“Oh that thou
wouldest bless me indeed!”
— 1
Chronicles 4:10.
WE know very little about Jabez,
except that he was more honorable than his brethren, and that he was
called Jabez because his mother bare him with sorrow. It will
sometimes happen that where there is the most sorrow in the
antecedents, there will be the most pleasure in the sequel. As the
furious storm gives place to the clear sunshine, so the night of
weeping precedes the morning of joy. Sorrow the harbinger; gladness
the prince it ushers in.
Cowper says: —“The path
of sorrow, and that path
alone, Leads to the
place where sorrow is unknown.”
To a great extent we find that we must sow in
tears before we can reap in joy. Many of our works for Christ have
cost us tears. Difficulties and disappointments have wrung our soul
with anguish. Yet those projects that have cost us more than
ordinary sorrow, have often turned out to be the most honorable of
our undertakings. While our grief called the offspring of desire
“Benoni,” the son of my sorrow, our faith has been afterwards able
to give it a name of delight, “Benjamin,” the son of my right hand.
You may expect a blessing in serving God if you are enabled to
persevere under many discouragements. The ship is often long coming
home, because detained on the road by excess of cargo. Expect her
freight to be the better when she reaches the port. More honorable
than his brethren was the child whom his mother bore with sorrow. As
for this Jabez, whose aim was so well pointed, his fame so far
sounded, his name so lastingly embalmed — he was a man of prayer.
The honor he enjoyed would not have been worth having if it had not
been vigorously contested and equitably won. His devotion was the
key to his promotion. Those are the best honors that
come
from God, the award of grace with the acknowledgment of
service.
When
Jacob was surnamed Israel, he received his princedom after a
memorable night of prayer. Surely it was far more honorable to him
than if it had been bestowed upon him as a flattering distinction by
some earthly emperor. The best honor is that which a man gains in
communion with the Most High. Jabez, we are told, was more honorable
than his brethren, and his prayer is forthwith recorded, as if to
intimate that he was also more prayerful than his brethren. We are
told of what petitions his prayer consisted. All through it was very significant
and instructive. We have only time to take one clause of it —
indeed, that one clause may be said to comprehend the rest: “Oh that
thou wouldest bless me indeed!” I commend it as a prayer for
yourselves, dear brethren and sisters; one which will be available
at all seasons; a prayer to begin Christian life with, a prayer to
end it with, a prayer which would never be unseasonable in your joys
or in your sorrows.
Oh that thou, the God of Israel, the
covenant God, would bless me indeed! The very pith of the prayer
seems to lie in that word, “indeed.” There are many varieties of
blessing. Some are blessings only in name: they gratify our wishes
for a moment, but permanently disappoint our expectations. They
charm the eye, but pall on the taste. Others are mere temporary
blessings: they perish with the using. Though for awhile they regale
the senses, they cannot satisfy the higher cravings of the soul.
But, “Oh that thou wouldest bless me indeed!” I wot whom God
blesseth shall be blessed. The thing good in itself is bestowed with
the good-will of the giver, and shall be productive of so much good
fortune to the recipient that it may well be esteemed as a blessing
“indeed,” for there is nothing comparable to it. Let the grace of
God prompt it, let the choice of God appoint it, let the bounty of
God confer it, and then the endowment shall be something godlike
indeed; something worthy of the lips that pronounce the benediction,
and verily to be craved by every one who seeks honor that is
substantial and enduring. “Oh that thou wouldest bless me indeed!”
Think it over, and you will see that there is a depth of meaning in
the expression.
We may set this in contrast with human
blessings: “Oh that thou wouldest bless me
indeed!” It is very delightful to be blessed by our
parents, and those venerable friends whose benedictions come from
their hearts, and are backed up by their prayers. Many a poor man
has had no other legacy to leave his children except his blessing,
but the blessing of an honest, holy, Christian father is a rich
treasure to his son. One might well feel it were
a thing to be deplored through life if he had
lost a parent’s blessing. We like to
have it. The blessing of our spiritual parents is consolatory.
Though we believe in no priestcraft, we like to live in the
affections of those who were the means of bringing us to Christ, and
from whose lips we were instructed in
the things of God. And how very precious is the blessing of the
poor! I do not wonder that Job treasured that up as a
sweet thing. “When the ear heard me, then it
blessed me.” If you have relieved the widow and the
fatherless, and their thanks are returned to you in benediction, it
is no mean reward. But, dear friends, after all — all that parents,
relatives, saints, and grateful persons can do in the way of
blessing, falls very far short of what we desire to
have.
O Lord, we would have the blessings of
our fellow-creatures, the blessings that come from their hearts;
but, “Oh that Thou wouldest bless me indeed!” for thou canst
bless with authority. Their blessings may be but words, but thine
are effectual. They may often wish what they cannot do, and desire
to give what they have not at their own disposal, but thy will is
omnipotent. Thou didst create the world with but a word. O that such
omnipotence would now bespeak me thy blessing! Other blessings may
bring us some tiny cheer, but in thy favor is life. Other blessings
are mere tittles in comparison with thy blessing; for thy blessing
is the title “to an inheritance
incorruptible” and unfading, to “a
kingdom which cannot be moved.” Well therefore might
David pray in another place, “With thy
blessing let the house of thy servant be blessed for
ever.”
Perhaps in this place, Jabez may have
put the blessing of God in contrast with the blessings of men. Men
will bless thee when thou doest well for thyself. They will praise
the man who is successful in business. Nothing succeeds like
success. Nothing has so much the approval of the general public as a
man’s prosperity. Alas! they do not weigh men’s actions in the
balances of the sanctuary, but in quite other scales. You will find
those about you who will commend you if you are prosperous; or like
Job’s comforters, condemn you if you suffer adversity. Perhaps there
may be some feature about their blessings that may please you,
because you feel you deserve them. They commend you for your
patriotism: you have been a patriot. They commend you for your
generosity: you know you have been self-sacrificing. Well, but after
all, what is there in the verdict of man?
At a trial, the verdict of the policeman who
stands in the court, or of the spectators who sit in the
court-house, amounts to just nothing. The man who is being tried
feels that the only thing that is of importance at all will be the
verdict of the jury, and the sentence of the judge. So it will
little avail us whatever we may do, how others commend or censure.
Their blessings are not of any great value. But,
“Oh that thou wouldest
bless,” that
thou wouldest say, “Well done, good and
faithful servant.” Commend thou the feeble service that
through thy grace my heart has rendered. That will be to bless me
indeed.
Men are sometimes blessed in a very
fulsome sense by flattery. There are always those who, like the fox
in the fable, hope to gain the cheese by praising the crow. They
never saw such plumage, and no voice could be so sweet as yours. The
whole of their mind is set, not on you, but on what they are to gain
by you. The race of flatterers is never extinct, though the
flattered usually flatter themselves it is so. They may conceive
that men flatter others, but all is so palpable and transparent when
heaped upon themselves, that they accept it with a great deal of
self-complacency, as being perhaps a little exaggerated, but after
all exceedingly near the truth.
We are not very apt to take a large
discount off the praises that others offer us; yet, were we wise, we
should press to our bosom those who censure us; and we should always
keep at arm’s length those who praise us, for those who censure us
to our face cannot possibly be making a market of us; but with
regard to those who extol us, rising early, and using loud sentences
of praise, we may suspect, and we shall very seldom be unjust in the
suspicion, that there is some other motive in the praise which they
render to us than that which appears on the surface. Young man, art
thou placed in a position where God honors thee? Beware of
flatterers. Or hast thou come into a large estate? Hast thou
abundance? There are always flies where there is honey. Beware of
flattery. Young woman, art thou fair to look upon? There will be
those about thee that will have their designs, perhaps their evil
designs, in lauding thy beauty. Beware of flatterers. Turn thou
aside from all these who have honey on their tongue, because of the
poison of asps that is under it. Bethink thee of Solomon’s caution,
“meddle not with him that flattereth with his
lips.” Cry to God, “Deliver thou
me from all this vain adulation, which nauseates my
soul.” So shalt thou pray to him the more fervently,
“Oh that thou wouldest bless me
indeed!” Let me have thy benediction, which never says
more than it means; which never gives less than it promises. If you
take then the prayer of Jabez as being put in contrast with the
benedictions which come from men, you see much force in it.
But we may put it in another light, and compare
the blessing Jabez craved with those blessings that are temporal
and transient. There are many bounties given to us mercifully by
God for which we are bound to be very
with
gratitude, but we must not make them our idols. When we have
them we have great need to cry, “Oh that thou
wouldest bless me indeed, and make these inferior blessings real
blessings;” and if we have them not, we should with greater
vehemence cry, “Oh that we may be rich in faith, and if not blessed
with these external favors, may we be blessed spiritually, and then
we shall be blessed indeed.”
Let us review some of these mercies, and
just say a word or two about them. One of the first cravings of
men’s hearts is wealth. So universal the desire to gain it,
that we might almost say it is a natural instinct. How many have
thought if they once possessed it they should be blessed indeed! but
there are ten thousand proofs that happiness consists not in the
abundance which a man possesseth. So many instances are well known
to you all, that I need not quote any to show that riches are not a
blessing indeed. They are rather apparently than really so. Hence,
it has been well said, that when we see how much a man has we envy
him; but could we see how little he enjoys we should pity him. Some
that have had the most easy circumstances have had the most uneasy
minds. Those who have acquired all they could wish, had their wishes
been at all sane, have been led by the possession of what they had
to be discontented because they had not more.
“Thus the base
miser starves amidst his store, Broods o’er his gold, and
griping still at more, Sits sadly pining, and believes he’s
poor.”
Nothing
is more clear to any one who chooses to observe it, than that riches
are not the chief good at whose advent sorrow flies, and in whose
presence joy perennial springs. Full often wealth cozens the owner.
Dainties are spread on his table, but his appetite fails, minstrels
wait his bidding, but his ears are deaf to all the strains of music;
holidays he may have as many as he pleases, but for him recreation
has lost all its charms: or he is young, fortune has come to him by
inheritance, and he makes pleasure his pursuit till sport becomes
more irksome than work, and dissipation worse than drudgery. Ye know
how riches make themselves wings; like the bird that roosted on the
tree, they fly away. In sickness and despondency these ample means
that once seemed to whisper, “Soul, take thine ease,”
prove themselves to be poor comforters. In death they even tend to
make the pang of separation more acute, because there is the more to
leave, the more to lose. We may well say, if we have
wealth, “My God, put me not off with
these husks; let me never make a god of the silver and the gold, the
goods and the chattels, the estates and investments, which in thy
providence thou hast given me. I beseech thee, bless me indeed. As
for these worldly possessions, they will be my bane unless I have
thy grace with them.” And if you have not wealth, and perhaps the
most of you will never have it, say, “My Father, thou hast denied me
this outward and seeming good, enrich me with thy love, give me the
gold of thy favor, bless me indeed; then allot to others whatever
thou wilt, thou shalt divide my portion, my soul shall wait thy
daily will; do thou bless me indeed, and I shall be content.”
Another transient blessing which our
poor humanity fondly covets and eagerly pursues is fame. In
this respect we would fain be more honorable than our brethren, and
outstrip all our competitors. It seems natural to us all to wish to
make a name, and gain some note in the circle we move in at any
rate, and we wish to make that circle wider if we can. But here, as
of riches, it is indisputable that the greatest fame does not bring
with it any equal measure of gratification. Men, in seeking after
notoriety or honor, have a degree of pleasure in the search which
they do not always possess when they have gained their object. Some
of the most famous men have also been the most wretched of the human
race. If thou hast honor and fame, accept it; but let this prayer go
up, “My God, bless thou me indeed, for what profit were it, if my
name were in a thousand mouths, if thou shouldest spew it out of thy
mouth? What matter, though my name were written on marble, if it
were not written in the Lamb’s Book of Life? These blessings are
only apparently blessings, windy blessings, blessings that mock me.
Give me thy blessing: then the honor which comes of thee will make
me blessed indeed.” If you happen to have lived in obscurity, and
have never entered the lists for honors among your fellow-men, be
content to run well your own course and fulfill truly your own
vocation. To lack fame is not the most grievous of ills; it is worse
to have it like the snow, that whitens the ground in the morning,
and disappears in the heat of the day. What matters it to a dead man
that men are talking of him? Get thou the blessing indeed.
There is another temporal blessing which wise
men desire, and legitimately may wish for rather than the other two
— the blessing of health. Can we ever prize it sufficiently?
To trifle with such a boon is the madness of folly. The highest
eulogiums that can be passed on health would not
be extravagant. He that has a healthy body is
infinitely more blessed than he who is sickly, whatever his estates may be.
Yet if I have health, my bones well set, and my muscles well strung,
if I scarcely know an ache or pain, but can rise in the morning, and
with elastic step go forth to labor, and cast myself upon my couch
at night, and sleep the sleep of the happy, yet, oh let me not glory
in my strength! In a moment it may fail me. A few short weeks may
reduce the strong man to a skeleton. Consumption may set in, the
cheek may pale with the shadow of death. Let not the strong man
glory in his strength. The Lord “delighteth
not in the strength of the horse: he taketh not pleasure in the legs
of a man.” And let us not make our boast concerning these
things. Say, thou that are in good health, “My God, bless me indeed.
Give me the healthy soul. Heal me of my spiritual diseases.
Jehovah Rophi come, and purge out the
leprosy that is in my heart by nature: make me healthy in the
heavenly sense, that I may not be put aside among the unclean, but
allowed to stand amongst the congregation of thy saints. Bless my
bodily health to me that I may use it rightly, spending the strength
I have in thy service and to thy glory; otherwise, though blessed
with health, I may not be blessed indeed.” Some of you, dear
friends, do not possess the great treasure of health. Wearisome days
and nights are appointed you. Your bones are become an almanac, in
which you note the changes of the weather. There is much about you
that is fitted to excite pity. But I pray that you may have the
blessing indeed, and I know what that is. I can heartily sympathize
with a sister that said to me the other day, “I had such nearness to
God when I was sick, such full assurance, and such joy in the Lord,
and I regret to say I have lost it now; that I could almost wish to
be ill again, if thereby I might have a renewal of communion with
God.” I have oftentimes looked gratefully back to my sick chamber. I
am certain that I never did grow in grace one half so much anywhere
as I have upon the bed of pain. It ought not to be so. Our joyous
mercies ought to be great fertilizers to our spirit; but not
infrequently our griefs are more salutary than our joys. The pruning
knife is best for some of us. Well, after all, whatever you have to
suffer, of weakness, of debility, of pain, and anguish, may it be so
attended with the divine presence, that this light affliction may
work out for you a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory,
and so you may be blessed indeed.
I will only dwell upon one more temporal mercy,
which is very precious — I mean the blessing of home. I do
not think any one can ever prize it too highly, or speak too well of
it. What a blessing it is to have the fireside,
and the dear relationships that gather round the
word “Home,” wife, children, father, brother, sister! Why, there are no
songs in any language that are more full of music than those
dedicated to “Mother.” We hear a great deal about the German
“Fatherland” — we like the sound. But the word, “Father,” is the
whole of it. The “land” is nothing: the “Father” is key to the
music. There are many of us, I hope, blessed with a great many of
these relationships. Do not let us be content to solace our souls
with ties that must ere long be sundered. Let us ask that over and
above them may come the blessing indeed. I thank thee, my God, for
my earthly father; but oh, be thou my Father, then am I blessed
indeed. I thank thee, my God, for a mother’s love; but comfort thou
my soul as one whom a mother comforteth, then am I blessed indeed. I
thank thee, Savior, for the marriage bond; but be thou the
bridegroom of my soul. I thank thee for the tie of brotherhood; but
be thou my brother born for adversity, bone of my bone, and flesh of
my flesh. The home thou hast given me I prize, and thank thee for
it; but I would dwell in the house of the Lord for ever, and be a
child that never wanders, wherever my feet may travel, from my
Father’s house with its many mansions. You can thus be blessed
indeed. If not domiciled under the paternal care of the Almighty,
even the blessing of home, with all its sweet familiar comforts,
does not reach to the benediction which Jabez desired for himself.
But do I speak to any here that are separated from kith and kin? I
know some of you have left behind you in the bivouac of life graves
where parts of your heart are buried, and that which remains is
bleeding with just so many wounds. Ah, well! the Lord bless you
indeed!
Widow, thy maker is thy husband.
Fatherless one, he hath said, “I will not leave you comfortless: I
will come to you.” Oh, to find all your relationships made up in
him, then you will be blessed indeed! I have perhaps taken too long
a time in mentioning these temporary blessings, so let me set the
text in another light. I trust we have had human blessings and
temporary blessings, to fill our hearts with gladness, but not to
foul our hearts with worldliness, or to distract our attention from
the things that belong to our everlasting welfare.
Let us proceed, thirdly, to speak of
imaginary blessings. There are such in the world. From them
may God deliver us. “Oh that thou wouldest bless me indeed!” Take
the Pharisee. He stood in the Lord’s house, and he thought he had
the Lord’s blessing, and it made him very bold, and he spoke with
unctuous self-complacency, “God, I
thank thee, that I am not as other men are,” and so on.
He had the blessing, and well indeed he supposed himself to have merited it. He had
fasted twice in the week, paid
tithes
of all that he possessed, even to the odd farthing on the mint, and
the extra halfpenny on the cumin he had used. He
felt he had done everything. His the blessing of a quiet or a
quiescent conscience; good, easy man. He was a pattern to the
parish. It was a pity everybody did not live as he did; if they had,
they would not have wanted any
police.
Pilate might have dismissed his guards,
and Herod his soldiers. He was just one of the most excellent
persons that ever breathed. He adored the city of which he was a
burgess! Ay; but he was not blessed indeed. This was all his own
overweening conceit. He was a mere wind-bag, nothing more and the
blessing which he fancied had fallen upon him, had never come. The
poor publican whom he thought accursed, went to his home justified
rather than he. The blessing had not fallen on the man who thought
he had it. Oh, let every one of us here feel the sting of this
rebuke, and pray: “Great God, save us from imputing to ourselves a
righteousness which we do not possess. Save us from wrapping
ourselves up in our own rags, and fancying we have put on the
wedding garments. Bless me indeed. Let me have the true
righteousness. Let me have the true worthiness which thou canst
accept, even that which is of faith in Jesus Christ.”
Another form of this imaginary blessing
is found in persons who would scorn to be thought
self-righteous. Their delusion, however, is near akin. I hear
them singing —
“I do believe, I
will believe That Jesus died for me, And on his cross he shed
his blood, From sin to set me free.”
You believe it, you say. Well, but how
do you know? Upon what authority do you make so sure? Who told you?
“Oh, I believe it.” Yes, but we must mind what we believe. Have you
any clear evidence of a special interest in the blood of Jesus? Can
you give any spiritual reasons for believing that Christ has set you
free from sin? I am afraid that some have got a hope that has not
got any ground, like an anchor without any fluke — nothing to grasp,
nothing to lay hold upon. They say they are saved, and they stick to
it they are, and think it wicked to doubt it; but yet they have no
reason to warrant their confidence.
When the sons of Kohath carried the ark, and
touched it with their hands, they did rightly; but when Uzzah
touched it he died. There are those who are ready to be fully
assured; there are others to whom it will be death to talk of it.
There is a great difference between solid
ground. Presumption takes for granted, and with brazen face
pronounces that to be its own to which it has no right whatever.
Beware, I pray thee, of presuming that thou art saved. If with thy
heart thou dost trust in Jesus, then art thou saved; but if thou
merely sayest, “I trust in Jesus,” it doth not save thee. If thy
heart be renewed, if thou shalt hate the things that thou didst once
love, and love the things that thou didst once hate; if thou hast
really repented; if there be a thorough change of mind in thee; if
thou be born again, then hast thou reason to rejoice: but if there
be no vital change, no inward godliness; if there be no love to God,
no prayer, no work of the Holy Spirit, then thy saying, “I am
saved,” is but thine own assertion, and it may delude, but it will
not deliver thee. Our prayer ought to be, “Oh that thou wouldest
bless me indeed, with real faith, with real salvation, with the
trust in Jesus that is the essential of faith; not with the conceit
that begets credulity. God preserve us from imaginary blessings!” I
have met with persons who said, “I believe I am saved, because I
dreamt it.” Or, “Because I had a text of Scripture that applied to
my own case. Such and such a good man said so and so
in his sermon.” Or, “Because I took to weeping and was excited, and
felt as I never felt before.” Ah! but nothing will stand the trial
but this, “Dost thou abjure all confidence in everything but the
finished work of Jesus, and dost thou come to Christ to be
reconciled in him to God?” If thou dost not, thy dreams, and
visions, and fancies, are but dreams, and visions, and fancies, and
will not serve thy turn when most thou needest them. Pray the Lord
to bless thee indeed, for of that sterling verity in all thy walk
and talk there is a great scarcity.
Too much I am afraid, that even those who are
saved — saved for time and eternity — need this caution, and have
good cause to pray this prayer that they may learn to make a
distinction between some things which they think to be spiritual
blessings, and others which are blessings indeed. Let me show you
what I mean. Is it certainly a blessing to get an answer to your
prayer after your own mind? I always like to qualify my most earnest
prayer with, “Not as I will, but as thou wilt.” Not only ought I to
do it, but I would like to do it, because otherwise I might ask for
something which it would be dangerous for me to receive. God might
give it me in anger, and I might find little sweetness in the grant,
but much soreness in the grief it caused me. You remember how Israel
of old asked for flesh, and God gave them quails; but while the meat
was yet in their mouths the wrath of God came upon them. Ask for the
meat, if you like, but always put in this: “Lord, if this is not a real blessing, do
not give it me.” “Bless me
indeed.”
I
hardly
like to repeat the old story of the good woman whose son was ill
— a little child near death’s door — and she
begged the minister, a Puritan, to pray for its life. He did pray
very earnestly, but he put in, “If it be thy will, save this child.”
The woman said, “I cannot bear that: I must have you pray that the
child shall live. Do not put in any ifs or buts.” “Woman,” said the
minister, “it may be you will live to rue the day that ever you
wished to set your will up against God’s will.” Twenty years
afterwards, she was carried away in a fainting fit from under Tyburn
gallows-tree, where that son was put to death as a felon. Although
she had lived to see her child grow up to be a man, it would have
been infinitely better for her had the child died, and infinitely
wiser had she left it to God’s will. Do not be quite so sure that
what you think an answer to prayer is any proof of divine love. It
may leave much room for thee to seek unto the Lord, saying, “Oh that
thou wouldest blessed me indeed!” So sometimes great exhilaration of
spirit, liveliness of heart, even though it be religious joy, may
not always be a blessing. We delight in it, and oh, sometimes when
we have had gatherings for prayer here, the fire has burned, and our
souls have glowed! We felt at the time how we could sing —
“My willing soul
would stay In such a frame as this, And sit and sing herself
away To everlasting bliss.”
So far as that was a blessing we are
thankful for it; but I should not like to set such seasons up, as if
my enjoyments were the main token of God’s favor; or as if they were
the chief signs of his blessing. Perhaps it would be a greater
blessing to me to be broken in spirit, and laid low
before the Lord at the present time. When you ask for the highest
joy, and pray to be on the mountain with Christ, remember it may be
as much a blessing; yea, a blessing indeed to be brought into the
Valley of Humiliation, to be laid very low, and constrained to cry
out in anguish, “Lord, save, or I perish!”
“If to-day he
deigns to bless us With a sense of pardon’d sin, He to-morrow
may distress us, Make us feel the plague within, All to make
us Sick of self, and fond of him.”
These variable experiences of ours may
be blessings indeed to us, when, had we been always rejoicing, we might have
been like Moab, settled on our lees,
and not emptied from vessel to vessel. It fares ill with those who
have no changes; they fear not God. Have we not, dear friends,
sometimes envied those persons that are always calm and unruffled,
and are never perturbed in mind? Well, there are Christians whose
evenness of temper deserves to be emulated. And as for that calm
repose, that unwavering assurance which comes from the Spirit of
God, it is a very delightful attainment; but I am not sure that we
ought to envy anybody’s lot because it is more tranquil or less
exposed to storm and tempest than our own.
There is a danger of saying, “Peace,
peace,” where there is no peace, and there is a calmness which
arises from callousness. Dupes there are who deceive their own
souls. “They have no doubts,” they say, but it is because they have
little heart searching. They have no anxieties, because they have
not much enterprise or many pursuits to stir them up. Or it may be
they have no pains, because they have no life. Better go to heaven,
halt and maimed, than go marching on in confidence down to hell. “Oh
that thou wouldest bless me indeed!” My God, I will envy no one of
his gifts or his graces, much less of his inward mood or his outward
circumstances, if only thou wilt “bless me indeed.” I would not be
comforted unless thou comfortest me, nor have any peace but Christ
my peace, nor any rest but the rest which cometh from the sweet
savor of the sacrifice of Christ.
Christ shall be all in all, and none
shall be anything to me save himself. O that we might always feel
that we are not to judge as to the manner of the blessing, but must
leave it with God to give us what we would have, not the imaginary
blessing, the superficial and apparent blessing, but the blessing
indeed!
Equally too with regard to our work and
service, I think our prayer should always be, “Oh that thou wouldest
bless me indeed!” It is lamentable to see the work of some good men,
though it is not ours to judge them, how very pretentious,
but how very unreal it is. It is really shocking to think how some
men pretend to build up a church in the course of two or three
evenings. They will report, in the corner of the newspapers, that
there were forty-three persons convinced of sin, and forty-six
justified, and sometimes thirty-eight sanctified; I do not know what
besides of wonderful statistics they give as to all that is
accomplished. I have observed congregations that have been speedily
gathered together, and great additions have been made to the church
all of a sudden. And what has become of them? Where are those
churches at the present moment? The dreariest deserts in Christendom are those places that were
fertilized by the patent manures of certain revivalists. The whole church seemed
to have spent its strength in one rush and effort after something,
and it ended in nothing at all. They built their wooden house, and
piled up the hay, and made a stubble spire that seemed to reach the
heavens, and there fell one spark, and all went away in smoke; and
he that came to labor next time — the successor of the great builder
— had to get the ashes swept away before he could do any good. The
prayer of every one that serves God should be, “Oh that thou
wouldest bless me indeed.” Plod on, plod on. If I only build one
piece of masonry in my life, and nothing more, if it be gold,
silver, or precious stones, it is a good deal for a man to do; of
such precious stuff as that, to build even one little corner which
will not show, is a worthy service. It will not be much talked of,
but it will last. There is the point: it will last.
“Establish thou the work of our hands upon us; yea,
the work of our hands establish thou it.” If we are not
builders in an established church, it is of little use to try at
all. What God establishes will stand, but what men build without his
establishment will certainly come to nought. “Oh that thou wouldest
bless me indeed !” Sunday-school teacher, be this your
prayer. Tract
distributor, local preacher, whatever you may be, dear brother or
sister, whatever your form of service, do ask the Lord that you may
not be one of those plaster builders using sham compo that only
requires a certain amount of frost and weather to make it crumble to
pieces. Be it yours, if you cannot build a cathedral, to build at
least one part of the marvelous temple that God is piling for
eternity, which will outlast the stars.
I have one thing more to mention before I bring
this sermon to a close. The blessings of God’s grace are blessings
indeed, which in right earnest we ought to seek after. By these
marks shall ye know them. Blessings indeed, are such blessings as
come from the pierced hand; blessings that come from Calvary's
bloody tree, streaming from the Savior’s wounded side — thy
pardon, thine acceptance, thy spiritual life: the bread that is meat
indeed, the blood that is drink indeed — thy oneness to Christ, and
all that comes of it — these are blessings
indeed.
Any blessing that comes as the result of the
Spirit’s work in thy soul is a blessing indeed; though it humble
thee, though it strip thee, though it kill thee, it is a blessing
indeed. Though the harrow go over and over thy soul, and the
deep plough cut into thy very heart; though thou be maimed and
wounded, and left for dead, yet if the Spirit of God do it, it is a
blessing indeed. If he convinceth thee of sin, of righteousness, and
of judgment, even though thou hast not hitherto
been brought to Christ, it is a blessing indeed.
Anything that he does, accept it; do not be dubious of it; but pray that he may
continue his blessed operations in thy
soul.
Whatsoever leads thee to God is in like
manner a blessing indeed. Riches may not do it. There may be a
golden wall between thee and God. Health will not do it: even the
strength and marrow of thy bones may keep thee at a distance from
thy God. But anything that draws thee nearer to him is a blessing
indeed. What though it be a cross that raiseth thee? yet if it raise
thee to God it shall be a blessing indeed.
Anything that reaches into eternity,
with a preparation for the world to come, anything that we can carry
across the river, the holy joy that is to blossom in those fields
beyond the swelling flood, the pure cloudless love of the
brotherhood which is to be the atmosphere of truth for ever —
anything of this kind that has the eternal broad arrow on it — the
immutable mark — is a blessing indeed. And anything which
helps me to glorify God is a blessing indeed. If I be sick, and
that helps me to praise him, it is a blessing indeed. If I be poor,
and I can serve him better in poverty than in wealth, it is a
blessing indeed. If I be in contempt, I will rejoice in that day and
leap for joy, if it be for Christ’s sake — it is a blessing indeed.
Yea, my faith shakes off the disguise, snatches the vizor from
the fair forehead of the blessing, and counts it all joy to all into
divers trials for the sake of Jesus and the recompense of reward
that he has promised. “Oh that we may be
blessed indeed!”
Now, I send you away with these three
words: “Search.” See whether the blessings are blessings
indeed, and be not satisfied unless you know that they are of God,
tokens of his grace, and earnests of his saving purpose.
“Weigh” — that shall be the next word.
Whatever thou hast, weigh it in the scale, and ascertain if it be a
blessing indeed, conferring such grace upon you as causeth you to
abound in love, and to abound in every good word and
work.
And lastly, “Pray.” So pray that this
prayer may mingle with all thy prayers, that whatsoever God grants
or whatever he withholds thou mayest be blessed indeed. Is it a
joy-time with thee? O that Christ may mellow thy joy, and prevent
the intoxication of earthly blessedness from leading thee aside from
close walking with him! In the night of sorrow, pray that he will
bless thee indeed, lest the wormwood also intoxicate thee and make
thee drunk, lest thy afflictions should make thee think hardly of
him. Pray for the blessing, which having, thou art rich to all the
intents of bliss, or which lacking, thou art poor and destitute,
though plenty fill thy store. “If thy presence go not with me, carry
us not up hence.” But “Oh that thou
wouldest bless me indeed!”
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