I will take away that terrible disease that is ruining your body and soul and give you my righteousness in its stead. I will clothe you with the garments of salvation.”

Is it not wonderful? That’s what He means when He says—I will. Oh, lay hold of this “I will!”

THE OVERCOMING LIFE--By D. L. MOODY--PART III. RESULTS OF TRUE REPENTANCE-SEVEN “I WILLS” OF CHRIST.

A man when he says, “I will,” may not mean much. We very often say “I will,” when we don’t mean to fulfill what we say; but when we come to the “I will” of Christ, He means to fulfill it. Everything He has promised to do, He is able and willing to accomplish, and He is going to do it. I cannot find any passage in Scripture in which He says “I will” do this, or “I will” do that, but it will be done.

1. The “I Will” of Salvation.

The first “I will” to which I want to direct your attention, is to be found in John’s gospel, sixth chapter and thirty-seventh verse: “Him that cometh unto Me I will in no wise cast out.”

I imagine someone will say, “Well, if I were what I ought to be, I would come; but when my mind goes over the past record of my life, it is too dark. I am not fit to come.”

You must bear in mind that Jesus Christ came to save not good people, not the upright and just, but sinners like you and me, who have gone astray, and sinned and come short of the glory of God. Listen to this “I will”—it goes right into the heart— “Him that cometh unto Me, I will in no wise cast out.” Indeed, that is broad enough—is it not? I don’t care who the man or woman is; I don’t care what their trials, troubles, their sorrows, or their sins are, if they only come straight to the Master, He will not cast them out. Come then, poor sinner; come just as you are, and take Him at His word.

He is so anxious to save sinners, that He will take everyone who comes. He will take those who are so full of sin that they are despised by all who know them, who have been rejected by their fathers and mothers, who have been cast off by the wives of their bosoms. He will take those who have sunk so low that upon them no eye of pity is cast. His occupation is to hear and save. That is what He left heaven and came into the world for; that is what He left the throne of God for—to save sinners. “The Son of man is come to seek and to save that which was lost.” He did not come to condemn the world but that the world through Him might be saved.

A wild and prodigal young man, who was running a headlong career to ruin came into one of our meetings in Chicago. The Spirit of God got hold of him. While conversing with him, and endeavoring to bring him to Christ, I quoted this verse to him.

I asked him: “Do you believe Christ said that?”

“I suppose He did.”

“Suppose He did! do you believe it?”

“I hope so.”

“Hope so! Do you believe it? You do your work, and the Lord will do His. Just come as you are, and throw yourself upon His bosom, and He will not cast you out.”

This man thought it was too simple and easy.

At last, the light seemed to break in upon him, and he seemed to find comfort in it. It was past midnight before he got down on his knees, but down he went and was converted. I said:

“Now, don’t think you are going to get out of the devil’s territory without trouble. The devil will come to you tomorrow morning and say it was all feeling; that you only imagined you were accepted by God. When he does, don’t fight him with your own opinions, but fight him with John 6:37: ‘Him that cometh to Me I will in no wise cast out.’ Let that be the ‘sword of the Spirit.’”

I don’t believe that any man ever starts to go to Christ, but the devil strives somehow or other to meet him and trip him up. And even after he has come to Christ, the devil tries to assail him with doubts and make him believe there is something wrong with it.

The struggle came sooner than I thought in this man’s case. When he was on his way home the devil assailed him. He used this text, but the devil put this thought into his mind: “How do you know Christ ever said that after all? Perhaps the translators made a mistake.”

Into darkness, he went again. He was in trouble till about two in the morning. At last, he came to this conclusion. Said he:

“I will believe it anyway; and when I get to heaven, if it isn’t true, I will just tell the Lord I didn’t make the mistake—the translators made it.”

The kings and princes of this world, when they issue invitations, call round them the rich, the mighty and powerful, the honorable and the wise; but the Lord, when He was on earth; called round Him the vilest of the vile. That was the principal fault the people found with Him. Those self-righteous Pharisees were not going to associate with harlots and publicans. The principal charge against Him was: “This man received sinners and ate with them.” Who would have such a man around him as John Bunyan in his time? He, a Bedford tinker, couldn’t get inside one of the princely castles. I was very much amused when I was over on the other side. They had erected a monument to John Bunyan, and it was unveiled by lords and dukes and great men. While he was on earth, they would not have allowed him inside the walls of their castles. Yet he was made one of the mightiest instruments in the spread of the Gospel. No book that has ever been written comes so near the Bible as John Bunyan’s “Pilgrim’s Progress.” And he was a poor Bedford tinker. So, it is with God. He picks up some poor, lost tramp, and makes him an instrument to turn hundreds and thousands to Christ.

George Whitefield, standing in his tabernacle in London, and with a multitude gathered about him, cried out: “The Lord Jesus will save the devil’s castaways!”

Two poor abandoned wretches standing outside in the street heard him, as his silvery voice rang out in the air. Looking into each other’s faces, they said: “That must mean you and me.” They wept and rejoiced. They drew near and looked in at the door, at the face of the earnest messenger, the tears streaming from his eyes as he plead with the people to give their hearts to God. One of them wrote him a little note and sent it to him.

Later that day, as he sat at the table of Lady Huntington, who was his special friend, someone present said:

“Mr. Whitefield, did you not go a little too far today when you said that the Lord would save the devil’s castaways?”

Taking the note from his pocket he gave it to the lady, and said: “Will you read that note aloud?”

She read: “Mr. Whitefield: Two poor lost women stood outside your tabernacle today, and heard you say that the Lord would save the devil’s castaways. We seized upon that as our last hope, and we write you this to tell you that we rejoice now in believing in Him, and from this good hour we shall endeavor to serve Him, who has done so much for us.”

 

THE OVERCOMING LIFE--By D. L. MOODY--PART III. RESULTS OF TRUE REPENTANCE-What Does it Mean to Come?

 

Perhaps you say, “Mr. Moody, I wish you would tell us what it is to come.” I have given up trying to explain it. I always feel like the colored minister who said he was going to confound, instead of expounding, the chapter.

The best definition just comes. The more you try to explain it, the more you are mystified. The first thing a mother instructs her child is to look. She takes the baby to the window, and says, “Look, baby, papa is coming!” Then she teaches the child to come. She props it up against a chair, and says, “Come!” and by and by the little thing pushes the chair along towards mamma. That’s coming. You don’t need to go to college to learn how. You don’t need any minister to tell you what it is. Now, will you come to Christ? He said, “Him that cometh unto Me, I will in no wise cast out.”

When we have such a promise as this, let us cling to it, and never give it up. Christ is not mocking us. He wants us to come with all our sins and backslidings and throw ourselves upon His bosom. It is our sins God wants, not our tears only. They alone do no good. And we cannot come to resolutions. Action is necessary. How many times at church have we said, “I will turn over a new leaf,” but the Monday leaf is worse than the Saturday leaf.

The way to heaven is straight as a rule, but it is the way of the cross. Don’t try to get around it. Shall I tell you what the “yoke” referred to in the text is? It is the cross that Christians must bear. The only way by which you can find rest in this dark world is by taking up the yoke of Christ. I do not know what it may include in your case, beyond taking up your Christian duties, acknowledging Christ, and acting as becomes one of His disciples. Perhaps it may be to erect a family altar to tell a godless husband that you have made up your mind to serve God; or to tell your parents that you want to be a Christian. Follow the will of God, and happiness and peace and rest will come. The way of obedience is always the way of blessing.

I was preaching in Chicago to a hall full of women one Sunday afternoon, and after the meeting was over a lady came to me and said she wanted to talk to me. She said she would accept Christ, and after some conversation, she went home. I looked for her for a whole week but didn’t see her until the following Sunday afternoon. She came and sat down right in front of me, and her face had such a sad expression. She seemed to have entered into the misery, instead of the joy, of the Lord.

After the meeting was over, I went to her and asked her what the trouble was.

She said: “Oh, Mr. Moody, this has been the most miserable week of my life.”

I asked her if there was anyone with whom she had had trouble and whom she could not forgive.

She said: “No, not that I know of.”

“Well, did you tell your friends about having found the Savior?”

“Indeed, I didn’t, I have been trying to keep it from them all week.”

“Well,” I said, “that is the reason why you have no peace.”

She wanted to take the crown but did not want the cross. My friends, you must go by the way of Calvary. If you ever get rest, you must get it at the foot of the cross.

“Why,” she said, “if I should go home and tell my infidel husband that I had found Christ I don’t know what he would do. I think he would turn me out.”

“Well,” I said, “go out.”

She went away, promising that she would tell him, timid and pale, but she did not want another wretched week. She was bound to have peace.

The next night I gave a lecture to men only, and in the hall, there were eight thousand men and one solitary woman. When I got through and went into the inquiry meeting, I found this lady with her husband. She introduced him to me (he was a doctor and a very influential man) and said:

“He wants to become a Christian.”

I took my Bible and told him all about Christ, and he accepted Him. I said to her after it was all over:

“It turned out quite differently from what you expected, didn’t it?”

“Yes,” she replied, “I was never so scared in my life. I expected he would do something dreadful, but it has turned out so well.”

She took God’s way and got rest.

I want to say to young ladies, perhaps you have a godless father or mother, a skeptical brother, who is going down through drink, and perhaps there is no one who can reach them but you. How many times has a godly, pure young lady taken the light into some darkened home! Many a home might be lit up with the Gospel if the mothers and daughters would only speak the word.

The last time Mr. Sankey and myself were in Edinburgh, there was a father, two sisters, and a brother, who used every morning to take the morning paper and pick my sermon to pieces. They were indignant to think that the Edinburgh people should be carried away with such preaching. One day one of the sisters was going by the hall, and she thought she would drop in and see what class of people went there. She happened to take a seat by a godly lady, who said to her:

“I hope you are interested in this work.”

She tossed her head and said: “Indeed I am not. I am disgusted with everything I have seen and heard.”

“Well,” said the lady, “perhaps you came prejudiced.”

“Yes, and the meeting has not removed any of it, but has rather increased it.”

“I have received a great deal of good from them.”

“There is nothing here for me. I don’t see how an intelligent person can be interested.”

To make a long story short, she got the lady to promise to come back. When the meeting broke up, just a little of the prejudice had worn away. She promised to come back again the next day, and then she attended three or four more meetings and became quite interested. She said nothing to her family until finally, the burden became too heavy, and she told them. They laughed at her and made her the butt of their ridicule.

One day the two sisters were together, and the other said: “Now what have you got at those meetings that you didn’t have in the first place?”

“I have a peace that I never knew of before. I am at peace with God, myself, and all the world.” Did you ever have a little war of your own with your neighbors, in your own family? And she said: “I have self-control. You know, sister, if you had said half the mean things before, I was converted that you have said since I would have been angry and answered back, but if you remember correctly, I haven’t answered once since I have been converted.”

The sister said: “You certainly have something that I have not.” The other told her it was for her too, and she brought the sister to the meetings, where she found peace.

Like Martha and Mary, they had a brother, but he was a member of the University of Edinburgh. He is converted. He goes to these meetings. It might do for women, but not for him. One night they came home and told him that a chum of his own, a member of the University, had stood up and confessed Christ, and when he sat down his brother got up and confessed, and so, with the third one.

When the young man heard it, he said: “Do you mean to tell me that he has been converted?”

“Yes.”

“Well,” he said, “there must be something in it.”

He put on his hat, and coat, and went to see his friend Black. Black got him down to the meetings, and he was converted.

We went through to Glasgow and had not been there six weeks when news came that that young man had been stricken down and died. When he was dying, he called his father to his bedside and said:

“Wasn’t it a good thing that my sisters went to those meetings? Won’t you meet me in heaven, father?”

“Yes, my son, I am so glad you are a Christian; that is the only comfort that I have in losing you. I will become a Christian and will meet you again.”

I tell this to encourage some sisters to go home and carry the message of salvation. It may be that your brother may be taken away in a few months. My dear friends, are we not living on solemn days? Isn’t it time for us to get our friends into the Kingdom of God? Come, wife, won’t you tell your husband? Come, sister, won’t you tell your brother? Won’t you take up your cross now? The blessing of God will rest on your soul if you will.

I was in Wales once, and a lady told me this little story: An English friend of hers, a mother, had a child that was sick. At first, they considered there was no danger, until one day the doctor came in and said that the symptoms were very unfavorable. He took the mother out of the room and told her that the child could not live. It came like a thunderbolt. After the doctor had gone the mother went into the room where the child lay and began to talk to the child and tried to divert its mind.

“Darling, do you know you will soon hear the music of heaven? You will hear a sweeter song than you have ever heard on earth. You will hear them sing the song of Moses and the Lamb. You are very fond of music. Won’t it be sweet, darling?”

And the little tired, sick child turned its head away, and said, “Oh mamma, I am so tired and so sick that I think it would make me worse to hear all that music.”

“Well,” the mother said, “you will soon see Jesus, You will see the seraphim and cherubim and the streets all paved with gold”; and she went on picturing heaven as it is described in Revelation.

The little tired child again turned its head away, and said, “Oh mamma, I am so tired that I think it would make me worse to see all those beautiful things!”

At last, the mother took the child up in her arms and pressed her to her loving heart. And the little sick one whispered:

“Oh mamma, which is what I want. If Jesus will only take me in His arms and let me rest!”

Dear friend, are you not tired and weary of sin? Are you not wearying of the turmoil of life? You can end rest on the bosom of the Son of God.

THE OVERCOMING LIFE--By D. L. MOODY--PART III. RESULTS OF TRUE REPENTANCE-Christ the Burden-Bearer.

 

It says in another place, “Casting all your care upon Him, for He careth for you.” We would have a victorious Church if we could get Christian people to realize that. But they have never made the discovery. They agree that Christ is the sin-bearer, but they do not realize that He is also the burden-bearer. “Surely He hath borne our griefs and carried our sorrows.” It is the privilege of every child of God to walk in unclouded sunlight.

Some people go back into the past and rake up all the troubles they ever had, and then they look into the future and anticipate that they will have still more trouble, and they go reeling and staggering all through life. They give you the cold chills every time they meet you. They put on a whining voice and tell you what “a hard time they have had.” I believe they embalm them and bring out the mummy at every opportunity. The Lord says, “Cast all your care on Me. I want to carry your burdens and your troubles.” What we want is a joyful Church, and we are not going to convert the world until we have it. We want to get this long-faced Christianity off the face of the earth.

Take these people that have some great burden and let them come into a meeting. If you can get their attention upon the singing or preaching, they will say, “Oh, wasn’t it grand! I forgot all my cares.” And they just drop their bundle at the end of the pew. But the moment the benediction is pronounced they grab the bundle again. You laugh, but you do it yourself. Cast your care on Him.

Sometimes they go into their closet and close their door, and they get so carried away and lifted up that they forget their trouble, but they just take it up again the moment they get off their knees. Leave your sorrow now; cast all your care upon Him. If you cannot come to Christ as a saint, come as a sinner. But if you are a saint with some trouble or care, bring it to Him. Saint and sinner, come! He wants you all. Don’t let Satan deceive you into believing that you cannot come if you will. Christ says, “Ye will not come unto Me.” With the command comes the power.

A man in one of our meetings in Europe said he would like to come, but he was chained, and couldn’t come.

A Scotchman said to him, “Ay, man, why don’t you come chain and all?”

He said, “I never thought of that.”

Are you cross and peevish, and do you make things unpleasant at home? My friend, come to Christ and ask Him to help you. Whatever the sin is, bring it to Him.

THE OVERCOMING LIFE--By D. L. MOODY--PART III. RESULTS OF TRUE REPENTANCE-Where Can Rest be Found?

 

If I wanted to find a person who had rest I would not go among the very wealthy. The man that we read of in the twelfth chapter of Luke, thought he was going to get rest by multiplying his goods, but he was disappointed. “Soul, take thine ease.” I venture to say that there is not a person in this wide world who has tried to find rest in that way and found it.

Money cannot buy it. Many a millionaire would gladly give millions if he could purchase it as he does his stocks and shares. God has made the soul a little too large for this world. Roll the whole world in, and still there is room. There is care in getting wealth, and more care in keeping it.

Nor would I go among the pleasure seekers. They have a few hours’ enjoyment, but the next day there is enough sorrow to counterbalance it. They may drink the cup of pleasure to-day, but the cup of pain comes on to-morrow.

To find rest I would never go among the politicians, or among the so-called great. Congress is the last place on earth that I would go. In the Lower House they want to go to the Senate; in the Senate they want to go to the Cabinet; and then they want to go to the White House; and rest has never been found there. Nor would I go among the halls of learning. “Much study is a weariness to the flesh.” I would not go among the upper ten, the “bon-ton,” for they are constantly chasing after fashion. Have you not noticed their troubled faces on our streets? And the face is index to the soul. They have no hopeful look. Their worship of pleasure is slavery. Solomon tried pleasure, and found bitter disappointment, and down the ages has come the bitter cry, “All is vanity.”

Now, there is no rest in sin. The wicked know nothing about it. The Scriptures tell us the wicked “are like the troubled sea that cannot rest.” You have, perhaps been on the sea when there is a calm, when the water is as clear as crystal, and it seemed as if the sea were at rest. But if you looked you would see that the waves came in, and that the calm was only on the surface. Man, like the sea, has no rest. He has had no rest since Adam fell, and there is none for him until he returns to God again, and the light of Christ shines into his heart.

Rest cannot be found in the world, and thank God the world cannot take it from the believing heart! Sin is the cause of all this unrest. It brought toil and labor and misery into the world.

Now for something positive. I would go successfully to someone who has heard the sweet voice of Jesus, and has laid his burden down at the cross. There is rest, sweet rest. Thousands could certify to this blessed fact. They could say, and truthfully:

I heard the voice of Jesus say,

“Come unto me and rest.

Lay down, thou weary one, lay down,

Thy head upon my breast.”

I came to Jesus as I was,

Weary and worn and sad.

I found in Him a resting-place,

And He hath made me glad.

Among all his writings St. Augustine has nothing sweeter than this: “Thou hast made us for Thyself, O God, and our heart is restless till it rests in Thee.”

Do you know that for four thousand years no prophet or priest or patriarch ever stood up and uttered a text like this? It would be blasphemy for Moses to have uttered a text like it. Do you think he had rest when he was teasing the Lord to let him go into the Promised Land? Do you think Elijah could have uttered such a text as this, when, under the juniper-tree, he prayed that he might die? And this is one of the strongest proofs that Jesus Christ was not only man, but God. He was God-Man, and this is Heaven’s proclamation, “Come unto Me, and I will give you rest”. He brought it down from heaven with Him.

Now, if this text was not true, don’t you think it would have been found out by this time? I believe it as much as I believe in my existence. Why? Because I not only find it in the Book, but in my own experience. The “I wills” of Christ have never been broken, and never can be.

I thank God for the word “give” in that passage. He doesn’t sell it. Some of us are so poor that we could not buy it if it was for sale. Thank God, we can get it for nothing.

I like to have a text like this, because it takes us all in. “Come unto me all ye that labor.” That doesn’t mean a select few—refined ladies and cultured men. It doesn’t mean good people only. It applies to saint and sinner. Hospitals are for the sick, not for healthy people. Do you think that Christ would shut the door in anyone’s face, and say, “I did not mean all; I only meant certain ones”? If you cannot come as a saint, come as a sinner. Only come!

A lady told me once that she was so hard-hearted she couldn’t come.

“Well,” I said, “my good woman, it doesn’t say all ye soft-hearted people come. Black hearts, vile hearts, hard hearts, soft hearts, all hearts come. Who can soften your hard heart but Himself?”

The harder the heart, the more need you have to come. If my watch stops I don’t take it to a drug store or to a blacksmith’s shop, but to the watchmaker’s, to have it repaired. So if the heart gets out of order take it to its keeper, Christ, to have it set right. If you can prove that you are a sinner, you are entitled to the promise. Get all the benefit you can out of it.

Now, there are a good many believers who think this text applies only to sinners; It is just the thing for them too. What do we see to-day? The Church, Christian people, all loaded down with cares and troubles. “Come unto me all ye that labor.” All! I believe that includes the Christian whose heart is burdened with some great sorrow. The Lord wants you to come.

THE OVERCOMING LIFE--By D. L. MOODY--PART III. RESULTS OF TRUE REPENTANCE-REST.

 

Some years ago a gentleman came to me and asked me which I thought was the most precious promise of all those that Christ left. I took some time to look them over, but I gave it up. I found that I could not answer the question. It is like a man with a large family of children, he cannot tell which he likes best; he loves them all. But if not the best, this is one of the sweetest promises of all: “Come unto Me, all ye that labor and are heavily laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of Me, for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and My burden is light.”

There are a good many people who think the promises are not going to be fulfilled. There are some that you do see fulfilled, and you cannot help but believe they are true. Now, remember that all promises are not given without conditions. Some are given with, and others without, conditions attached to them. For instance, it says, “If I regard iniquity in my heart, the Lord will not hear me.” Now, I need not pray as long as I am cherishing some known sin. He will not hear me, much less answer me. The Lord says in the eighty-fourth Psalm, “No good thing will he withhold from them that walk uprightly.” If I am not walking uprightly, I have no claims under the promise. Again, some of the promises were made to certain individuals or nations. For instance, God said that He would make Abraham’s seed to multiply as the stars of heaven: but that is not a promise for you or me. Some promises were made to the Jews, and do not apply to the Gentiles.

Then there are promises without conditions. He promised Adam and Eve that the world should have a Savior, and there was no power on earth or perdition that could keep Christ from coming at the appointed time. When Christ left the world, He said He would send us the Holy Ghost. He had only been gone ten days when the Holy Ghost came. And so you can run right through the Scriptures, and you will find that some of the promises are with, and some without, conditions; and if we don’t comply with the conditions we cannot expect them to be fulfilled.

I believe it will be the experience of every man and woman on the face of the earth, I believe that everyone will be obliged to testify in the evening of life, that if they have complied with the condition, the Lord has fulfilled His word to the letter. Joshua, the old Hebrew hero, was an illustration. After having tested God forty years in the Egyptian brick kilns, forty years in the desert, and thirty years in the Promised Land, his dying testimony was: “Not one thing hath failed of all the good things which the Lord promised.” I believe you could heave the ocean easier than break one of God’s promises. So when we come to a promise like the one we have before us now, I want you to bear in mind that there is no discount upon it. “Come unto Me, all ye that labor and are heavily laden, and I will give you rest.”

Perhaps you say: “I hope Mr. Moody is not going to preach on this old text.” Yes: I am. When I take up an album, it does not interest me if all the photographs are new; but if I know any of the faces. I stop at once. So with these old, well-known texts. They have quenched our thirst before, but the water is still bubbling up—we cannot drink it dry.

If you probe the human heart, you will find a want, and that want is rest. The world's cry today is, “Where can rest be found?” Why are theaters and places of amusement crowded at night? What is the secret of Sunday driving, of the saloons and brothels? Some think they will get it in pleasure, others think they will get it in wealth, and others in the literature. They are seeking and finding no rest.

THE OVERCOMING LIFE--By D. L. MOODY--PART III. RESULTS OF TRUE REPENTANCE-HUMILITY.

 

“Learn of me, for I am meek and lowly in heart.”—Matthew 11:29.

There is no harder lesson to learn than the lesson of humility. It is not taught in the schools of men, only in the school of Christ. It is the rarest of all the gifts. Very rarely do we find a man or woman who is following closely the footsteps of the Master in meekness and in humility. I believe that it is the hardest lesson that Jesus Christ had to teach His disciples while He was here on earth. It almost looked at first as though He had failed to teach it to the twelve men who had been with Him almost constantly for three years.

I believe that if we are humble enough, we shall be sure to get a great blessing. After all, I think that more depends upon us than upon the Lord, because He is always ready to give a blessing and give it freely, but we are not always in a position to receive it. He always blesses the humble, and, if we can get down in the dust before Him, no one will go away disappointed. It was Mary at the feet of Jesus, who had chosen the “better part.”

Did you ever notice the reason Christ gave for learning of Him? He might have said: “Learn of me because I am the most advanced thinker of the age. I have performed miracles that no man else has performed. I have shown my supernatural power in a thousand ways.” But no: the reason He gave was that He was “meek, and lowly in heart.”

We read of the three men in Scripture whose faces shone, and all three were noted for their meekness and humility. We are told that the face of Christ shone at His transfiguration; Moses, after he had been in the mount for forty days, came down from his communion with God with a shining face; and when Stephen stood before the Sanhedrim on the day of his death, his face was lighted up with glory. If our faces are to shine, we must get into the valley of humility; we must go down in the dust before God.

Bunyan says that it is hard to get down into the valley of humiliation, the descent into it is steep and rugged; but that it is very fruitful, fertile, and beautiful once we get there. I think that no one will dispute that; almost every man, even the ungodly, admires meekness.

Someone asked Augustine what was the first of the religious graces, and he said, “Humility.” They asked him what was the second, and he replied, “Humility.” They asked him the third, and he said, “Humility.” I think that if we are humble, we have all the graces.

Some years ago, I saw what is called a sensitive plant. I happened to breathe on it, and suddenly it drooped its head; I touched it, and it withered away. Humility is as sensitive as that; it cannot safely be brought out on exhibition. A man who is flattering himself that he is humble and walking close to the Master is self-deceived. It consists not in thinking meanly of us, but in not thinking of ourselves at all. Moses wits not that his face shone. If humility speaks of itself, it is gone.

Someone has said that the grass is an illustration of this lowly grace. It was created for the lowest service. Cut it, and it springs up again. The cattle feed upon it, and yet how beautiful it is.

The showers fall upon the mountain peaks, and very often leave them barren because they rush down into the meadows and valleys and make the lowly places fertile. If a man is proud and lifted up, rivers of grace may flow over him and yet leave him barren and unfruitful, while they bring blessing to the man who has been brought low by the grace of God.

A man can counterfeit love, he can counterfeit faith, he can counterfeit hope and all the other graces, but it is exceedingly difficult to counterfeit humility. You soon detect mock humility. They have a saying in the East among the Arabs, that as the tares and the wheat grow, they show which God has blessed. The ears that God has blessed bow their heads and acknowledge every grain, and the more fruitful they are the lower their heads are bowed. The tares which God has sent as a curse, lift up their heads erect, high above the wheat, but they are only fruitful of evil. I have a pear tree on my farm which is very beautiful; it appears to be one of the most beautiful trees in my area. Every branch seems to be reaching up to the light and stands almost like a wax candle, but I never get any fruit from it. I have another tree, which was so full of fruit last year that the branches almost touched the ground. If we only get down low enough, my friends, God will use every one of us to His glory.

“As the lark that soars the highest builds her nest the lowest; as the nightingale that sings so sweetly, sings in the shade when all things rest; as the branches that are most laden with fruit, bend lowest; as the ship most laden, sinks deepest in the water;—so the holiest Christians are the humblest.”

The London Times some years ago told the story of a petition that was being circulated for signatures. It was a time of great excitement, and this petition was intended to have great influence in the House of Lords, but there was one word left out. Instead of reading, “We humbly beseech thee,” it read, “We beseech thee.” So it was ruled out. My friends, if we want to make an appeal to the God of Heaven, we must humble ourselves; and if we do humble ourselves before the Lord, we shall not be disappointed.

As I have been studying some Bible characters that illustrate humility, I have been ashamed of myself. If you have any regard for me, pray that I may have humility. When I put my life aside the life of some of these men, I say, Shame on the Christianity of the present day. If you want to get a good idea of yourself, look at some of the Bible characters that have been clothed with meekness and humility, and see what a contrast is your position before God and man.

One of the meekest characters in history was John the Baptist. You remember when they sent a deputation to him and asked if he was Elias, or this prophet, or that prophet, he said, “No.” Now he might have said some very flattering things of himself. He might have said:

“I am the son of the old priest, Zacharias. Haven’t you heard of my fame as a preacher? I have baptized more people probably than any man living. The world has never seen a preacher like myself.”

I honestly believe that in the present day most men standing in his position would do that. On the railroad train, some time ago, I heard a man talking so loudly that all the people in the car could hear him. He said that he had baptized more people than any man in his denomination. He told me how many thousand miles he had traveled, how many sermons he had preached, how many open-air services he had held, and this and that until I was so ashamed that I had to hide my head. This is the age of boasting. It is the day of the great “I.”

My attention was recently called to the fact that in all the Psalms you cannot find any place where David refers to his victory over the giant, Goliath. If it had been in the present day, there would have been a volume written about it at once; I don’t know how many poems there would be telling of the great things that this man had done. He would have been in demand as a lecturer and would have added a title to his name: G. G. K.,—Great Giant Killer. That is how it is today: great evangelists, great preachers, great theologians, great bishops.

“John,” they asked, “who are you?”

“I am nobody. I am to be heard, not to be seen. I am only a voice.”

He hadn’t a word to say about himself. I once heard a little bird faintly singing close by me,—at last, it got clear out of sight, and then its notes were still sweeter. The higher it flew the sweeter sounded its notes. If we can only get ourselves out of sight and learn of Him who was meek and lowly in heart, we shall be lifted up into heavenly places.

Mark tells us, in the first chapter and seventh verse, that John came and preached saying, “There cometh one mightier than I after me, the latchet of whose shoes I am not worthy to stoop down and unloose.” Think of that; and bear in mind that Christ was looked upon as a deceiver, a village carpenter, and yet here is John, the son of the old priest, who had a much higher position in the sight of men than that of Jesus. Great crowds were coming to hear him, and even Herod attended his meetings.

When his disciples came and told John that Christ was beginning to draw crowds, he nobly answered: “A man can receive nothing, except it be given him from heaven. Ye yourselves bear me witness that I said, I am not the Christ, but that I am sent before Him. He that hath the bride is the bridegroom: but the friend of the bridegroom, who stands and hears him, rejoiced greatly because of the bridegroom’s voice: this my joy, therefore, is fulfilled. He must increase, but I must decrease.”

It is easy to read that, but it is hard for us to live in the power of it. It is very hard for us to be ready to decrease, to grow smaller and smaller, that Christ may increase. The morning star fades away when the sun rises.

“He that cometh from above is above all: he that is of the earth is earthly and speak of the earth: He that cometh from heaven is above all, and what He hath seen and heard, that He testified; and no man receives His testimony. He that hath received His testimony hath set to his seal that God is true. For He whom God hath sent speak the words of God: for God giveth not the Spirit by measure unto Him.”

Let us now turn the light upon ourselves. Have we been decreasing of late? Do we think less of ourselves and of our position than we did a year ago? Are we seeking to obtain some position of dignity? Are we wanting to hold on to some title, and are we offended because we are not treated with the courtesy that we think is due us? Some time ago I heard a man in the pulpit say that he should take offense if he was not addressed by his title. My dear friend, are you going to take that position that you must have a title, and that you must have every letter addressed with that title, or will you be offended? John did not want any title, and when we are right with God, we shall not be caring about titles. In one of his early epistles, Paul calls himself the “least of all the apostles.” Later on, he claims to be “less than the least of all saints,” and again, just before his death, humbly declares that he is the “chief of sinners.” Notice how he seems to have grown smaller and smaller in his own estimation. So it was with John. And I do hope and pray that as the days go by, we may feel like hiding ourselves, and letting God have all the honor and glory.

“When I look back upon my own religious experience,” says Andrew Murray, “or round upon the Church of Christ in the world, I stand amazed at the thought of how little humility is sought after as the distinguishing feature of the discipleship of Jesus. In preaching and living, in the daily intercourse of the home and social life, in the more special fellowship with Christians, in the direction and performance of work for Christ—alas! how much proof there is that humility is not esteemed the cardinal virtue, the only root from which the graces can grow, the one indispensable condition of true fellowship with Jesus.”

See what Christ says about John. “He was a burning and shining light.” Christ gave him the honor that belonged to him. If you take a humble position, Christ will see it. If you want God to help you, then take a low position.

I am afraid that if we had been in John’s place, many of us would have said: “What did Christ say,—I am a burning and shining light?” Then we would have had that recommendation put in the newspapers, and would have sent them to our friends, with that part marked in blue pencil. Sometimes I get a letter just full of clippings from the newspapers, stating that this man is more eloquent than Gough, etc. And the man wants me to get him some church. Do you think that a man who has such eloquence would be looking for a church? No, they would all be looking for him.

My dear friends, isn’t it humiliating? Sometimes I think it is a wonder that any man is converted these days. Let another praise you. Don’t be around praising yourself. If we want God to lift us up, let us get down. The lower we get, the higher God will lift us. It is Christ’s eulogy of John, “Greater than any man born of woman.”

There is a story told of Carey, the great missionary, that he was invited by the Governor-general of India to go to a dinner party at which were some military officers belonging to the aristocracy, and who looked down upon missionaries with scorn and contempt.

One of these officers said at the table: “I believe that Carey was a shoemaker, wasn’t he, before he took up the profession of a missionary?”

Mr. Carey spoke up and said: “Oh no, I was only a cobbler. I could mend shoes, and wasn’t ashamed of it.”

The one prominent virtue of Christ, next to His obedience, is His humility; and even His obedience grew out of His humility. Being in the form of God, He counted it not a thing to be grasped to be on an equality with God, but He emptied Himself, taking the form of a bond-servant, and was made in the likeness of men. And being found in fashion as a man, He humbled Himself, and became obedient unto death, yea, the death of the cross. In His lowly birth, His submission to His earthly parents, His seclusion during thirty years, His consorting with the poor and despised, His entire submission and dependence upon His Father, this virtue that was consummated in His death on the cross, shines out.

One day Jesus was on His way to Capernaum, and was talking about His coming death and suffering, and His resurrection and He heard quite a heated discussion going on behind Him. When He came into the house at Capernaum, He turned to His disciples and said:

“What was all that discussion about?”

I see John look at James, and Peter at Andrew, —and they all looked ashamed. “Who shall be the greater?” That discussion has wrecked party after party, one society after another—“Who shall be the greatest?”

The way Christ took to teach them humility was by putting a little child in their midst and saying: “If you want to be great, take that little child for an example, and he who wants to be the greatest, let him be a servant of all.”

To me, one of the saddest things in all the life of Jesus Christ was the fact that just before His crucifixion, His disciples should have been striving to see who should be the greatest, that night He instituted the Supper, and they ate the Passover together. It was His last night on earth, and they never saw Him so sorrowful before. He knew Judas was going to sell Him for thirty pieces of silver. He knew that Peter would deny Him. And yet, in addition to this, when going into the very shadow of the cross, there arose this strife as to who should be the greatest. He took a towel and girded Himself like a slave, and He took a basin of water and stooped and washed their feet. That was another object lesson of humility. He said, “Ye call me Lord, and ye do well. If you want to be great in my Kingdom, be a servant of all. If you serve, you shall be great.”

When the Holy Ghost came, and those men were filled, from that time on mark the difference: Matthew takes up his pen to write, and he keeps Matthew out of sight. He tells what Peter and Andrew did, but he calls himself Matthew “the publican.” He tells how they left all to follow Christ but does not mention the feast he gave. Jerome says that Mark’s gospel is to be regarded as memoirs of Peter’s discourses and to have been published by his authority. Yet here we constantly find that damaging things are mentioned about Peter, and things to his credit are not referred to. Mark’s gospel omits all allusion to Peter’s faith in venturing on the sea but goes into detail about the story of his fall and denial of our Lord. Peter put himself down and lifted others up.

If the Gospel of Luke had been written today, it would be signed by the great Dr. Luke, and you would have his photograph as a frontispiece. But you can’t find Luke’s name; he keeps out of sight. He wrote two books, and his name is not to be found in either. John covers himself always under the expression—“the disciple whom Jesus loved.” None of the four men whom history and tradition assert to be the authors of the gospels, lay claim to the authorship in their writings. Dear man of God, I would that I had the same spirit, that I could just get out of sight,—hide myself.

My dear friends, I believe our only hope is to be filled with the Spirit of Christ. May God fill us, so that we shall be filled with meekness and humility. Let us take the hymn, “O, to be nothing, nothing,” and make it the language of our hearts. It breathes the spirit of Him who said: “The Son can do nothing of Himself!”

Oh to be nothing, nothing!

Only to lie at His feet,

A broken and emptied vessel,

For the Master’s use made meet.

Emptied, that He might fill me

As forth to His service I go;

Broken, that so unhindered,

His life through me might flow.

THE OVERCOMING LIFE--By D. L. MOODY--PART III. RESULTS OF TRUE REPENTANCE-Are Your Children Safe?

 

The text which I have selected has a special application to Christian people and to parents. This command of the Scripture was given to Noah not only for his own safety, but for his household, and the question which I put to each father and mother is this: “Are your children in the ark of God?” You may scoff at it, but it is a very important question. Are all your children in? Are all your grandchildren in? Don’t rest day or night until you get your children in. I believe my children have fifty temptations where I had one. I am one of those who believe that in the great cities there is a snare set upon the corner of every street for our sons and daughters, and I don’t believe it is our business to spend our time in accumulating bonds and stocks. Have I done all I can to get my children in? That is it.

Now, let me ask another question: What would have been Noah’s feelings if, when God called him into the ark, his children would not have gone with him? If he had lived such a false life that his children had no faith in his word, what would have been his feelings? He would have said: “There is my poor boy on the mountain. Would to God I had died in his place! I would rather have perished than had him perish.” David cried over his son: “Oh, my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom, would God I had died for thee!” Noah loved his children, and they had confidence in him.

Someone sent me a paper a number of years ago, containing an article that was marked. Its title was: “Are all the children in?” An old wife lay dying. She was nearly one hundred years of age, and the husband who had taken the journey with her, sat by her side. She was just breathing faintly, but suddenly she revived, opened her eyes, and said:

“Why! it is dark.”

“Yes, Janet, it is dark.”

“Is it night?”

“Oh, yes! it is midnight.”

“Are all the children in?”

There was that old mother living life over again. Her youngest child had been in the grave for twenty years, but she was traveling back into the old days, and she fell asleep in Christ asking, “Are all the children in?”

Dear friend, are they all in? Put the question to yourself now. Is John in? Is James in? Or is he immersed in business and pleasure? Is he living a double and dishonest life? Say! Where is your boy, mother? Where is your son, your daughter? Is it well with your children? Can you say it is?

After being superintendent of a Sunday school in Chicago for a number of years, a school of over a thousand members, children that came from godless homes, having mothers and fathers working against me, taking the children off on excursions on Sunday, and doing all they could to break up the work I was trying to do, I used to think that if I should ever stand before an audience I would speak to no one but parents; that would be my chief business. It is an old saying—“Get the lamb, and you will get the sheep.” I gave that up years ago. Give me the sheep, and then I will have someone to nurse the lamb; but get a lamb and convert him, and if he has a godless father and mother, you will have little chance with that child. What we want is godly homes. The home was established long before the Church.

I have no sympathy with the idea that our children have to grow up before they are converted. Once I saw a lady with three daughters at her side, and I stepped up to her and asked her if she was a Christian.

“Yes, sir.”

Then I asked the oldest daughter if she was a Christian. The chin began to quiver, and the tears came into her eyes, and she said,

“I wish I was.”

The mother looked very angrily at me and said, “I don’t want you to speak to my children on that subject. They don’t understand.” And in great rage she took them all away from me. One daughter was fourteen years old, one twelve, and the other ten, but they were not old enough to be talked to about religion. Let them drift into the world and plunge into worldly amusements, and then see how hard it is to reach them. Many a mother is mourning today because her boy has gone beyond her reach and will not allow her to pray with him. She may pray for him, but he will not let her pray or talk with him. In those early days when his mind was tender and young, she might have led him to Christ. Bring them in. “Suffer the little children to come unto Me.” Is there a prayerless father reading this? May God let the arrow go down into your soul! Make up your mind that, God helping you, you will get the children in. God’s order is to the father first, but if he isn’t true to his duty, then the mother should be true, and save the children from the wreck. Now is the time to do it while you have them under your roof. Exert your parental influence over them.

I never speak to my parents but I think of two fathers, one of whom lived on the banks of the Mississippi, the other in New York. The first one devoted all his time to amassing wealth. He had a son to whom he was much attached, and one day the boy was brought home badly injured. The father was informed that the boy could live for a short time, and he broke the news to his son as gently as possible.

“You say I cannot live, father? O! then pray for my soul,” said the boy.

In all those years that father had never said a prayer for that boy, and he told him he couldn’t. Shortly after, the boy died. That father has said since that he would give all that he possessed if he could call that boy back only to offer one short prayer for him.

The other father had a boy who had been sick for some time, and he came home one day and found his wife weeping. She said:

“I cannot help but believe that this is going to prove fatal.”

The man started, and said: “If you think so, I wish you would tell him.”

But the mother could not tell her boy. The father went to the sick room, and he saw that death was feeling for the cords of life, and he said:

“My son, do you know you are not going to live?”

The little fellow looked up and said: “No; is this death that I feel stealing over me? Will I die today?”

“Yes, my son, you cannot live the day out.”

And the little fellow smiled and said: “Well, father, I shall be with Jesus tonight, shan’t I?”

“Yes, you will spend the night with the Lord,” and the father broke down and wept.

The little fellow saw the tears and said: “Don’t weep for me. I will go to Jesus and tell Him that ever since I can remember you have prayed for me.”

I have three children, and if God should take them from me, I would rather have them take such a message home to Him than have the wealth of the whole world. Oh! would to God I could say something to stir you, fathers and mothers, to get your children into the ark.