Food for the Lambs; or, Helps for Young Christians written by Charles Ebert Orr
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Charles Ebert Orr >> Food for the Lambs; or, Helps for Young Christians
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The Greek text of 2 Cor. 3:18 is beautifully rendered in these words by
the above mentioned translators: "With face unveiled we behold in a
mirror the brightness of our Lord's glory, are ourselves transformed
into the same likeness; and the glory which shines upon us is reflected
by us, even as it proceeds from the Lord, the Spirit." These words are
full of grandeur to my soul. Their wondrous beauty and sublimity can not
fail to awaken admiration in every Spirit-quickened and purity-loving
heart. You will see, Christian reader, the position you occupy as a
follower of the Lamb of God. You are a reflector; you have no light of
yourself. God shines his glory upon you and you reflect it to the world,
and thus you become the light of the world. In one translation
"character" is used instead of "glory." God's character is shined into
your soul, and you are to reflect it to the world.
There is another clause in the above quotation too full of riches and
too well adapted to this work to pass by unnoticed. It is this: "We
behold in a mirror the brightness of our Lord's glory, are ourselves
transformed into the same likeness." We do not grow into salvation,
neither do we grow into sanctification; but after we receive this
glorious experience there is still a continual transforming into a more
perfect likeness of Christ. While in the Museum of Art in one of our
large cities last spring I saw an artist reproducing on canvas a
painting which hung upon the wall. I looked upon the painting on the
wall and upon the reproduction before the artist. So far as I could see
the reproduction was in exact imitation of the original; but the eye of
the artist could see farther than mine. He kept on applying the brush,
giving a slight touch here and a slight touch there, and soon I
discovered that the features stood out in more perfect imitation. So let
us stand before the original and let the Holy Spirit work in us that
which is pleasing to God, and we shall be continually transformed into a
more perfect likeness of God. This must be your daily life. Attend
strictly to every Christian duty, be obedient to the Word and Spirit of
God, and you will become more and more like him and your soul will be
rich in grace.
BECOMING.
One translation has rendered Phil. 1:27 in these beautiful words: "Let
your manner of life be becoming the gospel of Christ." We speak of
anything being becoming when it gives a good appearance. An article of
clothing becomes you when it gives you a better or less awkward
appearance. So your life is to be becoming to the gospel of Christ. You
are to live so that your life will make the gospel of Christ more
beautiful to the hearts of men. You can do this only by living just as
the Bible reads. All the precious truths of the Bible are to read in
your life just as they do in the Bible, and thus your life will give a
better appearance to God's Word and make it more real and interesting to
the unsaved.
LOVE OF HOME.
[Illustration: A HAPPY HOME.]
There are but few sweeter words in the English language than the word
_home_. I have thought the three sweetest words are _mother, home_, and
_heaven_. Home is the dearest place in all the world to the Christian
heart. To have a fond love for home is not at all injurious to Christian
character. Those who have but little love for home will never succeed
well in the Christian life. It may sometimes occur that some of the home
members are so disagreeable that the Christian for peace' sake will quit
the home roof; but he still loves home. Sometimes young people think
that to enjoy life they must get out from under parental rule and roof.
We have an instance of this nature recorded in the Bible. How soon we
learn of the prodigal's longing for the comforts of home. How often he
thought of his father's house, that place so dear to him now. The love
of home is a high mark of integrity. Show me one who has no love for
home, and I will show you one who has but little true manhood or
womanhood. The Bible command to young Christians is to be "chaste,
keepers at home." When our duty and service to God demand our absence
from home we submit and go in the strength of his grace, but lose not
our love for home, and return in joy at Father's will.
You can nowhere find more of heaven upon earth than in a Christian home.
Look at the picture: A father with the Holy Bible, the mother and
children listening in reverence to the heavenly message. Where, I say,
can you find more of heaven? Such a scene is most sweet and sacred.
Methinks the angels bend low to catch the chants of praise that arise
from those devoted hearts to the gates of heaven. "Such a picture," you
may say, "is very beautiful and inspiring to look upon, but where is the
reality?" Thank God, such a home can be real in life, and it is your
duty as a Christian to help make it so. God is pleased with such a home.
It is much to his praise. Since such homes are so rare they are all the
more glorifying to God, and we should strive the more earnestly to have
them real.
In your home is the place to shine for God. It is the place to shed
forth the radiant beams of Christian light from your grace-ladened soul.
If you hope to prosper in the divine life, be your best at home. Do not
think you can be careless at home and then shine in the splendor of
Christian virtue when before the public. Your life at home leaves its
mark upon you. Shine in Christian beauty at home, and you will shine in
beauty in public; but attempt away from home to be more than you are at
home, and you will miserably fail. A few years ago while in one of our
large Eastern cities laboring for Jesus and souls for whom he died I
wrote a few lines to the dear ones at home, which perhaps will not be
out of place to insert here.
When the light of day is dying
And the shades of night steal on,
Voices to my mem'ry whisper
Of the dear loved ones at home.
Ere the chandelier is lighted,
Ere the day's last ray is gone,
O'er me comes a fond remembrance
Of the dear loved ones at home.
Far above in arch of heaven
Lamps are lighted one by one,
But I only see the bright eyes
Of the dear loved ones at home.
Far away beyond the region
Where I see those shining stars,
Somewhere in the land of angels,
Dwells a little boy of ours.
Years ago one wintry evening
Heaven's gate was opened wide,
And an angel swift descended,
With a sickle at his side.
Paused he at our boy's low trundle
In the evening twilight hour,
Caught away his happy spirit
To its home beyond the stars.
How my heart adores the Giver
Of all good o'er land and sea,
But I praise him more than ever
For the dear ones left to me.
As I think of her he gave me
In my happy youthful time,
How he bound our hearts together
At love's pure and sacred shrine;
As I think of her this moment,
Given me by love divine,
Seems I almost feel the pressure
Of her gentle hand in mine.
In the arms of night I'm folded,
Soon in dreamland I shall roam;
Then I'll go and see the dear ones--
See the dear loved ones at home.
VICTORY.
When you are forgotten or neglected, or purposely set at naught, and you
smile inwardly, glorying in the insult or the oversight, because thereby
counted worthy to suffer with Christ--that is victory.
When your good is evil spoken of, when your wishes are crossed, your
taste offended, your advice disregarded, your opinions ridiculed, and
you take it all in patient, loving silence--that is victory.
When you are content with any food, any raiment, any climate, any
society, any solitude, any interruption by the will of God--that is
victory.
When you can lovingly and patiently bear with any disorder, any
irregularity, any unpunctuality, or any annoyance--that is victory.
When you can stand face to face with waste, folly, extravagance,
spiritual insensibility, and endure it all as Jesus endured it--that is
victory.
When you never care to refer to yourself in conversation or to record
your own good works, or to itch after commendation, when you can truly
love to be unknown--that is victory.
When, like Paul, you can throw all your suffering on Jesus, thus
converting it into a means of knowing his overcoming grace, and can say
from a surrendered heart, "Most gladly," therefore, do "I take pleasure
in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in
distresses, for Christ's sake"--that is victory. 2 Cor. 12:7-11.
When death and life are both alike to you through Christ, and to do his
perfect will, you delight not more in one than the other--that is
victory, for, through him, you may become able to say, "Christ shall be
magnified in my body, whether it be by life or by death." Phil. 1:20.
"Death is swallowed up in victory." 1 Cor. 15:54.
The perfect victory is to "put on the Lord Jesus Christ" and thus to
triumph over one's self. Rom. 13:14.
"In all things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us."
Rom. 8:37.
THE FIRST LOVE.
You may wonder why we write so much about love. It is for the very best
reason in the world. Nothing is so great as love, and no way so
excellent. It is difficult to bind people together where love is
lacking. A religious people may resolve to live in peace and confidence
with one another; but this they will find to be very difficult if there
is a deficiency of love. Love solves the problem; it removes every
difficulty, and is the perfect bond of union. Nothing can separate
hearts that are full of love. Love must be suppressed before division
can be admitted. The most earnest exhortations and entreaties and the
strongest reprovings fail to get men to attend to every Christian duty
where love is wanting; but it is not difficult to persuade men to obey
God and do all they can to glorify him when they love him with all their
hearts.
There was much in the life of the angel of the church at Ephesus that
was praiseworthy; but something was lacking. He had left his first love.
But, what is the first love? There is no difference between first love
and last love if it be love. Pure, genuine love is the same
always--first, last, and all the time. The overseers of this church,
and doubtless the church in general, had lost the ardor of the love
which they had at the first. Oh, the warmth, the sweetness, of first
love! Do you not remember it, dear reader? When you were so clearly and
wonderfully born of the Spirit of God, how ardent was the love in your
heart! It thrilled you with delight. There was a delicious, sweet taste
all through your soul. How gladly you would have taken wings and have
flown away to the arms of Him whom your heart loved. The word of God was
to your soul like honeyed dew upon your lips. How delightful it was to
labor for Jesus! How preciously sweet to make the greatest sacrifices
for his sake! and to go away into some secret place and pray was dearer
to you than can ever be told. You found the greatest pleasure in
attending to every Christian duty. I should be glad if I could describe
to you just what that first love was in your heart. I can not do this,
neither can you; but you know how it felt, and how joyful was your soul.
Oh, blessed happy day, when your sins were washed away, and love sang
its sweetest lay within your soul!
Now, if you do not have the same ardor; the same warmth; the same sweet
relish for prayer, for the word of God, for a meeting; the same
thrilling sense of sweetness in your soul; that same precious drawing
toward God and toward the brethren; that same delight in laboring for
Jesus; that same joy and happiness in making sacrifices for him and for
your fellow man: if you do not feel those symptoms of love as deeply and
as delightfully, and if they are not in you as actively as they were at
the first,--you are like the church at Ephesus--you have left your first
love. In Wilson's excellent translation this text reads, "Thou hast
relaxed thy first love." They had lost the intensity of their first
love. It had relaxed, or lost tension, and had become languid. It does
not matter to what you testify, or who you are, if you have not the same
ardor and deep intensity of love that you had at the first, you have
relaxed love.
Do not deceive yourself. Do not make any excuses. There is no necessity
of losing this fervency of love. The leaping, thrilling, bounding love
can be kept in the full blaze of its intensity in your soul as long as
you live. I can never encourage a cessation of love. No matter what the
circumstances, we can increase and abound more and more in love. You
may have works, you may have labor, you may have patience; so did the
church at Ephesus; but they had relaxed their first love.
See to it, O beloved, that you do not lose the deep fervency of love.
Keep it burning in all its brightness and warmth; and the works and
labor and patience are sure to follow. But do not let your works, and
labor, and patience deceive you. See that there is an underlying
principle of love in all you do. If your works and labor and patience be
devoid of love, there will be a secret desire in your heart to attract
attention, and a longing for a bit of praise. But if all is done in
purest sincere godly love, the joy you will find in doing is a full and
sufficient reward. And, may the Lord give you understanding.
THE LITTLE FOXES.
One little fox is, "_Some other time_." If you track him up, you come to
his hole--_never._
Another little fox is, "_I can't."_ Just set on him a plucky little "_I
can_," and he will kill him for you.
Another bad little fox is, "_Just a little_" pride, self-will, worldly
conformity, etc. That little mischief will strip the whole vine if left
go.
Another malignant little fox is "_I haven't faith."_ He slips into the
vineyard through a knot-hole called _self_. You can shut him out by
removing the self-plank and filling up with Jesus only.
Another bad little fox is, "_I haven't power."_ Be sure and catch him.
If you will take the pains to dig him up, you will find his nest some
where beyond the end of your present consecration. It will pay you to
take him, if you have to "dig deep" and work hard.
Another devouring little fox is, "_My church_." "Salt" and "fire" is the
sure and only antidote for such nasty vermin.
We will point out one more little fox, and he is able to devour all the
fruit of the vineyard and kill the very vines. His species is "_Fear_."
One good dose of "perfect love" will kill him stone-dead. And a constant
application of the blood of Christ will prevent this, with all other
little or big foxes, yea, and all other animals, ever coming to life
again.
SPIRITUAL DECLENSION.
A want of interest in the duties of secret devotion is a mark of
religious declension. It is well said that prayer is the Christian's
vital breath. A devout spirit is truly the life and soul of godliness.
The soul can not but delight in communion with what it loves with warm
affection. The disciple, when his graces are in exercise, does not enter
into his closet and shut the door, that he may pray to his Father who is
in secret, merely because it is a duty which must be done, but because
it is a service which he delights to render, a pleasure which he is
unwilling to forego. He goes to the mercy-seat as the thirsty hart goes
to the refreshing brook. The springs of his strength are there. There he
has blessed glimpses of his Savior's face, and unnumbered proofs of his
affection.
But sometimes the professing Christian comes to regard the place of
secret intercourse with God with very different feelings. He loses,
perhaps by a process so gradual that he is scarcely conscious of it for
a time, the tenderness of heart, and the elevation and fervor of devout
affection that he had been used to feel in meeting God. There is less
and less of spirit and more and more of form in his religious exercises.
He retires at the accustomed time rather from force of habit than
because inclination draws him. He is enclined to curtail his seasons of
retirement or to neglect it altogether if a plausible pretext can be
found. He reproaches himself, perhaps, but hopes that the evil will cure
itself at length. And so he goes on from day to day, and week to week.
Prayer--if his heartless service deserves the name--affords him no
pleasure and adds nothing to his strength. Where such a state of things
exists it is evident that the pulses of spiritual life are ebbing fast.
If the case is yours, dear reader, it ought to fill you with alarm.
Satan is gaining an advantage of you and seducing you from God.
A second sign of spiritual declension is indifference to the usual means
of grace. The spiritual life, not less than the natural life, requires
appropriate and continual nourishment. For this want God has made ample
provision in his Word. To the faithful-disciple the Scriptures are rich
in interest and profit. "O how love I thy law! it is my meditation all
the day." To such a soul the preaching of the gospel is a joyful sound;
and the place where kindred spirits mingle in social praise and worship
is far more attractive than the scenes of worldly pleasure. But, alas!
from time to time it happens that some who bear the Christian name and
who have rejoiced in Christian hopes, insensibly lose their relish for
the Scriptures. If they continue to read them daily, it is no longer
with such appreciation of their power and beauty as makes them the bread
of life, refreshing and invigorating the soul. Their minds are occupied
no small portion of the time with thoughts of earthly things. They find
it easy to excuse themselves from frequenting the place of social
prayer, and even content themselves, perhaps, with an occasional
half-day attendance on the more public service of the sanctuary. And
when they are in the place of worship they feel listless, destitute of
spiritual affection, disposed to notice others or to attend to only mere
words and forms. They want, in a great measure, that preparation of the
heart, without which the means of grace are powerless and lacking in
pleasure or profit to the soul. Such indifference is conclusive proof
that the soul has departed from God; has grieved the Holy Spirit and
lost the vital power of godliness. If you, reader, are conscious of this
indifference, see in it an infallible sign of your backsliding. It
declares you have departed from the fountain of living waters and are a
wanderer from your God.
A third indication of declension in the Christian life is a devotion to
the world. "Love not the world, neither the things that are in the
world." Covetousness is idolatry. Christians are solemnly enjoined to
set their affections on things above, and to lay up treasures in heaven.
But look at yonder professed disciple. See how inordinately anxious he
is about gain. He is giving all his thoughts and time to business. He
enlarges his plans and extends his views. He suffers the hours of
worldly business to encroach upon the time which should be spent in
secret or in family worship or in the social prayer. He forgets that he
has no right to do this, and that he can not, without sin, permit the
claims of earth to crowd out the claims of God and his own immortal
nature. Look, too, at his compliance with the tastes and maxims of
worldly people. He appears to feel it is not best to be strict in his
adhesion to his principles. He doubts if there is any harm in this or
that or the other worldly indulgence. He does not see the need of being
so strenuous about little things. He is anxious to please everybody and
can not bear to thwart the wishes of the worldly-minded. If the world
dislikes any of the doctrines or the duties of religion he would have
little said about them. In a word, he is all things to all men, in a
very different sense from what Paul meant. In his sentiments, his
associations, his pleasures, his mode of doing business, his
conversation, his whole character, there is far too little that evinces
strength of holy principle and godliness. O reader, has your case been
described? You are then a backslider from the God whom you covenanted to
serve.
A fourth sign of a state of declension in spirituality is an
unwillingness to receive Christian counsel or reproof. The Spirit of
Christ is a tender, gentle, docile Spirit. When the heart of the
disciple is full of holy affection he feels that he is frail and
insufficient. He seeks wisdom and strength from above and is thankful
for the kind suggestions of those whose experience and opportunities
have been greater than his own. If he errs and is admonished by some
faithful Christian brother, he receives it meekly and with a thankful
spirit. "Let the righteous smite me; it shall be a kindness," is the
language of his heart. Even though reproof in itself be painful, he
would not that it should be omitted when he has been in fault, for he
dreads nothing so much as doing wrong--as sinning against God and his
own soul.
But the spirit that departs from God and duty is a self-willed spirit.
It is impatient of restraint. It is irritable and captious instead of
meek and willing to be taught. It can not brook any crossing of its
views, but esteems advice impertinent and meets admonition with
resentment. When he exhibits such a temper of mind; when he disregards
the opinions and feelings of fellow Christians; when he affects
independence and prides himself on doing as he pleases; when he keeps
out of the reach of Christian counsel, and justifies himself when
affectionately reproved; when he comes to regard the watchfulness of
others over him as an unwelcome and irksome thing; [when he charges you
with having a spirit of faultfinding, of having no charity, but that you
only discourage and press him down when you try to show him his lack of
spiritual life],--it is clear that he exhibits no more the fruits of the
Holy Spirit's influence on his soul. His piety has declined; he no
longer lives in intimacy with God and in the atmosphere of heaven. His
light is dim. His glory has departed.
The last indication of religious declension that we shall now speak of
is a careless indifference to the danger arising from temptation. A
Christian whose piety is warm and vigorous has great tenderness of
conscience. He dreads the least approach of evil. Even the suggestions
of sin to the mind are painful. He therefore prays earnestly and daily,
"Lead me not into temptation," and carefully avoids placing himself in
dangerous circumstances. Sometimes, however, you will see professing
Christians who seem to want this instinctive sense of danger. They often
place themselves in circumstances when they might easily have foreseen
their strength of principle would be liable to be put to the severest
test. They keep company in which it is nearly impossible that their
moral feelings should not be defiled. They allow themselves to assort
with the idle, the frivolous, with those who are given to foolish
talking and jesting; they indulge idle thoughts, repeat amusing stories,
read hooks and papers that do not gender to piety, etc. But he who is
willing to go as far toward evil as he can with safety, has lost one of
the greatest safe-guards of virtue. He who is ready to tamper with
temptation is on dangerous ground and in a sad state of declension. O
reader, turn ye about, shake loose from the world, draw nigh to God, let
the deep breathings waft your soul upward and upward to greater heights
in God's joy and love, and this world will only be a dim specter in the
distance.
DILIGENCE.
"O for a closer walk with God!" This is the inward pleading of many a
precious blood-washed soul. I beg leave to tell you that that fulness of
God, that deep and perfect satisfaction of soul, that sweet feeling of
deep reverence, that hushed and sacred feeling of awe, that close walk
with God, is _obtained_ and _retained_ only by the _utmost_ diligence.
Slothfulness in the Christian life is a sure source of degeneration.
Too frequently when saints reach "fair Canaan's happy land" they think
they have nothing now to do but to sing and shout and praise God and go
to heaven "on flowery beds of ease." To every newly arrived Christian in
Canaan is given the command, "Go forward and possess the land." To do
this battles must be fought, giant foes must be defeated, and the
greatest diligence must be practised. God promised ancient Israel to
drive out all the nations of Canaan from before them, and that every
place whereon the soles of their feet should tread should be theirs, if
they would diligently keep all the commandments that the Lord commanded
them, to love the Lord, to walk in his ways, and to cleave unto him. See
Deut. 11:22-24.
If we will diligently obey God and go forward at his command he will
lead us where the milk and honey flow, and where the pastures are green.
Our walk with him will be sweet and our souls perfectly satisfied. Since
the term _diligence_ is so frequently used in Scripture and such
emphasis placed upon it, it is well worth our time to learn its meaning.
We often, among the saints, hear testimonies like these: "I am living
up to all the Word of God"; or, "All the Bible requires of me, I am
doing"; "I love God and find delight in doing all his will," etc. Such
expressions are very full of meaning and may sometimes mean more than
the witness comprehends. Let me ask you, Are you as diligent in every
respect as the Bible commands you to be?
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