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1 Kings Chapter
Nineteen
1 Kings 19
Chapter Contents
Elijah flees to the wilderness. (1-8) God manifests
himself to Elijah. (9-13) God's answer to Elijah. (14-18) The call of Elisha.
(19-21)
Commentary on 1 Kings 19:1-8
(Read 1 Kings 19:1-8)
Jezebel sent Elijah a threatening message. Carnal hearts are
hardened and enraged against God, by that which should convince and conquer
them. Great faith is not always alike strong. He might be serviceable to Israel
at this time, and had all reason to depend upon God's protection, while doing
God's work; yet he flees. His was not the deliberate desire of grace, as
Paul's, to depart and be with Christ. God thus left Elijah to himself, to show
that when he was bold and strong, it was in the Lord, and the power of his
might; but of himself he was no better than his fathers. God knows what he
designs us for, though we do not, what services, what trials, and he will take
care that we are furnished with grace sufficient.
Commentary on 1 Kings 19:9-13
(Read 1 Kings 19:9-13)
The question God put, What doest thou here, Elijah? is a
reproof. It concerns us often to ask whether we are in our place, and in the
way of our duty. Am I where I should be? whither God calls me, where my
business lies, and where I may be useful? He complained of the people, and
their obstinacy in sin; I only am left. Despair of success hinders many a good
enterprise. Did Elijah come hither to meet with God? he shall find that God
will meet him. The wind, and earthquake, and fire, did not make him cover his
face, but the still voice did. Gracious souls are more affected by the tender
mercies of the Lord, than by his terrors. The mild voice of Him who speaks from
the cross, or the mercy-seat, is accompanied with peculiar power in taking
possession of the heart.
Commentary on 1 Kings 19:14-18
(Read 1 Kings 19:14-18)
God repeated the question, What doest thou here? Then he
complained of his discouragement; and whither should God's prophets go with
their complaints of that kind, but to their Master? The Lord gave him an
answer. He declares that the wicked house of Ahab shall be rooted out, that the
people of Israel shall be punished for their sins; and he shows that Elijah was
not left alone as he had supposed, and also that a helper should at once be
raised up for him. Thus all his complaints are answered and provided for. God's
faithful ones are often his hidden ones, Psalm 83:3, and the visible church is scarcely
to be seen: the wheat is lost in chaff, and the gold in dross, till the
sifting, refining, separating day comes. The Lord knows them that are his,
though we do not; he sees in secret. When we come to heaven we shall miss many
whom we thought to have met there; we shall meet many whom we little thought to
have met there. God's love often proves larger than man's charity, and far more
extended.
Commentary on 1 Kings 19:19-21
(Read 1 Kings 19:19-21)
Elijah found Elisha by Divine direction, not in the
schools of the prophets, but in the field; not reading, or praying, or
sacrificing, but ploughing. Idleness is no man's honour, nor is husbandry any
man's disgrace. An honest calling in the world, does not put us out of the way
of our heavenly calling, any more than it did Elisha. His heart was touched by
the Holy Spirit, and he was ready to leave all to attend Elijah. It is in a day
of power that Christ's subjects are made willing; nor would any come to Christ
unless they were thus drawn. It was a discouraging time for prophets to set out
in. A man that had consulted with flesh and blood, would not be fond of Elijah's
mantle; yet Elisha cheerfully leaves all to accompany him. When the Saviour
said to one and to another, Follow me, the dearest friends and most profitable
occupations were cheerfully left, and the most arduous duties done from love to
his name. May we, in like manner, feel the energy of his grace working in us
mightily, and by unreserved submission at once, may we make our calling and
election sure.
── Matthew Henry《Concise Commentary on 1 Kings》
1 Kings 19
Verse 1
[1] And
Ahab told Jezebel all that Elijah had done, and withal how he had slain all the
prophets with the sword.
All the prophets — Of
Baal.
Verse 2
[2] Then Jezebel sent a messenger unto Elijah, saying, So let the gods do to
me, and more also, if I make not thy life as the life of one of them by to
morrow about this time.
Jezebel sent —
She gives him notice of it before hand: partly, out of the height of her
spirit, as scorning to kill him secretly: partly, out of her impatience, till
she had breathed out her rage: and principally, from God's all-disposing
providence, that so he might have an opportunity of escaping.
Do to me, … — So
far was she from being changed by that evident miracle, that she persists in
her former idolatry, and adds to it a monstrous confidence, that in spight of
God she would destroy his prophet.
Verse 3
[3] And
when he saw that, he arose, and went for his life, and came to Beersheba, which
belongeth to Judah, and left his servant there.
Left his servant —
Because he would not expose him to those perils and hardships which he
expected: and because he desired solitude, that he might more freely converse
with God.
Verse 4
[4] But
he himself went a day's journey into the wilderness, and came and sat down
under a juniper tree: and he requested for himself that he might die; and said,
It is enough; now, O LORD, take away my life; for I am not better than my
fathers.
Into the wilderness —
The vast wilderness of Arabia. He durst not stay in Judah, tho' good Jehosaphat
reigned there, because he was allied to Ahab, and was a man of an easy temper,
whom Ahab might circumvent, and either by force or art seize upon Elijah.
It is enough — I
have lived long enough for thy service, and am not like to do thee any more
service; neither my words nor works are like to do any good upon these unstable
and incorrigible people.
I am not better —
That I should continue in life, when other prophets who have gone before me,
have lost their lives.
Verse 7
[7] And the angel of the LORD came again the second time, and touched him, and
said, Arise and eat; because the journey is too great for thee.
Angel of the Lord, … — He needed not to complain of the unkindness of men, when it was thus
made up by the ministration of angels. Wherever God's children are, they are
still under their father's eye.
Verse 8
[8] And
he arose, and did eat and drink, and went in the strength of that meat forty
days and forty nights unto Horeb the mount of God.
And went — He
wandered hither and thither for forty days, 'till at last he came to Horeb,
which in the direct road was not above three or four days journey. Thither the
spirit of the Lord led him, probably beyond his own intention, that he might
have communion with God, in the same place that Moses had.
Verse 9
[9] And
he came thither unto a cave, and lodged there; and, behold, the word of the
LORD came to him, and he said unto him, What doest thou here, Elijah?
Unto a cave —
Perhaps the same wherein Moses was hid when the Lord passed before him, and
proclaimed his name.
Verse 10
[10] And
he said, I have been very jealous for the LORD God of hosts: for the children
of Israel have forsaken thy covenant, thrown down thine altars, and slain thy
prophets with the sword; and I, even I only, am left; and they seek my life, to
take it away.
I have been, … — I
have executed my office with zeal for God's honour, and with the hazard of my
own life, and am fled hither, not being able to endure to see the dishonour
done to thy name by their obstinate idolatry and wickedness.
I only — Of
all thy prophets, who boldly and publickly plead thy cause: for the rest of thy
prophets who are not slain, hide themselves, and dare not appear to do thee any
service.
They seek my life — I
despair of doing them any good: for instead of receiving my testimony, they
hunt for my life. It does by no means appear, that he was at all to blame, for
fleeing from Jezebel. If they persecute you in one city flee into another.
Besides, the angels feeding and preparing him for his journey, and the peculiar
blessing of God upon that food, indicated the divine approbation.
Verse 11
[11] And
he said, Go forth, and stand upon the mount before the LORD. And, behold, the
LORD passed by, and a great and strong wind rent the mountains, and brake in
pieces the rocks before the LORD; but the LORD was not in the wind: and after
the wind an earthquake; but the LORD was not in the earthquake:
And behold —
This is a general description of the thing, after which the manner of it is
particularly explained.
Strong wind —
Whereby he both prepares Elijah to receive this discovery of God with greatest
humility, reverence, and godly fear; and signifies his irresistible power, to
break the hardest hearts of the Israelites, and to bear down all opposition
that was or should be made against him in the discharge of his office.
The Lord was not —
The Lord did not vouchsafe his special and gracious presence to Elijah in that
wind, which possibly was to teach him not to wonder if God did not accompany
his terrible administration at mount Carmel with the presence of his grace, to
turn the hearts of the Israelites to himself.
Verse 12
[12] And
after the earthquake a fire; but the LORD was not in the fire: and after the
fire a still small voice.
A still voice — To
intimate, that God would do his work in and for Israel in his own time, not by
might or power, but by his own spirit, Zechariah 4:6, which moves with a powerful, but
yet with a sweet and gentle gale.
Verse 13
[13] And
it was so, when Elijah heard it, that he wrapped his face in his mantle, and
went out, and stood in the entering in of the cave. And, behold, there came a
voice unto him, and said, What doest thou here, Elijah?
He wrapped, … —
Through dread of God's presence, being sensibly that he was neither worthy nor
able to endure the sight of God with open face.
And stood, … —
Which God commanded him to do; and as he was going towards the mouth of the
cave, he was affrighted and stopped in his course, by the dreadful wind, and
earthquake, and fire; when these were past, he prosecutes his journey, and
goeth on to the mouth of the cave.
Verse 16
[16] And
Jehu the son of Nimshi shalt thou anoint to be king over Israel: and Elisha the
son of Shaphat of Abelmeholah shalt thou anoint to be prophet in thy room.
The son, … —
That is, his grand-son, for he was the son of Jehosaphat, 2 Kings 9:2. This was intended as a prediction
that by these God would punish the degenerate Israelites, plead his own cause
among them, and avenge the quarrel of his covenant.
Verse 17
[17] And
it shall come to pass, that him that escapeth the sword of Hazael shall Jehu
slay: and him that escapeth from the sword of Jehu shall Elisha slay.
Shall Elisha slay —
One or other of these should infallibly execute God's judgments upon the
apostate Israelites. Elisha is said to slay them, either, because he slew those
forty two children, 2 Kings 2:24, besides others whom upon like
occasions he might destroy; or, because he by God's appointment inflicted the
famine, 2 Kings 8:1, or rather, by the sword which came
out of his mouth: the prophets being said to pull down and to destroy what they
declare and foretel shall be pulled down. Hazael began to slay them before Jehu
was king, though his cruelty was much increased afterward. Jehu destroyed those
whom Hazael did not, as king Joram himself, and Ahaziah, and all the near
relations of Ahab.
Verse 18
[18] Yet
I have left me seven thousand in Israel, all the knees which have not bowed
unto Baal, and every mouth which hath not kissed him.
I have left —
Or, I have reserved to myself; I have kept from the common contagion: therefore
thou art mistaken to think that thou art left alone.
Seven thousand —
Either, definitely so many: or rather, indefinitely, for many thousands; the
number of seven being often used for a great number.
Kissed him —
That is, all those who have not worshipped Baal, nor professed reverence or
subjection to him: which idolaters did to their idols, by bowing the knee, and
by kissing them.
Verse 19
[19] So
he departed thence, and found Elisha the son of Shaphat, who was plowing with
twelve yoke of oxen before him, and he with the twelfth: and Elijah passed by
him, and cast his mantle upon him.
Was plowing —
Who had twelve ploughs going, whereof eleven were managed by his servants, and
the last by himself; according to the simplicity of those ancient times, in
which men of good estate submitted to the meanest employments.
Cast his mantle — By
that ceremony conferring upon him the office of a prophet, which God was
pleased to accompany with the gifts and graces of his spirit.
Verse 20
[20] And
he left the oxen, and ran after Elijah, and said, Let me, I pray thee, kiss my
father and my mother, and then I will follow thee. And he said unto him, Go
back again: for what have I done to thee?
He ran —
Being powerfully moved by God's spirit to follow Elijah, and wholly give up
himself to his function.
Let me kiss —
That is, bid them farewell.
Go — And take thy leave of
them, and then return to me again.
For what, … —
Either first, to hinder thee from performing that office. That employment to
which I have called thee, doth not require an alienation of thy heart from thy
parents, nor the total neglect of them. Or, secondly, to make such a change in
thee, that thou shouldst be willing to forsake thy parents, and lands, and all,
that thou mayest follow me. Whence comes this marvellous change? It is not from
me, who did only throw my mantle over thee; but from an higher power, even from
God's spirit, which both changed thy heart, and consecrated thee to thy
prophetical office: which therefore it concerns thee vigorously to execute, and
wholly to devote thyself to it.
Verse 21
[21] And
he returned back from him, and took a yoke of oxen, and slew them, and boiled
their flesh with the instruments of the oxen, and gave unto the people, and
they did eat. Then he arose, and went after Elijah, and ministered unto him.
From him —
From Elijah to his parents; whom when he had seen and kissed, he returned to
Elijah.
The instruments —
That is, with the wood belonging to the plow, etc. to which more was added, as
occasion required. But that he burned, to shew his total relinquishing of his
former employment.
And gave —
That is, he made thereof a feast for his servants who had been ploughing with
him, and for him, and his other friends and neighbours who came to take their
leave of him. Hereby he shewed how willingly and joyfully he forsook all his
friends, that he might serve God in that high and honourable employment. It is
of great advantage to young ministers, to spend some time under the direction
of those that are aged and experienced; and not to think much, if occasion be,
to minister unto them. Those who would be fit to teach, must have time to
learn; those should first serve, who may hereafter rule.
── John Wesley《Explanatory Notes on 1 Kings》
19 Chapter 19
Verses 1-4
Verses 3-18
He arose and went for his life.
The flight into the wilderness
This is a sad sequel to the triumph on Mount Carmel. Elijah had
forgotten Jezebel. Not present herself on Mount Carmel, she had received with
sceptical scorn the reports which had reached her. The fire from heaven she
looked upon as a mere conjurer’s trick. The rain following the prophet’s prayer
was a mere coincidence, and, like all others who speak so glibly of
coincidences, she never asked what power had made the two events coincide. So
she felt utter contempt for the cowards who had stood by while her prophets
were butchered by a madman. In a passionate fury she declared that she was no
turncoat to forsake the gods
of her fathers at the bidding of a wild Bedouin. If no one else had the courage
to withstand Elijah, she would do it herself. So the letter was sent which made
the prophet flee. Are we not all in danger of repeating Elijah’s mistake, and
forgetting our chief adversary? We reckon with the opposing forces that we can
see, but we forget the unseen array of principalities and powers whose
hostility is implacable, who with deadly craft and subtlety wait for our
unguarded hours. Elijah, too, had taken his eyes off God. “When he saw that, he
arose, and went for his life.” It is impossible for us to justify his flight.
He acted in a panic. There was no waiting for Divine guidance. Oh, the sad pity
of it! A moment’s reflection would have changed the whole aspect of affairs.
“Fear not, only believe.” Jezebel may rage, but Jehovah lives. One such word--a
child might have spoken it--and the prophet’s faith would have leaped up, his old courage would have
returned; and instead of fleeing from Jezreel, he might have driven Jezebel out
of the kingdom. But why were his eyes off God? I think because, though to a
certain extent unconsciously, his eyes were upon himself. “It is enough; now, O
Lord, take away my life; for I am not better than my fathers.” Had he thought
that he was? Had tie been uplifted at the success God had given him? Had he
thought that the shouts of the people would end the conflict? We must not judge
him unkindly. God’s first care was to give him rest and sleep. Overwrought
nerves, a tired brain, and physical exhaustion, had much to do with the
prophet’s fall. The meeting with Ahab; the preparation for the contest; the
strain of the conflict itself, with its tremendous output of faith and prayer;
the excitement of the grim work of judgment; the fatigue of the long, quick run
to Jezreel--had left the prophet in a state of physical tension, which nothing
but calm, trustful confidence in God could have endured. Much of the low
spirits and unbelief among Christians to-day is the result of rush and
overstrain. And after this Elijah was not left without a congenial friend and
companion. Elisha was called from the plough to follow him and to minister unto
him; for it is not good for man to be alone. Solitude, while a real means of
grace, may easily become a means of sore temptation. Just as Queen Eleanor was
said to suck the poison from her husband’s wounds (thus saving his life), so
the sympathy and love of wife or sister or brothers in arms are most effective
in removing the sting and virus from life’s sorrows and temptations. If Elijah
had had Elisha at his right hand, he would not surely have forgotten God. Let
us value our Christian fellowship. (F. S. Webster, M. A.)
The flight to the wilderness
1. We may well learn, from this sad crisis in Elijah’s history, the
lesson of our own weakness, and our dependence on God’s grace. In the Divine
life, often the most dangerous and perilous time for the believer, is after a
season of great enlargement; when he is saying to himself, “My mountain
standeth strong.” The spiritual armour is loosely worn;--he gets supine after
the flush of victory: the bold, bounding river, that we have just witnessed
taking leap after leap in successive cataracts, loses itself in the low, marshy
swamps of self-confidence.
2. Beware of taking any step without the Divine sanction. Let us be
careful not to follow our own paths; not to take any solemn and important step
unless it be divinely owned and recognised. “In all thy ways acknowledge Him,
and He shall direct thy paths.” “Blessed is the man whose strength is in Thee,
in whose heart are Thy ways.”
3. Beware of murmuring under trial. Each of us has, or may yet have,
his day of trial--sickness, bereavement, crushed hopes, bitter disappointments,
crossed wishes--stings and arrows from quarters least expected. How are we to
meet them? Are we to give way to peevish, fretful repining? Are we to say, “I
am wearied of life. I would I were done with all this wretchedness. What
pleasure is existence to this wounded, harassed, smitten spirit?” Nay, take
courage. It is not “enough.” The Lord has work for you still to do. It is not
for you, but for Him, to say, at His own appointed time, as He said to
Hezekiah, “Thou shalt die, and not live.” If we have ever been guilty of
uttering such a rash prayer as that of Elijah--“Take away my life” let us be
thankful God has not given us the fulfilment of our own wish--the ratification
of our own desire--and allowed us to die, unmeet and unprepared! (J. R.
Macduff, D. D.)
Loneliness in religious depression
I. Religious
depression following great public excitement.
1. It is a natural reaction. As a matter of mental and moral law,
such depression must follow such excitement.
2. It is a needful discipline. Continual conquests on Carmel would
not be good for the prophet’s own soul. He must have sometimes more of
introspection and self-communing and less of challenge of foes, or of the
applause of friends.
II. Religious
depression producing the feeling of utter loneliness. Under the juniper-tree he
longs to sob out his life and afterwards thrice over utters the pathetic
“alone, alone, alone.”
III. Religious
depression causing mistaken views of life. He, in his present passing loneliness,
had two wrong notions clouding his vision. He thought, first of all, that his
life-work had been a failure, whereas he had stirred the religious life of the
people to its very centre, and his name ever lives as a symbol of heroic
single-handed conflict with evil.
2. And he supposed the generation of godly seers was extinct. This
mood of mind often leads men to see failure written on their labours, and to
feel the number of the Christly a narrow instead of an ever-widening circle of
men and women and children.
IV. Religious
depression divinely removed by fitting means. Here Elijah was lifted from his
depression through the instrumentality--
1. Of nature.
2. Of new occupation. There was fresh work to be done.
3. Fresh companionship. An Elisha was waiting for him.
4. Unveiling of forgotten facts. In the existence of the 7000
faithful men there was a fact of hope and encouragement he had forgotten. So
every exiled spirit needs, and, if true to God, has, an Apocalypse. (U. R.
Thomas.)
How the mighty fell
I. His physical
strength and nervous energy were completely overtaxed. We are “fearfully and
wonderfully made”; and our inner life is very sensitive to our outward
conditions. It has been truly said, that the most trivial causes--a heated
room, a sunless day, want of exercise; or a northern aspect--will make all the
difference between happiness and unhappiness; between faith and doubt; between
courage and indecision. Many who send for the religious teacher would be wiser
if they sent for their physician.
II. He was keenly
sensitive to his lonely position. “I only am left.” Some men are born to
loneliness. It is the penalty of true greatness. At such a time the human
spirit is apt to falter, unless it is sustained by an heroic purpose, and by an
unfaltering faith. The shadow of that loneliness fell dark on the spirit of our
Divine Master Himself when He said: “Behold, the hour cometh, yea, is now come,
that ye shall be scattered, every man to his own, and shall leave Me alone; and
yet I am not alone, because the Father is with Me.” If our Lord shrank in the
penumbra of that great eclipse, it is not wonderful that Elijah cowered in its
darksome gloom.
III. He looked away
from God to circumstances. Up to that moment Elijah had been animated by a most
splendid faith, because he had never lost sight of God. “He endured as seeing
Him who is invisible.” Faith always thrives when God occupies the whole field
of vision. Let us refuse to look at circumstances, though they roll before us
as a Red Sea, and howl around us like a storm. Circumstances, natural
impossibilities, difficulties, are nothing in the estimation of the soul that
is occupied with God. They are as the small dust that settles on a scale, and
is not considered in the measurement of weight. O men of God, get you up into
the high mountain, from which you may obtain a good view of the glorious Land
of Promise; and refuse to have your gaze diverted by men or things below! (F.
B. Meyer, M. A.)
Elijah in the wilderness
I. Elijah’s
weakness.
1. He was a man of like passions with us. He failed in the point
wherein he was strongest, as Abraham, Moses, Job, Peter, and others have done.
2. He suffered from a terrible reaction. Those who go up go down.
3. He suffered grievous disappointment, for Ahab was still under
Jezebel’s sway, and she was seeking his life.
4. His wish was folly: “O Lord, take away my life.” He fled from
death, and yet prayed for death! He was never to die. How unwise are our
prayers when our spirits sink.
5. His reason for the wish was untrue.
II. God’s
tenderness to him.
1. He allowed him to sleep. This was better than medicine, or inward
rebuke, or spiritual instruction.
2. He fed him with food convenient and miraculously nourishing.
3. He made him “perceive” angelic care: “An angel touched him.”
4. He allowed him to tell his grief (verse 10). This is often the
readiest relief. He stated his case, and in doing so eased his mind.
5. He revealed Himself and His ways. The wind, earthquake, fire, and
still small voice were voices from God.
6. He told him good news: “Yet I have left me seven thousand in
Israel.” His sense of loneliness was thus removed.
7. He gave him more to do--to anoint others, by whom the Lord’s
purposes of chastisement and instruction should be carried on.
Let us learn some useful lessons.
1. It is seldom right to pray to die. We may not destroy our own
lives, nor ask the Lord to do so.
2. For the sinner t is never right to seek to die; for death to him
is hell!
3. For the saint it is allowable only within bounds.
4. When we do wish to die, the reason must not be impatient,
petulant, proud, insolent.
5. We have no idea of what is in store for us in this life. We may
yet see the cause prosper and ourselves successful.
6. In any case, let us trust in the Lord and do good, and we need not
be afraid. (C. H. Spurgeon.)
The despondent prophet
I. The prophet’s
despondency.
1. Its intensity. For the time his depression seems almost
overwhelming. Why this: that we must not expect that the sincerest piety, or
the highest service for God, will preclude the possibility of our being bowed
down beneath the burden of depression and discouragement. It may consist with
genuine religiousness to be so circumstanced. Those children of God, in old
time, whose faith rose to the loftiest altitudes, and whose courage paled not
before the extremest perils, knew well the painfulness of such experience. It
is well for us to bear in mind that the ground of spiritual security is
distinct and separate from any state of mere feeling. Frames are uncertain,
fluctuating, affected by innumerable causes over which our control is but
limited, and must not, therefore, be made to determine character, standing,
safety before God. The heart may sink when the soul’s grasp is the strongest.
2. The causes of the prophet’s despondency. People forget the
closeness of the connection that subsists between their material and their
spiritual part, and often connect with an imagined wrong condition of the
latter, what more properly belongs to a morbid or deranged state of the former.
They send for the minister, when they ought to send for the physician. They
charge upon the mind a fault that really attaches to the body. Not even
religion can cure some persons of melancholy; they are gloomy or pensive by
natural temperament, and must await the resurrection-morn to be made otherwise,
3. Its effects upon his conduct. It had led him from the scene of
actual service, bold and faithful testimony, earnest confronting of Jehovah’s
foes, to hide himself in wilderness solitudes.
II. God’s method of
relief.
1. God recruits his exhausted strength by a timely supply of
sustenance.
2. But observe, again, in God’s method of relief, that He rouses His
servant to exertion. Having afforded Him needful refreshment and repose, He
gives him work to do; He bids him journey to the distant Mount of Horeb.
3. God’s method of relief includes a manifestation of Himself in
glory and grace. The journey to Horeb was not its own end. Elijah was brought
thither that he might commune with Deity.
4. In God’s method of relief there was a correction of the prophet’s
misjudgment, as to
the effects of his own labours, and the cause of truth. He had thought that he
had “laboured in vain, and spent his strength for nought, and in vain.” (C.
M. Merry)
Elijah’s depression
The best of men have their defects, but do not despise them on
that account; just as we don’t despise a mountain because there are rifts in
its side, or the sun because there are spots on its face.
I. Some of the
causes of Elijah’s depression.
1. Physical weakness.
2. Rampant wickedness.
3. Want of occupation.
4. The apparent failure of his mission.
II. What lessons
should this subject teach us?
1. That great men are subject to sudden changes in their mental
moods.
2. That these seasons of depression do not unchristianise a man. John
Bunyan tells us that the pilgrims were as surely progressing towards the
Celestial City, when climbing the hill Difficulty, passing through the valley
of Humiliation, and engaged in a hand-to-hand encounter with Apollyon, as when
transported with the visions of the Delectable Mountains, fanned with the balmy
breezes, and regaled with the fragrant odours of the land of Beulah, where the
sun always shines. “If needs be,” says Peter, “ye are in heaviness through
manifold temptations.
3. That God comes to the succour of His servants in seasons of
depression.
4. Severe trials are fruitful of good to God’s people.
5. That labour is an essential condition of enjoyment. (H.
Woodcock.)
Avoiding the shadows
I looked from my window this morning across the fields. I
noticed a dwelling-house whose roof was exposed to the early and cheerful sun.
There had been a storm in the night, and snow covered the roof. In an hour the
warmth of the sun had melted it, save where the shadow of the chimney fell.
That long, dark shade kept firm grasp of the iciness. It gave me a morning
lesson, like a text from Scripture. The ice of our lives lingers only where the
shadow is. If we have no Christly warmth, it is because we live in the dark. If
our love is chilled and our nature sluggish, there is something between us and
the light. What then? We must go forth from shadows. The sun shines and its
beams are full of life. If we walk in this life the ice will melt, and instead
of deathly conditions, we shall become rivers of living water. Christ is the
Sun. Shadows do not belong to us. They savour of death. The one aim of God is
to make us children of life and light; then follows holy fellowship and
hallowed communion. (A. Caldwell.)
Discouragement
I remember a good many years ago I got very much depressed
because the Lord, I thought, hadn’t blessed my ministry. I was cast down, and
used to talk discouragingly of what was being done. There was not any life in
my ministry, and this went on for three months. One Monday, when I was in the
valley, and very much cast down, I met a friend who was on the hilltop and
exceedingly elated. He said he had had a grand Sunday; what had I? “Oh!” I
said, “I had not a good one.” “Much power?” “No. What did you preach about?”
“Oh, I preached about Noah.” I said, “How did you get on?” “Oh, grandly. Did
you ever study up Noah?” I said I thought I knew all about Noah, for there are
only a few verses about him. “Oh, if you haven’t studied up Noah you ought to
do it. He’s a wonderful character.” After he left I got out my Bible, and read
all I could find about Noah, and while I was reading this thought came to me:
Here is this man who was a preacher of righteousness for one hundred and twenty
years, and yet never had a convert outside his own family. I went to the
prayer-meeting after that; and there was a man, who had just come from a town
in Illinois, who spoke of one hundred
young converts. “Why,” I said, “what would Noah have said if he had one hundred
converts, and yet Noah didn’t get discouraged!” Then a man right close to me
got up, and he was trembling. “My friend,” he said, “I wish you would pray for
me.” I said to myself: “What would Noah have given if he had heard that during
those one hundred and twenty years, and yet he never heard the voice of an inquirer--not
one. Still, he didn’t get discouraged.” (D. L. Moody.)
Verses 4-8
Verse 4
It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life.
Elijah’s singular request
These words every way are remarkable. They proceed from a certain
state of the mind, which is not common. The words are remarkable, considering
the person who uttered them. They were uttered by the bold and brilliant
Elijah. If we consider further the time the words were uttered, they are
equally remarkable. It was just after the extraordinary manifestation of
Carmel. One would have thought, after such a manifestation of the Divine
presence and decided triumph, that he never would have been so shorn of
courage, and cast down into such deep depression. These words, though spoken in
ancient days, and come down to us through many ages; yet they contain certain
pictures in human thought and feeling, which are found more or less everywhere.
They are true expressions of the human soul in certain conditions, and our
business here will be to mention some of the things which are common to all
ages, and more or less to all people.
I. The soul’s sigh
in the search after solitude. Sometime or other all sigh for solitude; you cannot
destroy the feeling, it is planted deeply in the human soul. There are certain
circumstances in life which develop this feeling, until it becomes strong and
all-powerful, governing the whole soul. It is possible to allow this sentiment
to grow wild and overleap its natural limit; but in itself, and within its
proper limit, it is right and necessary. Before men can be strong they must be
much with God and themselves; before they can be rich and mature, they will
have to live much in the garden of their mind to weed and manure it. The
conditions under which solitude is sought are various.
1. The soul seeks solitude in the pangs of disappointment. We are
born to disappointments--all meet them, only some are more sensitive to their
point and bitterness than others. We are often either too confiding, or lofty
in our wish, or sanguine in our expectation, that disappointments cannot but
come. They come from foes and friends--from prosperity and adversity.
2. The soul often sighs for the solitary in life, when deeply
convinced of the vanity and falsehood of society; when the soul sees and feels
the faults and follies of the world, it often feels a wish to live in some
place where they are not seen or heard.
3. The absence of congenial society not unfrequently turns the face
of the soul towards solitude. There may be times when our companions are too
numerous, as well as too few. The soul wishes to shake itself from them and be
free, and often goes beyond civilisation for this freedom it longs for so
anxiously. This is often the case from superior refinement, advanced piety,
nobler aspirations than those of neighbours and friends.
4. The soul often sighs for the solitude in life under the influence
of religious feeling. The danger is for the thing that is right in itself to
become a blind sentimentality.
5. The soul is apt, in a condition of great sorrow, to sigh after
solitude.
6. This feeling may and sometimes does proceed from a morbid state of
mind.
II. The soul’s time
of despondent depression. There is a shade sometime or other to cross every
flowery bed, and a gloom to cover every sunny path. There are occasions in the
history of most men when life, the most precious and the first to be desired,
is a burden. In this state of the soul all power of enjoyment is gone, and all
power and courage have taken their departure. The horizon of the soul is
obscured with darkness, so that there is neither beauty nor prospect in view
anywhere.
1. Sometimes this state of despondent depression comes upon the soul
from a sense of its own sinfulness.
2. The thought of our own individual insignificancy has a tendency to
the same result.
3. The conscious vanity of the surroundings of our present existence
is another depressing element in life.
4. The darkness and uncertainty surrounding human life has a tendency
to make us despondent. The simplest things are lost in mystery; the clearest
things are covered with uncertainty.
5. Failure in realising our noblest plans and most cherished wishes
is another depressing element which often presses us below the level of right
standing.
6. The ills that men are subject to is another frequent means of
human depression.
III. The soul’s
depreciation of itself. Some people constantly depreciate themselves, and they
are thought sincere and humble persons, whereas it may be nothing more than a
habit, or worse, an affected self-depreciation, that others may have occasion
and scope to raise them on high.
1. A sense of self-depreciation takes hold of the mind when it is
filled with the conception of the Divine Majesty and His presence.
2. The feeling of self-depreciation pervades the soul in the presence
or recollection of some higher examples in matters of life and ambition. An
artist of sensitive appreciation of superiority in the presence of a genuine piece
of art depreciates to the dust his own performances. A poet with a true poetic
sense, when he reads or hears some grand poetry like Paradise Lost, feels
very low in his own view. So is it in other things in life.
3. The same feeling takes hold of the mind of man often when
comparing himself with the material universe and its different creations in his
outward form and physical capacities.
4. This sentiment also proceeds frequently from a review of the past
conduct of one’s own life.
5. Self-depreciation is often the depressed language of the soul,
when persecuted and cast out of society.
6. Once more, when the ills and miseries of life are calmly and
seriously viewed, we ourselves being subjects of the same, the little we have
done, or can do to diminish them, tends to self-depreciation.
IV. The soul’s
weariness of life, and its special desire to be released from its burden. In
many cases life is a burden, but it is a rare thing, nevertheless, to wish to
get rid of the burden by being relieved of life. There are cases where it
appears almost natural and religious for men to wish to die, which appear
almost beyond the suspicion of wrong.
1. When a person thinks that his work is done in this life, and he
cannot be of much use any longer.
2. When an individual becomes helpless, and requires the time and
attention of others to attend to him, he feels he is in the way, and cannot
compensate for the least done to him.
3. When, by his close communion with the Divine and the heavenly, the
soul is more at home from the world than in it.
4. When it is submitted, as in the case of Elijah, to the hand and
will of God. (T. Hughes.)
The Order of the Juniper tree
Some while ago in passing through Edinburgh we noticed the
procession of a friendly society whose banner declared it to belong to the
Order of the Juniper tree. Many of us belong to that order, and it may prove
useful to consider the suggestive contrast established by these two texts. In
the one, the prophet sinks in despair; in the other, he is carried triumphantly
into heaven. What has this to do with us? It presents in a dramatic form the
experience of God’s people in an ages.
I. The sharp
contrast in these texts is worthy of being remembered in days of worldly
adversity. Times of misfortune and disaster not uncommonly induce the mood
expressed in the first text. Having suffered the wreck of our circumstances,
schemes, happiness, and hopes, we court the shade of the juniper tree and pour
out bitter lamentations. What is there to live for? We are failures, and the sooner
we are out of the way the better.
1. It is only through discipline that we are fit for glorification.
Cars of fire, horses of fire, a path beyond the stars, luminous diadems! we are
presumptuous enough to think that at any time we are ready for these. But we
are not ready. The perfection that qualifies for high places comes only through
some form of suffering.
2. Only God knows when we are fit for glorification. “It is enough;
now, O Lord, take away my life.” Are we sure about this enough? When you chastise
a child, you find that his opinion and yours wary considerably as to what is
enough.
II. We may remember
the strong contrast of these texts in days of spiritual despondency. Times of
deep depression come in our spiritual history. Wesley’s new life began in
glorious experiences in Aldersgate Street, yet within a year of these glowing
feelings we find that he suffered sad relapses into darkness and doubt; he even
wrote, “I am not a Christian now.” We feel worsted in the spiritual conflict,
losing confidence and hope. These sad days of humiliation and despondency need
not be lost upon us. They bring home the lesson of our personal unworthiness
and helplessness. “I am not better than my fathers.”
III. We may remember
the strong contrast of our texts in days when we are disappointed by the
results of our evangelical work. Elijah was smitten with despair about God’s
cause. The scornful, scorching words of the wicked and wrathful queen unmanned
him. All his grand hopes for his nation and race were to expire at the juniper
tree. And very often do the strongest and best of men entertain similar
misgivings. Yet Elijah was wrong. God works strangely, He works silently, He
works slowly, but He works surely. The funeral was not to be that of Elijah.
The one thing we must resolve upon is not to reason and question, but
confidently to follow out all the lines and leadings of God in spiritual life
and evangelical toil It is the fashion with some modem novelists to finish
their stories in the most atheistic and despairing manner--the mystery and
struggle of life ending in unconsoled sorrows, unrequited sacrifices,
uncompensated wrongs, unanswered prayers and strivings; the palpable moral of
such treatment being that there is no law, government, or purpose in human life.
We know otherwise. We believe in the programme of God, so wise, so true, so
good; and in our best moments we are confident that His programme cannot fail.
(W. L. Watkinson.)
Verses 5-8
Verse 5
As he lay and slept under a juniper tree, then an angel touched
him.
Loving-kindness better than life
We have, in this incident, four thoughts of the love of God.
I. God’s love in
its constancy. It is a fact which we all admit; hut which we seldom realise in
the moments of depression and darkness to which we are all exposed. It is not
difficult to believe that God loves us, when we go with the multitude to the
house of God, with the voice of joy and praise, and stand in the inner sunlit
circle; but it is hard to believe that He feels as much love for us when,
exiled by our sin to the land of Jordan and of the Hermonites, our soul is cast
down within us, and deep calls to deep, as His waves and billows surge around.
It is not difficult to believe that God loves us when, like Elijah at Cherith
and on Carmel, we do His commandments, hearkening unto the voice of His word;
but it is not so easy when, like Elijah in the desert, we lie stranded, or, as
dis-masted and rudderless vessels, roll in the trough of the waves. It is not
difficult to believe in God’s love when with Peter we stand on the mount of
glory, and, in the rapture of joy, propose to share a tabernacle with Christ
evermore; but it is well-nigh impossible when, with the same Apostle, we deny
our Master with oaths, and are abashed by a look in which grief masters
reproach. Yet we must learn to know and believe the constancy of the love of
God.
II. God’s love
manifested in special tenderness because of special sin. Where ordinary methods
will not avail, God will employ extraordinary ones. There is one memorable
instance of this, which has afforded comfort and hope to multitudes who have
sinned as Peter did, and who will bless God for ever for the record of the
Master’s dealings with His truant servant. The Lord sent a general message to
all His disciples to meet Him in Galilee. But He felt that Peter would hardly
dare to class himself with the rest; and so He sent to him a special message,
saying: “Go tell My disciples, and Peter.” It is thus that Jesus is working
still throughout the circles of His disciples.
III. God’s love in
its unwearied care. None of us can measure the powers of endurance in the love
of God. It never tires. It fainteth not, neither is weary. It does not fail, nor
is it discouraged. It bears all things; believes all things; hopes all things;
endures all things. It clings about its object with a Divine tenacity, until
the darkness and wandering are succeeded by the blessedness of former days. It
watches over us during the hours of our insensibility to its presence; touching
us ever and anon; speaking to us; and summoning us to arise to a nobler, better
life, more worthy of ourselves, more glorifying to Him.
IV. God’s love
anticipating coming need. This always stands out as one of the most wonderful
passages in the prophet’s history. We can understand God giving him, instead of
a long discourse, a good meal and sleep, as the best means of recruiting his
spent powers. This is what we should have expected of One who knows our frame
and remembers that we arc dust, and who pities us as a father pitieth his
children. But it is very wonderful that God should provision His servant for
the long journey that lay before him: “Arise and eat; because the journey is
too great for thee.” (F. B. Meyer, B. A.)
Verse 7
Arise and eat, because the journey is too great for thee.
The weary child
1. Now, what is all this but the Lord nursing His own child? Elijah
has come to one of those crises which occur in every one’s life, when he stands
in need of special tending and treatment; and the Father which is in Heaven is
giving them. He is giving
them none the less truly, that at the stage of our text it is the bodily
condition of Elijah with which the Lord is dealing, and nothing higher or
further. It was mostly this which was wrong just then, and it is this therefore
that the Lord proceeds first of all to put right. But while the text thus
speaks to us of the pity of God, and tells us how wide-winged and
close-brooding it is, the text also points us to wise methods of dealing with
ourselves in like circumstances. The Great Physician may well leave something
of our restorations to be wrought by self-treatment when He has indicated the
course which that treatment ought to take. Now, the body has its own share, and
not a small one, even in our spiritual history. Our dejection and melancholy,
our very unbelief, have frequently no higher or more mysterious source than the
disturbance of this material machine of nerves and muscles through which the
spirit deals with the outer world. For the sake of our souls themselves,
therefore, those conditions of body which tell back unhappily upon the spirit
ought, where they are preventable or removable, to be prevented or removed.
Dejection is no virtue, but a weakness and humiliation.
2. When the Lord was comforting Elijah in that lonely place one day’s
journey south of Beersheba, there was being transacted there a living parable
of things that lie within the higher sphere of purely spiritual experience.
Every Christian of us has his journey before him. Every Christian of us has his
weariness not far off within him. Every Christian of us has his Lord’s
provision brought to his bolster, with the kindly call, “Arise and eat, because
the journey is too great for thee.” The Lord knoweth right well how great it
is, and He knoweth well how great our weariness at any time is.
3. You are thinking of seasons of spiritual recruiting more special
still than any I have named. One more interval passes, and you are purposing
again to sit down together to commemorate the accomplishment, in sacrificial
blood, of the most wondrous journey that was ever travelled by human foot in
this sorely travelled world. For, to be like us, to understand us and to save
us, He would have His mortal journey too; and it was “great,” and often He was
weary, and often He was refreshed. With thoughts of that journey filling His
own heart, and wishing that they may fill your own, He is summoning you again
to sit down with Himself, and to nourish your flagging graces by more touching
fellowship with Himself, over the emblems of the love which has made you to be
His. (J. A. Kerr Bain, M. A.)
Heart-weariness in the journey of life
1. The first remark which I would make concerning this
heart-weariness in the journey of life is that it does not necessarily betoken
any estrangement from God. It is, indeed, true that life naturally becomes
“flat, stale, and unprofitable” to the sated worldling. But it is also true
that moods of depression and despondency come even to the most pious souls, and
are sometimes even associated with a sorrow born of sympathy with the mind of
God.
2. The second remark which I would make regarding this spiritual
fatigue is that it is often due, in large measure, to physical causes. And this
fact ought to teach us two lessons. The first is a lesson of sympathetic
forbearance. The young ought to make large allowance for the aged, and the
strong for the weak. And the second lesson is one of physical prudence. Seeing
that the connection between the body and the spirit is so close and subtle, it
is our duty to keep our bodies as healthy as we possibly can. The laws of
health are the laws of God.
3. We ought to welcome and avail ourselves of those messengers whom
God sends to revive and help us in the journey of life. But there are other
messengers and ministries--more homely and familiar--which may be even as
angels of God to help us when our hearts are worn and weary. Sometimes the
words of a well-known hymn, sung in the house of prayer, will cheer our
drooping spirits and put new life into our steps. There are also pleasures of
literature in general which are not to be despised; many an old man and many an
invalid could tell us that their books do much to lighten for them the burden
of their infirmities. Music, too, gives its own peculiar refreshment. Science,
and poetry, and art, and humour, and the relaxation afforded by simple,
innocent pleasures--why should we despise such things as these in their true
and proper place? Love is a great freshener of human life. So long as we are
really useful and helpful to those whom we love, life cannot altogether lose
its zest.
4. I remark that God has miraculously provided for us all a special
food for the sustenance and refreshment of our souls. Christ is “the Bread of
Life which came down from heaven.” (T. Campbell Finlayson, D. D.)
Juniper trees
In experiences of weariness and discouragement and times of
despair, when it seems to us that we are of no use in the world, and are doing
nothing in the world, or only blundering and doing harm in the world, there
come the juniper tree and the angel; God puts rest-places in our lives; God
gives us angels’ food and tells us that in the strength of that food we are to
rise up and go on our journey. I want you to look with me for a few moments
this morning at some of these restplaces, some of these juniper trees of life.
1. And first I put sleep, because God put it first. When Elijah was
tired and despairing and discouraged, God put him to sleep. Sometimes the most
religious service a man can render himself or the world is to go to sleep. But
how many busy people think really the time spent in sleep is wasted! They
begrudge all the time that is spent asleep. But the Lord God so made us that we
need to put one-third of our time in sleep. And He knew what He was about.
Thanks to God for sleep, that is itself a symbol of death; sleep, that is the
promise of a new awakening, and so gives us the suggestion of that great
awakening when we shall rise refreshed and invigorated for the eternal day! The
father takes the tired child in his arms and rocks him into unconsciousness of
all the sin and sorrow and weariness and burden of life. Do not think of it as
wasted time! Do not think of it as something lost out of life! Take it as God
means we shall--as God’s great gift.
2. Next to sleep I put amusement as one of God’s juniper trees and as
a part of God’s angelic food. You remember the three things which the Book of
Proverbs says about merriment, which is the lightest form of amusement: first,
that a merry heart is a continual feast; second, that a merry heart maketh a
glad countenance; and, thirdly, that a merry heart doeth good like a medicine. The merry heart cheers
the heart and so makes the face radiant, and, because the face is radiant,
therefore the merry soul imparts radiance to others. Merriment, amusement,
laughter, just having a good time, is one of God’s juniper trees that He plants
for us, and when we are discouraged and distressed He means that we shall take
advantage of it.
3. The home is one of God’s juniper trees. We are all conscious, I am
sure, that woman’s sphere, whatever that flexible globe may be, is getting
bigger and bigger; women are going into all sorts of industrial activities, and
giving men pretty hard work by competition; into all sorts of charitable
activities, which men are quite ready to leave to the women altogether. Now, on
the whole, this is a distinct advance--The larger life of woman is something to be
welcomed and to be rejoiced in; and yet, like every increasing growth, it has
its perils also. It does sometimes threaten to impair the usefulness of the
home. In the Divine order men are the soldiers; the battle of life ought to be
done by the men.
4. The Church ought to be a juniper tree and a resting-place. Dr.
Parkhurst has said, “The Church is not the minister’s field, but the minister’s
force.” The Church ought to be not merely a working Church, but a rest-giving
Church also; and when men and women come to the Church, they ought to be able
to find there some angels’ food, some real rest, some inspiration that will
send them back into life with new vigour for their new toils. The Sabbath
chimes ring no sweeter song than this, “Come unto Me, and rest!”
5. And then there is the quiet hour. At Wellesley College, in
Massachusetts--a young ladies’ college--there are twenty minutes reserved in
every day for a quiet hour. During that twenty minutes every young lady is
expected to be in her room; there is to be no passing through the halls; there
is to be no life of conversation, no laughter. What the young lady does in her
room is between herself, her own conscience, and her God. She may read, she may
study, she may pray, she may think, she may do what she likes; only she must
not disturb other pupils in other rooms. For twenty minutes a quiet time. We
ought to have our quiet hour; at least, we will say, our quiet quarter of an
hour. (Lyman Abbott, D. D.)
The journey is too great
for thee.--
The journey of life
In regard to the journey of life God says, “It is too great for
thee.” It is beyond thy natural powers. Thou needest supernatural strength to
enable thee to accomplish it. Men are slow to admit their weakness, especially
when they are young and inexperienced. They are full of courage, and they are
terrified neither by desert nor by mountain. It is well to begin life in this
high spirit. Every young man needs a little of the dare-devil disposition in
order to distinguish himself. Courage is a magnificent quality. But men are
always chastened by experience. Many an Alpine climber has started up a high
mountain with sublime confidence in his skill of foot and in his powers of
endurance. But when he reached a certain height his nerve failed. The journey
was too great for him. The text has been illustrated by ten thousand men.
Livingstone consecrated himself to African exploration. He performed two
journeys, but the third was too great for him. His health failed. Two of his
servants deserted him, and they took with them his medicine chest. “I never
dreamed,” he wrote, “that I should lose my precious quinine.” One of the last
entries in his journal was: “I am pale, bloodless, and weak from bleeding
profusely ever since the 31st of March last. An artery gives off a copious
stream, and takes away my strength; oh how I long to be permitted by the Over
Power to finish my work!” When he could work no longer, he was carried on a
frame of wood with some grass and a blanket upon it. And when he could endure
to be carried no further, his faithful servants built him a little hut, and in
that rude structure he died. He was a great traveller. He contributed much to
our knowledge of Central Africa. The coloured races owe him a mighty debt of gratitude. He was
one of the bravest of Christian men. But the journey of African exploration was
too great for him. Arctic exploration, again, has had an intense fascination
for navigators, sea rovers, and scientific men. Time would fail us to tell of
all the brave men, from Frobisher to Franklin, and from Franklin to Lieutenant
Greeley, who have penetrated into the regions of ice. Some have returned to
tell the tale of their experience, and others have been frozen to death. But
they have not succeeded in reaching the North Pole. The secret still remains to
tempt the heroism of the men of the future. For the navigators of all nations
the journey of Arctic exploration has been too great. In 1870 the late Napoleon
of France declared war against William of Germany. Germany was united, and
under the leadership of Protestant Prussia she was destined to change the
balance of power in Europe. Napoleon was afraid, and resolved to fight in the
hope that he would conquer and retain the leadership of Europe himself. The
issue proved, however, that he had sadly miscalculated his strength. In a few
weeks he had to lay down his sword at the feet of the German Emperor. The
journey of aggressive warfare was too great for him.
1. Take the Christian life. During the last ten years there has been
a revival of evangelism. By a variety of methods the ungodly have been reached,
and thousands have been brought into the Church. I rejoice in this fact with
all my heart. But the Churches have not been strengthened by these accessions
as some of us hoped they would be. Popular missions attract the weaker members of the
community. These people are feeble in original temperament, and some of them
have made themselves utterly weak by the evil habits which they have pursued.
The journey of the Christian life is too great for people who pursue such
habits as these.
2. Take ministerial life. Here is a minister. He entered the sacred
profession while he was yet young. He had a keen sense of responsibility, and
he was very susceptible in regard to external discipline; and these two things
kept him right for ten or fifteen years. After that he allowed his spiritual
life to go down, and then his constitutional weakness began to show itself. An
intellectual tendency led him astray. In the end he resigned the ministry. He
looked back from the Gospel plough, and since then he has not been fit for the
kingdom of God. The journey of ministerial life was too great for him.
3. Take the enthusiast. He is sanguine in regard to everything fresh.
If any new form of religious activity is started he is fascinated by it at
once. But after a time he loses his interest in it. The journey of an unbroken
Christian devotion is too great for the spasmodic enthusiastic.
4. Take the practical Christian life. Individual effort is at a
discount. Organised effort is the order of the day. Men have the notion that
they can do but little unless they act in a crowd and make a display. Some day
there will be a reaction in favour of quiet, instructive, and individual modes
of service, and the sooner it comes the better. But we must not wait for ideal
conditions in which to do our duty. Men will associate, and we must learn to
act in association. We have a multiplicity of organisations, and we must help
to work them. The temper of the age is practical, and we must sympathise with
it. We must serve Christ In the social ways and habits of the generation. We
shall do it at some sacrifice of our views and feelings, but we must bear that
for Christ’s sake. (T. Allen.)
God’s considerateness of our frailty
Careless and cruel drivers often load their horses beyond their
strength, and the poor creature tugs and pulls until he drops. Daring and
foolish engineers will put too much pressure on their boilers, or try to force
more power from an engine than it can provide. But our Master guarantees that
tasks shall be balanCed with the precise strength we possess. He knoweth our
frame: He remembereth that we are but dust. He knows the exact pressure we can
stand. He knows the utmost load we can lift. He is a faithful Creator, because
an abiding Sustainer. (Helps for Speakers.)
Verse 8
And went in the strength of that meal forty days.
Elijah’s repast
I. The prophet’s
repast.
1. The sacramental feast is alike simple and plain.
2. Yet is this a mysterious repast.
II. The peculiar
unworthiness of the prophet on this occasion.
1. The Lord’s Supper is a repast prepared for sinners!
2. True, they must be penitent, broken-hearted sinners.
3. It is for the weary, burthened, troubled servants of Jesus.
III. The great
benefit which the prophet derived from this repast, although he was so
unworthy.
1. Spiritual benefits are not necessarily so attached to the
Christian feast. (F. Close, M. A.)
Thought, on life
This incident suggests three things.
I. An undesirable
possibility in human life. The fact that a man lived forty days and forty
nights without food, certainly impresses us with the possibility of his being
kept in existence without food for ever. The possibility is obvious. But such a
state would clearly be very undesirable. Were men to continue here without
food, a disastrous inactivity would ensue. Want of food keeps the world in
action, keeps the limbs and faculties of men going. What would life be without
action? a weak and worthless thing.
II. The supporting
element of all life. What is it that kept Elijah alive without food? The will
of God, nothing else; and this is that which supports all created existences
every moment. “Man cannot live by bread alone.” God’s will can starve men with
bread, and sustain them without it. It is He, not material substances, not
food, that sustains life. He may do it with means, or without means, according
to His pleasure. Let us not trust in means or secondary causes, but in Him who
is the “Fountain of Life.”
III. The Divine care
of a godly life. That God takes care of His people individually is
Verses 9-15
Verses 9-12
And he came thither into a cave.
God manifesting Himself to man
We may learn three things from the passage before us.
I. God
investigates the motives that govern human conduct. “The word of the Lord came
to him, and said unto him, What doest thou here, Elijah?”
1. When God investigates the motives that governs human conduct He
comes near to man. “The word of the Lord came to Elijah.”
2. When God investigates the motives that govern human conduct He
interrogates man. “What doest thou here, Elijah?”
II. Human conduct
is affected by the religious life of the community. Three things affected the
conduct of Elijah.
1. God’s covenant had been forsaken.
2. God’s altars had been destroyed.
3. God’s servants had been slain.
III. God controls
human conduct by the most gentle agencies.
1. Great achievements are accomplished in nature by gentle agencies.
2. Great achievements are accomplished in grace by gentle agencies.
What doest thou here,
Elijah?--
The responsibility of man as an agent
The master-thought contained in this question seems to be
man’s responsibility. “What doest thou here?” I am thy Lord and Master--thou
hast no right here without consulting Me. I demand reason for thy conduct.
I. The fact that
man has all the primary conditions of responsibility. Were the question
put--What must any creature possess in order to render him accountable to God
for his actions? Our answer would be, a threefold capability: a capability to
understand, obey, and transgress the Divine will. If a creature has not the
first--the power to understand what his Maker requires of him, he could not in
equity be held responsible for not rendering it.
II. That man has a
deep consciousness of his responsibility.
III. To the fact
that society deals everywhere with men as responsible. A locomotive rolls its
crushing weight over a man and kills him; a billow dashes against a frail
barque and buries all on board in the mighty abyss; or a wild beast tears to
pieces a human being; has society the same feelings towards that engine, that
raging billow, or beast, as it has towards that man that has just murdered his
brother? No, there are in the last case, as in none of the rest, popular
denunciation and vengeance. It is felt that justice has been outraged, and that
the destroyer is to be dealt with as a criminal. All the arrangements of
society are based upon the principle that its members are responsible.
IV. To the fact
that the Bible everywhere teaches it. It is implied in all its appeals to the
undecided. “Choose ye this day whom ye will serve.” It is implied in its
allegations against the sinner. “Ye will not come unto Me, that ye might have
life.” It is implied in its representation of the judgment-day. “God shall
bring every idle word into judgment.” “Be not deceived, God is not mocked;
whatsoever a man soweth that shall he also reap.” Indeed, the very existence of
the Bible implies it. (Homilist.)
A question from God
We may consider this question as addressed to the following cases:
I. To the deceiver
in the cave of hypocrisy. God asks the deceiver in the cave of hypocrisy, “What
doest thou here?” Deceiving, you say, deceiving and being deceived--deceiving
whom? Not a devil; for every devil who knows the man who is a hypocrite, knows
that he is a hypocrite. Whom? Not an angel; for every angel who knows the
deceiver at all, knows that he is a deceiver. Not the Holy Spirit; for He
strives with the man even in this his hypocrisy. Not the Saviour; for He
searches the heart. Not the Father of spirits; for He has even foreknown the
career of the hypocrite. Deceiving, you say, for how long? At longest only
through a few brief years, and then the revelation! Deceiving, and for what?
What profit is there of deception and hypocrisy? The man who openly saith, “I am an atheist--I am a
deist--I am a sceptic--I have no religion,” is a far better man than he who,
with unbelief at heart, makes a profession of Christianity. “What doest thou
here?” saith God to the deceiver in the cave of hypocrisy.
II. God addresses
this question to the notable sinner in the cave of supposed secrecy. Few
notable transgressors sin openly. There is something mean about sin. You see
men sneak into the haunts of vice. They go when they think that the darkness
covers them. Here! God saith, here! And you a husband! Here! God saith, at the
threshold of these places, and you a father! Here! God saith, and you betrothed
to unpolluted virtue, and to unsuspecting love! Here! risking money that a
diligent and careful father has provided for you! Here! spending the patrimony
which has been left you by a devoted and loving mother! Here! Men and brethren,
you talk of secrecy, there is no such thing as secrecy. It never has been; and
it never can be. The notable sinner in the cave of his supposed secrecy is
recognised by God, who calls to him, and speaks of him by name. “What doest
thou here, Elijah?”
III. “What doest
thou here?” God saith to the penitent sinner in the cave of despair. What art
thou doing? Despair cannot secure pardon. Despair cannot bring peace. Despair
cannot purify the heart. Despair will not pray. Despair can find no promise.
And, what is more, despair, in the heart of a penitent sinner, hath neither
warrant nor justification.
IV. “What doest
thou here?” God saith to the converted man in the cave of non-confession. Here
is a man walking in the counsel of the ungodly; a man standing in the way of
sinners; a man sitting in the seat of the scornful. He becomes converted: but
he is yoked with unbelievers; he is connected with unrighteousness--with
unrighteousness in his business--unrighteousness in his
recreations--unrighteousness in his connections and friendships. And God saith
to him, “Come out from among them, and be ye separate, and touch not the
unclean thing.”
V. To the godly,
in the cave of luxurious retirement and easy seclusion, God addresses the same
question.
VI. He speaks also
to the godly in the cave of misanthropy and disgust. There is a cave
Adullam--an old resort for religious people, and it has been well kept up.
There is such a cave near every Church of God; and thither the contented with
themselves, and the discontented with everybody else, have constantly resorted.
(S. Martin.)
A call to self-knowledge
Every wise master mariner wants to know at sea just where his ship
is, just what his longitude and latitude are. Years ago, when I was crossing
the Atlantic Ocean, we had a long spell of bad foggy weather. For several days
and nights neither sun nor stars had been visible. We had been sailing by dead
reckoning, and did not know where we were exactly. One night while I was on
deck, there was a sudden rift in the clouds, and the North Star shone out. Word
was sent ai; once to the captain, and I remember how the captain fairly laid
himself across the compass, and took an observation of that star, because he
wanted to know just where he was. Every wise man wants to know where he stands
physically, whether he has a sound heart and sound lungs. He may find out his
physical condition is not as good as he hoped, but if his physical condition is
bad, he wants to know it, so that he can guard against the dangers he might
plunge into. Many a man lies in the grave to-night because he had a weak heart
and didn’t know it. It is very important in all the affairs of this world, that
we know just where we are, but it is infinitely more important that we know
where we are in the affairs of eternity. (Thomas Spurgeon.)
Elijah in the cave
This strange narrative serves to illustrate the following
things:--
I. The fallibility
of an eminent saint. Elijah was undoubtedly an eminent saint. His teachings,
miracles, prayers, and the testimony of God’s word show this. But he was not
perfect, and the fact of his fleeing to the cave shows this. Why did he retire
to solitude?
1. The want of success. We are not judges of success. Nor is success
the right rule of life.
2. The corruptness of his times. The very reason why he of all men
should be out in public life.
3. The fear of persecution.
II. The minuteness
of god’s providence. God knew where he was.
1. God knows everything about the individual man. Jacob at Bethel,
Jonah on the sea, Moses at Midian, John in Patmos, and now Elijah in the cave.
2. God demands from individual man an account of himself. “What doest
thou here?”
III. The order of
Divine procedure. This terrible manifestation came first. Then came the “still
small voice.”
1. This is a type of God’s dispensations with the race at large.
First came the terrible, and then the more pacific. Judaism is the
terrible--Christianity the mild. “Ye are not come to the mount that might be
touched,” etc.
2. This is a type of God’s dealing with His people individually.
There must first come the storm, earthquake, and fire of moral conviction; and
then the “still small voice,” etc.
IV. The force of
pacific agency.
1. The pacific is most manifestly Divine. “The Lord was not in the
wind,” etc. But He was in the “still small voice.” God is a “God of peace.”
Nature shows this. Storms are exceptions. The history of Christ shows this. “He
did not cause His voice to be heard,” etc. The influence of His Gospel shows
this.
2. The pacific is most morally effective. Neither the thunders of
civil law, nor the fulminations of a heartless declaimer, can touch the soul.
Nothing can travel to her seat but the gentle message of the truth in love.
“Thy gentleness hath made me great.” (Homilist.)
Verse 10
I have been very jealous for the Lord God of Hosts.
Impatience of results
In moments of depression the wisest may fall into it, but it is
nevertheless a mistake, as the following observations by Dr. Storrs suggest: “I
do not see the cathedral as yet, when I go into the confused quarry-yard and
see there the half-wrought stones, the clumsy blocks that are by and by to be
decorated capitals. But when at last they are finished in form and brought
together, the mighty building rises in the air, an ever-enduring psalm in rock.
I do not see the picture yet, when I look upon the palette, with its blotches
and stains and lumps of colour. By and by, when the skilful brush of the
painter has distributed those colours, I see the radiant beauty of the Madonna,
the pathos of the Magdalene. I do not see yet the perfect kingdom of God upon
the earth, but I see the colours which are to blend in it. I see the already
half-chiselled rock out of which it shall be wrought, and I am not going to
despond now, when so much already has been accomplished.”
I, even I only, am left.--
God’s cure for depression
That is how God encouraged a brave worker in his moment of
depression. The signs of the time were ominous. Ahab sat upon the throne, with
an unscrupulous and powerful queen by his side. A corrupt court had produced a
corrupt nation. Israel had denied her high and singular election, and had vaunted
her infidelity in the face of Heaven. No wonder the prophet seeks the end of
his pathetic and apparently ineffective ministry. “I, even I only, am left.”
But he was mistaken. There was more goodness in the nation than he perceived.
God’s reply was, “I have left Me seven thousand in Israel.” A needed word this
for worked in every age, perhaps never more needed than to-day. This is a great
age for publicity. Our work is done on the platform as never before. In
politics, in social reform, in philanthropy, we estimate our strength by the
number who join our processions and attend our demonstrations. It can scarcely
be said of organised religion, “It does not cry, nor lift up, nor cause its
voice to be heard in the street.” But let us not imagine that spiritual
religion is confined to that which parades itself before, the public eye, nor
try to estimate Christian progress by a Church census. God s work goes on when
the prophet has ceased to preach, and retires in deep despondency from the
world. “I have left Me seven thousand.” In face of all the scandal which
disgraced Italy and the Church in the fifteenth century, Savonarola could still
point to a living witness to the Divine power which might be constantly seen in
the lives of humble disciples. Contemporary with our English Restoration, with
all its abominations, we find Herbert, Vaughan, Crashaw, Milton, and some of
the sweetest spiritual singers God has given to our nation. It is easy to see
the power of the Baalim in England to-day--the practical denial of God found in
high places; the corruption and fraud which now and again manifest their
deep-seated power in the commercial world; the selfishness, the heartlessness,
of many of our pleasures and pursuits; the timidity, the wrongful compromise,
the inconsistencies of the churches and churchgoers. These things, alas, are
very obvious. What then! God preserves His remnant, and never forgets the seven
thousand. Virtue is not so sensational as vice, nor does it attract the same
attention, but it is stronger and more substantial. London should not be judged
by Piccadilly at night. Out of sight of the casual visitor you have the purity
and peace of thousands of homes where parents live and pray, and where brothers
and sisters learn the joy of mutual help. Goodness appears in unexpected
places. Heartened by this, each soul is to return to the duty of the moment.
“Go thou thy way.” The seven thousand belong to God--duty belongs to us. In the
presence of the powerful Baalim I can do the duty that lies next to me. We may
not be able to shatter the idol to pieces in the Senate, or the market-place,
but we can now
shatter its power within our own lives. None the less, remember that our own
loyalty to God will help others, though we may be unconscious of this. Seven
thousand hearts were encouraged by that brave stand upon Carmel, but Elijah
knew nothing of it. Our cities to-day frequently draw their water from distant
lakes. In deep underground channels the precious stream is conveyed to rise in
our homes. Elijah conceived himself as a solitary lake “embosomed among the
hills.” But out from him proceeded streams of living waters which cleansed and
refreshed human hearts in distant places. Loyalty to God does not cease with
itself; it finds an indestructible ally within every soul. A brave stand for
the right frequently brings those to decision who were halting between two
opinions, while it rebukes the evil and heartens the good. (Trevor H.
Davies.)
The strength and weakness of human sympathy
This was the darkest hour in the prophet’s history, and
this a sad revelation of the weakness to be found in a character possessing so
many elements of strength. There are two truths we propose to illustrate here.
I. The blessedness
of human sympathy. God has not designed that we should live alone. He gathers
men into families. He collects His people into churches that they may afford
mutual help, take their respective parts in a common work, and together share a
common reward. He requires that we all be as links in this grand chain of love,
adding some strength to it, and yet receiving strength from it in our turn.
II. The limits of
human sympathy. Though its power to aid and comfort be great, there are bounds
to its influence.
It is only within a certain range, and that range comparatively narrow, that it
can carry on its ministry of love. There is a vast region of spiritual
experiences, some bright and joyous, but more of the sad and sombre character,
closely fenced against it by barriers which it can never pass. Emphatically is
it true that there is a bitterness which each heart must taste for Itself, and
that it has joys with which no stranger can intermeddle.
1. More particularly, we observe life’s most serious perplexities
must generally be solved by ourselves.
2. Again, life’s severest conflicts must be fought by ourselves.
Another man’s temptations are not mine--another man’s doubts are not
mine--another man’s perplexities are not mine--and therefore independently I
must stand and struggle.
3. So with the heaviest sorrows we have to endure. They are those
which no friend, however beloved, can fully understand or share.
4. So in some of life’s greatest works, we have to stand alone. The
world has always been slow to recognise her best benefactors, and even the men
who by their discoveries in science have contributed most to the advance of
civilisation and the increase of wealth, have generally had a solitary and
toilsome, often a dangerous path to tread, their teachings distrusted, their
aims described as utopian, themselves despised as foolish visionaries. (J.
G. Rogers, B. A.)
Alone, yet not atone
Behold a real and a right bravery. In the British Museum I saw the
MS. of a letter from General Gordon to his sister, dated Khartoum, February
27th, 1884--“I have sent Stewart off to scour the river White Nile, and another
expedition to push back rebels on the Blue Nile. With Stewart has gone Power,
the British
consul and Times correspondent; so I am left alone in the vast palace,
but not alone, for I feel great confidence in my Saviour’s presence. I trust
and stay myself in the fact that not one sparrow falls to the ground without
our Lord’s permission; also that enough for the day is the evil. All things are
ruled by Him for His glory, and it is rebellion to murmur against His will” A
real bravery springs out of oneness with God. Do we not all need that sort of
courage for this
new year?
Verses 11-21
And He said, Go forth, and stand upon the mount before the Lord.
Elijah’s vision
I. The man
himself. A great craggy soul that towers above the men of his age--his head
wreathed in the glories of heaven. But though standing out from the age in
which he lives as one of God’s Elect--yet a man with a human heart capable of
rejoicing and despondency even as others.
II. His dread
mission. To be the agent of Divine judgments. He was filled with righteous
indignation at seeing the old worship of his country--the trust in the one
living God--superseded by a religion which was but a form of paganism. And the
God of Israel, who was a jealous God--jealous of the affections of His people
being turned aside to another--empowered the prophet to do the terrible work of
destruction.
III. The vision of
God. When Elijah had done the terrible deed of blood, the reaction of spirit
was so great, the dejection so overwhelming, that he was glad to get away from
all society into a desert place to pray that he might die. Elijah’s anger had
been the flaming forth of deep passionate love. The love of God sometimes
flames forth in flashes of anger which make the very earth to reel and stagger.
What is God’s justice but His love flashing out in angry retribution? Never
argue, as so many do, that because God is love, therefore He will not punish
sin. Learn--
1. That in terrible crises of life the faithful man may look for some
special vision of God.
2. To distinguish between blind zeal which destroys, and intelligent
zeal which edifies.
3. That while the might of Jehovah is used to crush wrong, the voice
of love is needful to build up men in righteousness. (R. Thomas, M. A.)
Upon the mount
1. The Lord came to him there with a searching question. Every
word went home to him with rebuke. “What doest thou here, Elijah?” This is a
time for action, the work of reformation is only begun; the elders of Israel
must be encouraged and led in their protest against the State idolatry. Thou
art a man of action; what doest thou, the champion of Mount Carmel, the
protagonist in this holy war, thou Elijah, whose name declares that the Lord is
thy Strength? What doest thou here, hiding in this gloomy cave far away from
the scattered flock who sorely need thy watchful care? Elijah shrinks from a
direct reply. Self is still uppermost in his thoughts, lie almost boasts of his
loyalty to God. He deeply laments the infidelity and apostasy of the nation,
and he complains that his own life is in danger. His eyes are still on himself.
But Elijah is concerned for himself, and thinks his valiant championship of
God’s cause should have received different recognition. Child of God, never
pity yourself; pity others. All heaven cares for thee; it is wrong to have any
care for yourself.
2. After the searching question came a solemn command. God said, “Go
forth, and stand upon the mount before the Lord.”
3. After the solemn command came a Divine manifestation, a marvellous
display of the majesty and power of God. And in the pains God took with His
moody servant, moving all creation, as it were, to teach him lessons, we learn
how very dear to God Elijah was. The barrier of resentment and
self-justification was swept away. Elijah wrapped his face in his mantle, and
stood before the Lord. It was a parable, surely, of the variety of Divine
operations. And just as hurricane and earthquake prepared the way, making the
still small voice the more impressive and subduing, so Elijah’s ministry had
done its work. He had been sent with famine and fire and sword; and now all
Israel was awakened, and the more ready to hearken to the “still small voice.”
4. But after the Divine manifestation came the Divine commission. God
had more work for Elijah to do. He was not to be cast aside or superseded. He
was to be strengthened and cheered by the companionship of Elisha; but Elijah
was still to be God’s honoured servant, God’s chosen messenger. It would,
indeed, have been a grievous thing if a sudden failure of faith should have
disqualified him for future service. God still had confidence in Elijah. (F.
S. Webster, M. A.)
Some mistakes regarding the earthquake
The earthquake has shaken the Queen City of the South, and given
Charleston ashes for her beauty.
1. As a scientific fact, there is no more of God, His wisdom, power,
or purpose, displayed in an earthquake than there is in the quiet growth of the
grass in our door-yard; no more of God in the cyclone than in the perfumed
breath of the flowers; no more of God in the conflagration kindled by the
lightning or the volcano than in the glow of animal heat in our bodies. The
steady, hardly audible, ticking of a watch reveals as much of the intelligence
and purpose of its artificer as does the striking of the clock upon the steeple
bell; and these alarming things in nature are but the louder striking of the
mechanism of the universe. Great minds show their greatness by recognising the
great in little things, recognising God in the commonplace things of daily
observation. Sir David Brewster raised his hands and cried: “Great God! how
marvellous are Thy works!” when he studied a tiny bit of animated matter. A distinguished
naturalist wrote over his study door: “Be reverent, for God is here.” Jesus
illustrated the Divine Providence, not by world-shaking events, but by the
clothing of the lily and the floating wing of the sparrow.
2. It is a mistake to imagine that there are any deeper lessons of
man’s impotence and dependence to be learned from these astounding things than
ought to be learned from everyday occurrences. Fifty men were killed by the
earthquake; but as many die every
night in this city without the slightest tremor being observed in the earth’s
surface until their survivors dig their graves. Some millions of dollars worth
of property was shaken down by the mysterious visitant; but the common law of
decay is all the time shaking our habitations back again to original dust.
3. It is a mistake to imagine that men will lay these lessons more to
heart, and seek more persistently the favour of God, because His more
astounding judgments are abroad in the land. The inhabitants of Naples are not
the less worldly and thoughtless because Vesuvius keeps its flag of smoke all
the time flying over the city, and so frequently awakens them by the lava-burst
flashing its glare through their windows. Though she sits on the quivering edge
of destruction, and her children play on the mounds of buried Pompeii and
Herculaneum, Naples is one of the most godless haunts on the face of the earth.
The Eastern Mediterranean is on the great earthquake belt. Its islands and
shores are torn by convulsions, many of them having occurred within historic
times, and not a few of them within the memory of the present generation. Yet
this has always been the belt of human corruption. Antioch and Cyprus,
earthquake centres, were the seats of the most abominable paganism and
immorality. There is an Eastern proverb: “God comes to us without bell.” The
deepest Divine impressions are those which are made silently upon the heart,
not by wind, nor earthquake, nor fire, but by the “still small voice” of His
spirit. These startling events can do no more than arrest our attention
momentarily. They are like a hand touching us to awaken, but whether we are
bettered or not depends upon our laying the lesson to heart, hearing within the
soul the spiritual voice. Do you remember how beautifully St. Augustine speaks
of God’s talking with the human soul--an exquisite description of the still
small voice? He and Monica were communing together about spiritual things--“We
were saying to ourselves then: If the tumult of the flesh were hushed, hushed
the images of earth, and waters and air, hushed also the poles of heaven, yea,
the very soul hushed to herself . . . hushed all dreams and imaginary
revelations, every tongue and every sign . . . and He alone should speak . . .
if we might hear His word, not through any tongue of flesh, nor angel’s voice,
nor sound of thunder, nor in dark riddle of similitude . . . but might hear His
very self . . . were not this to enter into the joy of the Lord?” (Homiletic
Review.)
The disclosure on the mount
We may learn from this incident:
I. That men are
not brought to acknowledge God merely by outward manifestations of power or
greatness. Elijah needed this lesson. He looked to the appearance on Carmel to
bring the Israelites to renounce their idolatry, and to bow to the authority of
Jehovah; and because they did not he was disappointed, and his heart failed
him. By what he saw at Horeb he would be convinced that outward demonstrations
of power or glory were not sufficient to lead men to repentance. Our Lord, in
the days of His flesh, constantly met with those who sought signs and wonders
as the only means of producing faith. And the same feeling is still shown by
men in the importance they attach to some outward circumstances for producing
repentance--calamity, bereavement, affliction.
II. That outward
circumstances may be helpful in bringing men to acknowledge God. While some
depend too much upon the outward and circumstantial, others go to the opposite
extreme, and ignore them altogether in the work of God, whereas they have a
place in that work. Calamity or affliction may not produce repentance, but they
tend to subdue the spirit, and make it more susceptible to the work of God.
They break up the fallow ground, and prepare it for the seed of truth.
III. That true
repentance is produced by the voice of God. It was when Elijah heard the “still
small voice” that he wrapped his face in his mantle, and went out, and stood at
the entrance of the cave.
IV. That Christian
work is needful to spiritual health. Elijah was commanded to return to the
wilderness of Damascus, and to do the work assigned him. He obeyed, and we
never read of him wandering away again. Many Christians get low-spirited, and
wander into forbidden paths, because of inactivity. Earnest work for God would
restore and preserve them. (The Study and the Pulpit.)
Elijah at Horeb
I. The truest
revelation of God to man is a simple one. Whirlwind, earthquake, and fire did
not seem to greatly move the prophet. The solitary voice, still and small, with
nothing bewildering about it, invited attention to the speaker and the message.
It is a mistake which men often make that they look more confidently for
revelations of God in large things than in small. For illustrations of the
workings of the Divine Providence, they take whole epochs of history. They use
a system of numeration in which dynasties and nations are the digits. They
trace the slow processes by which some monstrous wrong is at last brought to
extinction, or some great truth is finally established in sovereignty, and they
say, see how evidently God directs the affairs of the world. To our Lord, a
dead sparrow by the roadside meant quite as milch, for He said: “Are not two
sparrows sold for a farthing? and not one of them falleth to the ground without
your Father.” It is not possible for all men to be profound students; but all
men profoundly need that God should stand revealed to them, not after
protracted investigation, and once or twice in a lifetime, but every day, and
in each new emergency of experience; and just that is possible to them,
because, to rightseeing men, God is discernible in items as well as aggregates.
II. The truest
revelation of God to man is an intelligible one. The prophet on Horeb might
have been in doubt as to the full significance of the wonders with which God
prefaced His presence: the “still small voice,” speaking in intelligible
phrase, could not be misunderstood. It was entirely reasonable that, when the
revelation assumed that form, the prophet should bow in reverence and recognise
the true presence of God. That there is a manifestation of God in the physical
universe is true, but the revelation of Him is largely incidental. There is no
evidence that God built this fine frame of nature simply or mostly to instruct
men as to His character and will. It has other uses. A house incidentally
expresses the tastes and wishes of its builder; but it was not built for that
purpose, but to provide a family with a home. And therefore, and further, the
teachings of nature in regard to God are vague and general. The truest
revelation of God in regard to His character and will, is His purposed
revelation--the intelligible Scriptures, given for the sole end of making men
wise spiritually.
III. The truest
revelation of God to man is often, if not always, a personal one. The whirlwind
and earthquake and fire did not seem charged with any special message to the
prophet; but the voice said, “What doest thou here, Elijah?” It was personality
addressing personality, and the prophet recognised the words as proceeding out of the
mouth of God.
IV. The truest
revelation of God to man is a practical one. “What doest thou here, Elijah?”
was the burden of the “still small voice.” It was a charge that the prophet was
away from duty, and an urgency for him to resume his deserted place. There is
something of instruction in the Gospel, but more of incitement. It comes to
sinful men, and says, Repent; to doubting men, and says, Believe; to serving
men, and says, Run, strive, fight. There are no bowers of ease for idle men in
this book; no cradles of inaction where they may rock and dream; no empty
chambers where they may spin their gossamer webs of speculation. To every man,
this Scripture comes with its call to immediate and earnest action. (Monday
Club.)
God’s manifestation to Elijah at Horeb
We learn here--
I. That the divine
working in nature is intended by God to prepare men for a higher revelation.
This was the intention of the miracles of Christ.
II. When men
reverentially listen to the lower forms of teaching, God gives them the higher
revelation. Nicodemus allowed the teaching of Christ in His miracles to bring
conviction of His Divine mission to his heart (John 3:2); how willingly the Saviour led
him into the deeper mysteries of His kingdom (1 Kings 19:16).
III. That although
the physical power of God is strong enough to terrify men into submission, He
will have them brought to obedience by moral suasion. The prophet longed for
the eternal overthrow of the forces of evil, by what we may call God’s physical
omnipotence. (Outlines from Sermons by a London Minister.)
Verse 12
A still small voice.
The still small voice
I. This vision
ought to teach us that God is often more really present in little things and in
quiet and unostentatious agencies than in things that seem to us great, and
agencies that we think the most impressive. We are apt to look for God in the
storm, the earthquake, and the fire, and to overlook God in the still small
voices of nature. But God is not more in the forked lightning that rends the
rock than in the sunbeam that plays with the rippling wave; He is not more in
the roaring cataract than in the silent dewdrop; He is not more in the spangled
heavens, whose clustered stars attract our gaze, than in the tiny flower whose
unprotected beauty we trample beneath our feet. God is not more in the great
events of nations than in the smallest incidents in the lives of individuals.
He who counts the stars also numbers the hairs of our heads. Indeed, the most
powerful agencies in nature are generally the most silent in their operation,
and often work in the deepest obscurity. But this is especially true in
relation to God Himself. He is the greatest agent, and yet He works in the
deepest obscurity. There is a sense in which He does everything, and yet He
does it so silently and secretly that there are those who say He does nothing,
that in fact there is no God. As in the natural, so in the spiritual world, the
strongest forces are the least seen. “The wind bloweth where it listeth, and
thou hearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh or whither
it goeth: so is every one that is born of the Spirit.” There is not always the
most good being done where there is the most noise. “Verily Thou art a God that
hidest Thyself, O God, the God of Israel.” He does not come out and sound a
trumpet before Him when He is about to do a great and good work. The agencies
that are even now doing the most good in society are not the most ostentatious
and self-asserting. It is not by parliaments and armies and police that the
commonwealth is maintained and peace preserved. A stronger force than all these
is the leaven of religious life which quietly operates in families.
II. This vision is
an example of the way in which God very generally reveals Himself to men. He
sends messengers to prepare His way. These messengers are fitted to arrest and
arouse our attention, and then He Himself comes and speaks to us in “a still
small voice.” He said, “Go forth,” etc. (1 Kings 19:11-12). These things are
an allegory and example of God’s dealings. He sent the law and the prophets
with all their thunderings and earthquakes to prepare the way for the Gospel.
1. He often sends to us the whirlwind of adversity.
2. God sent an earthquake. This may represent events in providence
still more severe, such as bereavement, which swallowed up out of sight objects
dearer to you than property, the desire of the eyes and the living treasures of
the loving heart.
3. God sent a fire. That fire may aptly represent persona]
affliction. This is often likened to a furnace: it consumes the health, and
often brings eternity nearer to us than does even the death of a friend.
4. Then comes the “still small voice.” This is pre-eminently the
Voice of God. The other dispensations are only intended to prepare the way for
this Voice. God does not inflict or grieve us because He takes pleasure in
doing it, but because He wishes to speak to us, and we will not listen till we
are thus arrested. The silvery tones of God’s voice are constantly heard by
those whose ears are inclined to hear.
III. This vision
contains an example of the message which God is constantly addressing to men.
1. It is a word of rebuke for forsaking Him. “What doest thou here,
Elijah?” This is the question which you address to a man who is out of his
proper place--What are you doing here?
2. This word of rebuke is also addressed to the backslider. God says
to him, What are you doing here?--in sin, among husks and swine, after having
eaten of the hidden manna, and been in fellowship with God and Christ and the
excellent of the earth, and the powers of the world to come.
3. This word of rebuke is also addressed to the Christian who has
forsaken the post of duty.
4. The message also contains a word of exhortation: “Go, return.”
This is what God says to the sinner: “Return--return unto Me, and I will return
unto you.” (A. Clark.)
The still small voice
There are some important truths taught us by the account of the
Lord’s dealings with Elijah--truths worthy of a prayerful perusal.
I. The attractions
of the Gospel are far more powerful to save than the intimidations of the law.
This is a lesson which the display of God’s majesty and the subsequent effect
of His mildness were intended to teach. I do not read of any impressions being
produced upon the mind of the prophet by the convulsions of nature, though I
can quite suppose that his very blood chilled at the awe-inspiring scene he
witnessed. But I find that when the “still small voice” fell upon his ear, he
was smitten to the heart and humbled at Jehovah’s feet. The terrible phenomena
illustrated the giving of the Law; the gentle voice the giving of the Gospel.
The Law was given amid thunder and fire and earthquake; the Gospel fell from
the hallowed lips of the loving Son of God. The Law threatens; the Gospel
invites. The Law wounds; the Gospel heals. The one speaks of death; the other
points to life. The one lays on us burdens grievous to be borne; the other
calls us to duties delightful to fulfil. The one holds out penalty and the
lash; the other recompense and love.
II. The “still
small voice” and its effects on Elijah may be regarded as showing that God
works most successfully by quiet and invisible agencies. This is a truth daily
proved to us in the natural world. There the Almighty mutely elevates His
mountains, excavates His valleys, levels His plains, dimples the bosom of
expansive seas, gives beauty to the heavens, guides worlds in their orbits,
tints His flowers with beauteous hues, and makes His fruit nectarious. No man
hears a sound or sees a motion where the Great Architect is carrying out some
of His gigantic plans. How gently falls the dew, how silently travels the
sunbeam, how noiseless is electricity in its movements. But what effective
agencies are these! How the face of nature is gladdened and rendered fruitful
by them!
1. The “still small voice” of the Holy Spirit has effected wonders.
Coming to us as the Spirit of Truth, the Holy Ghost holds up before us in the
written and preached word our full-length portraiture, and then unfolds to our
gaze the wondrous beauties of the God-Man.
2. The “still small voice” of conscience often speaks to us. Its
utterance is not audible to the outward ear, yet the stoutest hearts have
quailed before it. Men who have stood unmoved before the thunderings of
adversity and the whirlwind of persecution, have succumbed to the whisperings
of this inward monitor.
3. God makes great use of the “still small voice” of individual
influence. We have lived with some who have let their light shine before men,
and that light has shone upon our hearts, revealing to us the deformity and
death within. (J. H. Hitchens.)
The still small voice
Feeble minds attain their petty ends with much noise and exertion;
the Infinite Mind delights in accomplishing the greatest results silently, and
through the operation of small causes; and the most satisfactory proofs of the
presence of God are found in the “still small voice” with which he speaks to
us.
1. It is so in the natural world. We see God as Elijah did, rending
the mountains with His mighty wind; we hear His voice in the thunder, the
earthquake, and the storm; but what is the effect of all these terrible
manifestations of His attributes compared with that of the “still small voice,”
which reaches us from every part of His works? Very frequently will it be
discovered, that such terrifying manifestations of the God of nature result in
no lasting moral good; while that “still small voice,” which speaks to us in
every smiling
exhibition of His benevolence on earth, and from every bright world above us,
almost compels us to adore, and causes our affections to come forth as Elijah
came forth from the cave, and bend in humble reverence before a present God.
2. And again we may see our text illustrated in the providences of
God. When we witness any sudden stroke of bereavement; when we see a family or
an individual visited by some signal calamity, some awful and overwhelming
blow, we are apt to say to ourselves, “Surely such a warning will not be in
vain.” But is it not often in vain? After waiting some time, do we not find
that the momentary terror and agitation of the blow have all subsided; and that
the greater the calamity, the deeper apparently is the stupidity of those on
whom it is sent, after it has gone by?
3. And thus it is, again, in the spiritual world. John the Baptist
wrought no miracles, but all men came to him; our Saviour performed so many
mighty works that nearly every inhabitant of Judaea might have seen some of
them, and yet to human apprehension the result was less successful. It is not
unlikely that a single sermon of St. Peter, on the day of Pentecost, because
attended with the Spirit’s influence, may have made more converts than all the
mighty works which our Saviour performed. Miracles are addressed to the understanding. They do
not affect the heart; and it is the heart that needs to be moved; it is the
conscience which must be awakened, before there can be any moral reformation. (W.
H. Lewis, D. D.)
The power of quiet forces
1. Materialism and spirituality are ever at war, ever have been. The
claims of the first, that the outward and visible only--that which we can see,
feel, and touch--or which the chemist, the microscopist, or the physicist can
examine and analyse, alone is worthy to be considered or to be classed as
knowledge, has many sincere advocates. Those who believe that at the back of
all natural phenomena there is a realm of spiritual life, just as real, just as
tangible to the higher sense, and who maintain that this, too, is knowledge,
albeit personal--are a large, shall we say a growing army? Spiritual things are
spiritually discerned; hence the impossibility of convincing a materialist of
these things. But there is a materialism not dogmatic, but real, with which we
are surrounded all the time. We are in touch with it everywhere. If affects us
unconsciously. We cannot rid ourselves of it. This can be recognised in our
religious lives oftener than we are ready to admit. Our activities take upon
themselves many materialistic forms, many useful, some questionable, and we can
scarcely find time to sit down to listen for the “still small voice.” We are
labouring at a disadvantage. Our inheritance, our environments do not aid us,
and the life we ordinarily live places us not upon vantage-ground, but where
constant effort and watchfulness are necessary to avoid wrong conclusions.
2. All the great questions of reform vary but little in aim. The
divergence is not the result of the want of a purpose in any one direction, so
much as an intelligent insight into the causes which produce our moral
disturbances. Public sentiment is ready to denounce the want of virtue or
principle. Rumour is ready to carry on its steady current the moral carrion,
until the putrefying mass contaminates and destroys the social order of
society, and yet the cause of much of our evil is not understood nor disturbed.
Christian and moralist alike forget their reason and good common sense in the
excitement, and become like the lake when disturbed by a storm. Its quiet waters
are ruffled and active. Its waves are high and powerful, and bear upon their
crown the dignified crest of matured agitation. The elements frighten us, and
we tremble with fear. But what of the storm? Need the farmers and other people
upon the lake’s shore deceive themselves that the waters of the lake are
rising? Need they seek other habitations lest the water become so high that
their farms and houses be overflowed by the great increase of water? No, no.
Very soon the storm subsides. The bosom of the lake wears its usual peaceful
calm. The clouds are parted, and God smiles through the warm, bright light,
saying, “Peace, be still.” The leaven of the Gospel which raises “three
measures of meal” is quiet, insinuating power. True reforms never come in any other
way. It takes time and the warm, healthy glow of united Christian hearts in
society to aid it in raising the life to a place of spiritual existence.
3. The silent voice which speaks to our hearts, speaks in a language
which commands our respect. We may not be able to give the thought in words. We
are all sensible of deeper mysteries than our understanding can solve. The
strongest convictions of life have sprung from these deeper sentiments of the
soul. They furnish us food for reflection, and give us the fuel which warms the
heart to an energy that will not be quieted. The noisy demonstrations of life
pass by us unnoticed, and we fear them not; but silent voice awakens us. We are
all attention, our hearts tremble with fear or joy. The steady onward strides
of all the great forces of life are never heralded before their coming, saying,
Behold, I come! They are not seen but known by that which they do, and others
praise them. Strong life is quiet and modest, dignified and powerful. Light and
heat, electricity, and many other agencies for good or for evil, as the
circumstances may make them, work silently in the secret chambers of nature.
God has made man not only in His moral image, but nature and man strongest when
seemingly silent and composed. There is a dignity in the thought of such a
life. There is an inexpressible awe in the presence of such a God who in the
secret chambers of an eternity silently makes known to the life within us His
will.
4. We leave very much of our religious faith behind us when we resort
to physical rather than moral force in our work. It is then the command for
solicitude is, “You must,” “You shall,” when the silent and all-potent
influences of moral power should win. When the Church of Christ had assumed
strong organisation and exercised great temporal power, as in the Dark Ages, it
was because she had lost the moral force which an all-pervading spirituality
furnishes. “It is not by might, nor by power, but by My spirit, saith the
Lord.”
5. How ready are we, as we see the weakness of the Church--her lack
of success in winning many from sin--to flee to the cave of despair, as did the
prophet Elijah, and thus in the confines of natural resources try to protect
ourselves. This is one of the grievous mistakes of the people of God. Men are
hidden in their professions, in their business, in their selfish pursuits, and
seem not to have the moral courage or inclination to stand erect as men of God,
saying, “Judge ye, my God is Jehovah.” They are not unlike the prophet
Elijah in the cave, and when the Lord says unto the soul thus neglecting God’s
altars, when the Lord speaks unto the man or woman who thus neglects the
ordinances of God’s house, the Church, the prayer meeting, the family altar,
the answer comes as of old, “I have been very jealous for the Lord God of
hosts: for the children of Israel have forsaken Thy covenant, thrown down Thine
altars, and slain Thy prophets, and I, even I only, am left.”
6. The influences which are potent in lifting from the pit to
a life of godliness are not noisy or demonstrative, but silent and insinuating.
All true reforms commence in the heart of mankind, and are significant in that
they are spiritual, rather than materialistic. Like the air by which we are
warmed when chilled, we are bathed in it, and infused with a new life ere we
are aware of it. Even so God comes to you and me in the silent influences of
life. (J. M. La Bach.)
Christianity-a voice
I. Christianity is
a voice--not only a book, but also a voice. Other religions have books:
Mahometanism has a book, and a grand old book it is too, called the Koran. Some
of its stories are equal in beauty to the stories of the Book of Genesis, but
Mahometanism has no voice. Mahomet is dead, and his voice is silent in the
tomb. Hinduism has books, and interesting books they are too, called the Veda
and Shaster. They are full of hymns and precepts, some of them equal in purity
and spirituality to some of the Old Testament Psalms and Proverbs, but Hinduism
has no voice. The great prophets of Hinduism, who thought out the books, are
dead, and their voices are heard no more. Christianity also has a book. It is
more beautiful than the Koran, and more poetic and spiritual than the Veda or
Shaster. But the book of Christianity is also a voice. The Prophet of
Christianity is not dead. Christ is alive, and fills all the words of the Bible
with a living voice. He speaks again, through His spirit, the very words which
He spoke when on earth. Herein is the great difference between the Bible and
every other book. The voice of Christianity is a revealing voice. God is not to
be seen, only heard. “No man hath seen God at any time; the Only begotten Son
which is in the bosom of the Father, He hath declared Him.” And He declares Him
still. As one said: “When we look, with the eye of faith, on Christ in history
we behold only the man, but we hear the God.” The man only is visible, but the
invisible God speaks. God is not seen in the world of matter, but He is heard.
II. Christianity is
a small voice. Would it not be better were it a large voice filling the world
with its melody, and captivating every ear with its charming music? It appears
so; but when we study the subject closer we find that what appears to be a
disadvantage is a very great blessing.
1. A voice for the weakest. It is a small voice, that the human ear
may be able to take it in as a whole. One of the loudest noises that art can
produce is the report of cannon as it discharges its perilous contents into the
air, but the human ear is too small to take it in as a whole; only a small
portion of the sound enters our ears as it passes by through the air. One of
the loudest sounds Nature can produce is that of a thunder-clap, rending the
air with its sound and echo, but only a small part of it reaches our ears,
carried by the air wavelets. There are sounds too great and awful for the human
ear to take them in as a whole. The voice that man can take in must be small.
The voice of Christianity has been ordained small by God that the weak, small
human ear may take it all in.
2. The voice of Christianity is ordained small in order that other
voices may be employed to re-echo it, in preaching and living it. And as they
reproduce it they are transformed into the same melodious quality.
III. Christianity is
a still voice, or, according to the Welsh translation, which undoubtedly is
better here, Christianity is a silent voice. It is a voice; it is
silence--contradiction in terms, but not in the truths themselves. It is a
voice to some; it is silence to others. It is a voice to the ear of faith, but
it is silence to the ear of unbelief. It is a voice to the children of God, but
it is silence to the children of the devil. There is a music in this world that
no one can hear except those who have had their spiritual ears opened by
Divine grace. The people of the world boast of the music of the opera and
theatre, but they have not yet heard the conductor of heaven’s choir giving the
keynote to the saints upon earth. The world has not yet heard the sweetest
music--the voice of Him who made the storm to sleep by His “Peace, be still.”
We must have our spiritual ears opened by Christ; then we shall hear His Voice.
The voice of the Opener of our spiritual ears will be the first we hear, and
ever will be the sweetest. The sweetest voice on earth is the voice of Christ
to the saints.
1. It is a silent voice, that God may be able to tell the secret of
His kingdom to His children, so that the devil, who is at the elbow, cannot hear it. God has secrets
to impart to His people which no one is to hear.
2. Christianity is a silent voice, that the weak and the painful and
the dying may listen to it without being hurt. There are events in human life
when the voice of the world and society are too loud and harsh for us to listen
to it without being pained. As I was walking, a few years ago, over the streets
of Cardiff I noticed that a part of the street was covered over with chaff four
or five inches deep. I stood wondering what it was good for. Failing to solve
the mystery I ventured to ask a policeman, who was standing by, what was the
meaning of the chaff-covered street. “In that house,” said he, pointing to the
other side, “there is a young woman twenty-one years of age, in the last stage
of consumption, and she cannot bear the noise of the traps and footsteps going
over the street, so they have covered the street with chaff that the vehicles
and people may pass by in silence.” I saw through the mystery of the
chaff-covered street at once. The noise of trade was too loud and harsh for the
consumptive young woman to listen to it without being pained; her dying ear
could not bear it. But there is a voice so still and sweet that the dying young
woman could listen to with pleasure--the “still small voice” of Divine love. (R.
Williams.)
God’s whisper
I. What meaning this
parable had for Elijah.
1. It seems to me, first of all, that the Lord would teach him that,
though disappointed, he might still live to purpose, and do good work for God.
2. God would have His servant understand that He is not straitened
for means, and methods, and instruments. Not by a continuation of Carmel’s
triumphs, but by other and simpler means God would carry out His programme.
3. Jehovah would have Elijah remember that his example had
accomplished more than he had supposed.
II. But this parable,
surely, has a bearing towards ourselves.
1. There is this truth, amongst others, that God employs unexpected
means.
2. The folly of relying on outward appearances. Displays of power are
not to be encouraged or rejoiced in. Eloquence, and style, and culture have all
their place. The great forces of nature are silent.
3. God sometimes delays, but makes Himself manifest eventually.
4. Mercy is more potent than judgment. (T. Spurgeon.)
The still small voice
1. This “still small voice,” for us, is both conscience and Jesus. It
is Jesus, acting by His wisdom, and His truth, and His courtesy, and His
gentleness, and righteousness, and holiness, on our conscience. And the “still
small voice” of affection says, “Great is intellect; glorious is the pursuit of
truth, knowledge, discovery; glorious the application of these things in what
we call art! Glorious all that. More beautiful still, more truly human is the
love of a sister for her brother, the love of a mother for her child. Love is
more beautiful than even thought, glorious as thought is.” Does conscience tell
us that this God watches over us, that He acts according to laws? But those
laws are much more manifold than we suspect, much more complicated than we
suspect. It is a west wind blowing, with, I believe, a little south in it. Do
you think that is an accident? It is all the result of law, laws and
influences--antecedents, we may call them-that have been at work for four
thousand and more years before to-day. It is very difficult to ascertain all
those laws; nay, it is humanly possible and impracticable. But God has all
those antecedents in His hand. To speak it reverently, think it reverently,
that Great Mechanic has but to touch some of those remote and complicated links
in the chain of antecedents, or cause and effect, if you like so to call them;
has but to touch some of the higher, more remote, less visible, less
conspicuous, less ascertainable links in the chain of antecedents, and it is
changed; and you shall have, not the west or the south-west, but a northerly or
an easterly wind. Does conscience speak to us of this Great Being, and of Him
as shown to us in Jesus Christ, infinitely and humanely caring for us, and
watching over us.
2. This voice was to Elijah articulate. “What doest thou here,
Elijah? Go, return,” says this voice; “go, return on thy way to the wilderness
of Damascus.” Strange prophet, this Elijah. Strange history, very often
overlooked and not noticed at all. Go back! where to? To Jerusalem? No. Go
back! where to? To the sacred cities of Israel’s kingdom? No. Where to? To the
wilderness. Another wilderness; not this southern one, but far off beyond thine
own Gilead, north of that, east of that, go away to that wilderness, that
belongs to Damascus, the chief city of the Syrian, the Gentile uncircumcised.
Ah, think you God cares not for the uncircumcised, the Syrian, as well as for
the Jew? (J. Macnaught.)
The still small voice
We have to consider how God dealt with His dispirited and truant
child.
I. God spake to
him. In some darksome cave, among those rent precipices, Elijah lodged; and, as
he waited, in lonely musings, the fire burned in his soul. But he had not long
to wait. “Behold, the word of the Lord came unto him.” That word had often come
to him before. It had come to him at Thisbe. It had come to him in Samaria,
after he had given his first message to Ahab. It had come to him when Cherith
was dry. It had come to summon him from the solitudes of Zarephath to the stir
of active life. And now it found him out, and came to him again. There is no
spot on earth so lonely, no cave so deep and dark, that the word of the Lord
cannot discover and come to us. “What doest thou here, Elijah?” How often is
that question put still! when a Christian worker, sorely needed, deserts his
post, because of some unforeseen difficulty, or to secure selfish gratification
and ease; to that couch of indolence, or to that forest glade where soft
breezes blow, the question comes, “what doest thou here?” When one endowed with great
faculties digs a hole in the earth, and buries the God-entrusted talent,
standing idle all the day long among the loungers in the market-place, again
must the inquiry ring out, “What doest thou here?” Life is the time for doing.
The world is a great workshop, in which there is no room for drones. God
Himself worketh as the great Masterbuilder. There is plenty to do. Evil to put
down; good to build up; doubters to be directed; prodigals to be won back;
sinners to be sought, what doest thou here? Up, Christians, leave your caves,
and do! Do not do in order to be saved; but being saved, do!
II. God taught him
by a beautiful natural parable. But in this natural parable God seemed to say:
“My child, thou hast been looking for Me to answer thy prayers with striking
signs and wonders; and because these have not been given in a marked and
permanent form, thou hast thought Me heedless and inactive. But I am not always
to be found in these great visible movements; I love to work gently, softly,
and unperceived; I have been working so; I am working so still; and there are
in Israel, as the results of My quiet gentle ministry, ‘seven thousand, all the
knees which have not bowed unto Baal, and every mouth which hath not kissed
him.’” Yes, and was not the gentle ministry of Elisha, succeeding the stormy
career of his great predecessor, like the “still small voice” after the wind,
the earthquake, and the fire? And is it not probable that more real good was
effected by his unobtrusive life and miracles, than was even wrought by the
splendid deeds of Elijah? We often fall into similar mistakes. When we wish to
promote a revival, we seek to secure large crowds, much evident impression,
powerful preachers; influences comparable to the wind, the earthquake, and the
fire. When these are present, we account that we are secure of having the
presence and power of God. His Spirit descends as the dove, whose wings make no
tremor in the still air. Let us take heart! God may not be working as we
expect; but He is working. If not in the wind, yet in the zephyr. If not in the
earthquake, yet in the heartbreak. If not in the fire, yet in the warmth of
summer. If not in thunder, yet in the “still small voice.” If not in crowds,
yet in lonely hearts; in silent tears; in the broken sobs of penitents; and in
multitudes, who, like the seven thousand of Israel, are unknown as disciples. (F.
B. Meyer, B. A.)
A more excellent way
We find instructive parallels in the lives of Moses and John the
Baptist; or, if we prefer a modem instance, think of Frederick Robertson, one
day preaching to a crowded church in Brighton, the next day grovelling on his
study floor. It is only to the noblest natures that such dejection is possible.
And yet, such despondency was wrong. It was unjust to God. Elijah’s despondency
was unjust to the past. “I am not better than my fathers!” I have failed, so
did they! Why labour any longer? Why tax the overwearied brain? Why continue
the unavailing struggle? Is it worth while to toil like this? Are those for
whom I labour worth it all? So we repine, so we despond. And yet the kingdom of
God is coming amongst us, and the day of the Lord draws nigh. But it concerns
us most of all to know, not the grandeur of this scene, but its real meaning.
What is the truth at the back of this story, and how shall we translate it into
plain words? What is the real meaning of these experiences? It seems to me that
Elijah gained, through them, three things.
1. First, he gained new views of God. The prophet had made a mistake.
He supposed that the fire of Carmel was the only symbol by which God could make
Himself known, that earthquake and thunder and storms were the expression of
His essential nature. Elijah had tried to bend the stubborn wills of men by
methods of force. He never thought of any other way. He magnified God’s
strictness with a zeal he would not own. But in the solitude and silence of
Horeb, he learned the gentleness of God.
2. He gained, in the second place, new views of his work. “What doest
thou here?” The cruelty of Jezebel, the apostasy of Israel, the failure of past
efforts, the uncertainty of the future--none of these, nor all of them
together, were sufficient to justify Elijah in abandoning his duty. God gave
His servant a glimpse of the work yet to be done.
3. Above all, Elijah learned at Horeb a new method of appeal. The
method of coercion had failed, the method of wonder had failed. There was a
better way. Force threats, denunciations will never avail. Men cannot be
frightened into goodness. But where thunder-and-lightning methods have failed,
the gradual, silent, pervasive influence of the faithful seven thousand may
succeed. (A. Moorhouse, M. A.)
The power of silent influence
I. It is a power
which God usually employs to accomplish His work.
1. In the government of the material world. How noiselessly does He
work the great machinery of nature! There is not a sound to be heard. Poets
talk of the “music of the spheres”; but it is a music that has never fallen on
their ears.
2. In the dispensation of Providence. We sometimes imagine we hear
nothing but the stormy wind, or the terrible earthquake, levelling to the
ground all our hopes. The fire of Divine disapprobation seems to rage most
fiercely, and we feel ready to perish. But these are not the chief agents
employed by our Father in the dispensation of His Providence. “After the fire a
still small voice.”
3. In the renovation of the soul. “The wind, the earthquake, and the
fire,” may be used as preparatory means to the great work of conversion. The
influence of the Spirit on the heart is secret, silent, and effective.
II. It is a power
that is productive of the greatest good. It is folly to think that because an
influence is silent it cannot be effective.
1. It awakens thought. The wind, the earthquake, the fire, sometimes
disturb the slumbers of a soul in sin.
2. It operates on the heart. The noisy tempest may affect the
passions, stir up the animal feelings; but it cannot reach the sinner’s heart.
3. It regulates the actions. The very power that impresses the heart,
will also mould and shape the actions of life. It is often remarked that
“example is more powerful than precept.” The reason of this is evident.
III. It is a power
that is lasting in its effects. Why is the power of silent influence so
durable?
1. It is emblematic of the Divine presence. God was not in the awful
tempest which preceded the “still small voice.”
2. It becomes a living element in the new character. The believer in
Christ is a new creature. (J. H. Hughes.)
God heard in the still small voice
I. When god comes
to reprove men for their sins, He usually manifests Himself to them, or
addresses them, not by His works, either of creation or providence, but by a
“still small voice.” Thus it was in the instance before us. You have all known
something of the force of the winds; you have felt your habitations tremble
before the fury of the blast. And not a few of you have witnessed more terrible
proofs of its power on the ocean. You have seen the billows raised into
mountains, and lashed into foam. You have felt the labouring vessel reel under
you, while tossed by a tempest which seemed sufficient to rend the mountains,
and break in pieces the rocks; and you have seen the tempest become a calm.
But, as it respected you, God was not in the wind, nor in the calm which
succeeded. You saw His hand, you heard His voice in neither. If you then heard
Him in anything, it was in a “still small voice” within you. Further, the globe
which we inhabit, though not this particular part of it, has often been
convulsed by the most terrible and desolating earthquakes. Even some parts of
New England have been agitated in a degree sufficient to excite distressing
apprehensions. But have the nations thus visited found God in the earthquake?
Did our fathers find Him there as an instructor and reprover? Far from it.
Never have the survivors been reformed by such events. The earthquakes in New
England did, indeed, occasion a kind of religious panic. A writer, who was then
one of the ministers of Boston, informs us, that immediately after the great
earthquake, as it was called, a great number of his flock came and expressed a
wish to unite themselves with the church. But on conversing with them he could
find no evidence of improvement in their religious views or feelings, no
convictions of their own sinfulness; nothing, in short, but a kind of
superstitious fear, occasioned by a belief that the end of the world was at
hand. All their replies proved that they had not found God in the earthquake.
The same may be said of other means. Ministers may give voice and utterance to
the Bible, which is the Word of God. Like James and John, they may be “sons of
thunder” to impenitent sinners. They may pour forth a tempest of impassioned,
eloquent declamation. Nothing effectual can be done unless God be there, unless
He speaks with His “still small voice.”
II. That when God
speaks to men with this voice, He speaks to them personally, or does, as it
were, call them by name. This He did in the case before us. He addressed the
prophet by his name, Elijah.
III. That, when God
speaks to men in this “still small voice,” He usually begins by turning their
attention upon themselves, their conduct, and situation. He said to the
prophet, “What doest thou here, Elijah?” a question which was most admirably
adapted to convince, reprove, and humble him. (E. Payson, D. D.)
The still small voice
The once triumphant spokesman of the Lord has temporarily lost his
exuberant faith, and is sunk in dark despair. I am free to confess that I
obtain a little comfort even from the prophet’s grief. There is something in
human nature which makes us feel more akin to men who occasionally suffer
defeat. When the Apostle Peter is very bold, daring even death in the presence
of the great ones of the earth, be appears very remote to the child of
hesitancy and doubt; but in the hour of Peter’s weakness, when he shrinks from
the foes that beset him, he becomes one of the common crowd. His impulsiveness
makes even his martyrdom human. Paul’s feelings of wretchedness lend humanness
even to his ecstasies, and his unspeakable visions do not lie in lands too
remote. Now think of this mighty symbolism being portrayed before the
despondent prophet. What would be its significance? Its significance was this,
and he learned the lesson: comparative impotence may roar in the guise of
tempest and fire; Almightiness may move in whispers. Feebleness hides in the
apparently overwhelming; Almightiness hides in apparent impotence. God was in
the weak thing! Elijah left the mount with his conceptions entirely changed. I
think I can see him descending from the place of apocalypse with this thought
filling his life: “The wind is against me, and the earthquake, and the fire,
but what of that? The breathing is with me, and the immeasurable voice of God
is in the wind.” It is well for us to remember that the seemingly feeble, if
the ghostly voice be in it, is transcendently more powerful than the massed
battalions of the ungodly. When I had written these words I looked upon my
study walls, and saw Munkacsy’s great picture, “Christ before Pilate.” There is
a vast, howling, brutal mob, the very incarnation of brutal and irresistible
force. It seems as though the violent crowd can carry all before it. Standing
before the surging, shouting throng is the meek figure of the Master! It seems
as though one hand out of the violent mob could crush Him like a moth! And yet
we now know that in that silent Figure there dwelt the secret of Almightiness,
and the Lord was not in the mob. Some time ago I was in Stirling Castle, and
the guide pointed out to me the field of Bannockburn, and revelled in his
description of the bloody fray. I turned from the contemplation of material
strife, and I saw John Knox’s pulpit! I allowed the two symbols to confront
each other, and they enshrined for me the teaching given to Elijah in the days
of old. The ghostly power suggested by the pulpit was of infinitely greater
import than the carnal power suggested by the battlefield. I remember one day
passing along the road, by the far-stretching works of Messrs. Armstrong, that
vast manufactory of destructive armaments. I was almost awed by the massiveness
of the equipment, and by the terrific issues of their work. Near by I saw a
little Methodist chapel; it could have been put in a small comer of Armstrong’s
works, but it became to me the symbol of the enduring and the eternal! The
ghostly breathing was in the plain little edifice, and the creations of its
ministries will be found when the bristling armaments have crumbled into dust.
Never let us count heads, but let us make sure of God. One man with God is in
the majority. The man on the side of the “still small voice” must become at
last overwhelming. One man in a workshop surrounded by jeering and sneering
mates, moving in an environment altogether invincible to grace, will most
assuredly conquer if he has the companionship of the Holy Ghost. A working man
said to me a little while ago, speaking of the uncongenial character of his
workshop, “I must get out of it!” I told him I was not so sure about that. I
told him that he had chosen Elijah’s way out of the difficulty. I urged him to
believe in the sovereignty of the Almighty, and to remain faithful unto the
end. We can wear down the stoutest antagonist. Our contention may be as silent
as time, but it will be as invincible. (J. H. Jowett, M. A.)
The still small voice
By communion with God must be understood a sense of His presence,
which fills consciousness with a living moral force equal to the work of
regeneration. When it is said that God was not in the storm, the earthquake, or
the fire, we understand that such manifestations of God did not commend
themselves to the judgment of Elijah, as likely to effect the changes he prayed
for. Then God came nearer, and spoke to him as “friend to friend,” which
brought the assurance that the human heart can be reached effectually without
the terrors of Sinai, or the destruction of the prophets of Baal. The
regeneration of man is essentially moral, which can only be accomplished by
moral means--means that will bring God’s “still small voice” into the soul.
I. An answer to
the ever-recurring demand of the church for the marvellous. “What sign showest
thou?” is the oft-repeated question.
II. An answer to
the materialistic tendency of the age. A large class of educated people contend
that the works of nature afford a sufficient scope for the human mind.
Religious exercises, say they, as observed in saying prayers, singing hymns,
listening to sermons, and building churches, abstract the mind from the wonders
of the universe. There never was a greater mistake. How can the voice of God in
the soul hinder the contemplation of His works?
III. An answer to
the distracted saint. Elijah was in need of a special communication from his
God. The earthquake, the storm, and the fire failed to calm his fear. The voice
came to strengthen his faith. (T. Davis, M. A.)
Quiet churches
It is a common error to suppose that a church is dead because it
is not making a noise. Some people would keep up a continued round of
tea-meetings, bazaars, Dorcases, holiday-makings, and trumpet-blowings, and
advertise the same as signs of spiritual life. Some in-judicious man once drew
a distinction between perspiration and inspiration. He must have had his eye
upon the people in question. Spiritual life is generally quiet. There may be
periods of intense excitement, but they cannot last. We should remember that
the river is not deepest where it is noisiest. (J. Parker, D. D.)
Through storm to calm
There are some spirits which must go through a discipline
analogous to that sustained by Elijah. The storm struggle must precede the
“still small voice.” There are minds which must be convulsed with doubt before
they can repose in faith. There are hearts which must be broken with
disappointment before they can rise into hope. Blessed is the man who, when the
tempest has spent its fury, recognises his Father’s voice in its undertone, and
bares his head and bows his knee as Elijah did. To much spirits it seems as if
God had said: “In the still sunshine and ordinary ways of life you cannot meet
Me; but, like Job, in the desolation of the tempest you will see My form and
hear My voice, and know that your Redeemer liveth.” (F. W. Robertson.)
Verse 15
And the Lord said unto him, Go, return.
“Go, return”
It is a very solemn thought, that one sin may for ever, so far as
this world is concerned, wreck our usefulness. It is not always so.
Sometimes--as in the case of the Apostle Peter--the Lord graciously restores,
and re-commissions for His work, the one who might have been counted unfit ever
again to engage in it. “Feed My sheep. Feed My lambs.” But against this one
case we may put three others, in each of which it would seem as if the sentry
angel, who forbade the return of our parents to Paradise, were stationed with
strict injunctions to forbid any return to the former position of noble
service. The first case is that of Moses; the meekest of men; the servant of
the Lord; the foster-nurse of the Jewish nation, whose intercessions saved them
again and again from destruction. Yet because he spake unadvisedly with his lips,
and smote the rock twice, in unbelief and passion, he was compelled to bear the
awful sentence: “Because ye believed Me not, to sanctify Me in the eyes of the
children of Israel, therefore ye shall not bring this congregation into the
land which I have given them.” The second case is that of Saul, the first
ill-fated King of Israel, whose reign opened so auspiciously, as a morning
without clouds, but who soon brought upon himself the sentence of deposition.
Yet it was only for one single act. Alarmed at Samuel’s long delay, and at the
scattering of the people, he intruded rashly into a province from which he was
expressly excluded, and offered the sacrifice with which the Israelites were
wont to prepare for battle. The third case is that of Elijah. He was never
reinstated in quite the position which he had occupied before his fatal flight.
True he was bidden to return on his way, and work was indicated for him to do.
But that work was
the anointing of three men, who were to share amongst them the ministry which
he might have fulfilled if only he had been true to his opportunities and
faithful to his God. God’s work must go on; if not by us, then, through our
failures, by others brought in to supply our place. “Go, return on thy way to
the wilderness of Damascus,” etc.
I. The variety of
God’s instruments. Hazael, King of Syria; Jehu, the rude captain; and Elisha,
the young farmer. It is remarkable how God accomplishes His purposes through
men who only think of working their own wild way. Their sin is not diminished
or condoned because they are executing the designs of Heaven; it still stands
out in all its malignant
deformity. And yet, though they are held accountable for the evil, it is none
the less evident that they do whatsoever God’s hand and God’s counsel
determined before to be done. Joseph comforted his brethren, after his father’s
death, by telling them that though they thought evil against him, God meant it unto good, to save
much people alive.
II. No one can
entirely escape from God’s personal dealings. God’s nets are not all
constructed with the same meshes. Men may escape through some of them; but they
cannot escape through all. If they elude the Gospel ministry, they will be
caught by some earnest worker, apt at personal dealing. If they manage to evade
all contact with the living voice, they may yet be reached by the printed page.
If they evade all religious literature, they may still be the sudden subjects
of the strivings of the Spirit. “Him that escapeth the sword of Hazael shall
Jehu slay; and him that escapeth from the sword of Jehu shall Elisha slay.”
III. God never
overlooks one of His own. Elijah thought that he alone was left as a lover and
worshipper of God. It was a
great mistake. God had many hidden ones. “Yet I have left Me seven thousand in
Israel, all the knees which have not bowed unto Baal, and every mouth which
hath not kissed him.” We know nothing of their names or history. They were
probably unknown in camp or court--obscure, simple-hearted, and humble. Their
only testimony was one long refusal to the solicitations of the foul rites of
idolatry. They groaned and wept in secret; and spake often one to another,
while the Lord hearkened and heard. But they were all known to God, and
enrolled amongst His jewels, and counted as a shepherd tells his sheep. He
cared for them with an infinite solicitude; and it was for their sake that He
raised up the good and gentle Elisha to carry on the nurture and discipline of
their souls. (F. B. Meyer, B. A.)
Return to duty
I. As Elijah
journeyed back through the desert, one of his feelings doubtless would be
this--deep sorrow on account of his past faithlessness, and a salutary sense of
his weakness for the time to come. Every step of that backward journey must
have recalled, with sorrow and shame, the remembrance of his unworthy flight
and unworthy unbelief.
II. Another feeling
Elijah had, in leaving his cave, must have been a lively sense and apprehension
of God’s great mercy. What, in the retrospect of the recent wondrous
manifestation, would more especially linger in the prophet’s recollection? Not
the wind, not the earthquake, not the fire; but the “still small voice.”
III. We may suppose
another feeling entertained by Elijah in departing from his cave and returning
through the wilderness, would be, a fixed purpose and resolution of new and
more devoted obedience. Mourning an unworthy past--penetrated by a lively sense
of Jehovah’s love,--he would go onward and forward, resolved more than ever on
a life of grateful love and of active and unwavering service, until God saw
meet to take him up in His chariot of fire. (J. R. Macduff, D. D.)
Verse 18
Yet I have left Me seven thousand in Israel.
The unknown quantity
We cannot know what a man is merely by what he does. He may be a
painter showing to us his pictures; that sight gives no idea as to whether he
is inwardly beautiful. He may be a tradesman with whom we deal; that does not
tell us whether he is occupying himself with his Lord’s talents until He come.
He may he a mechanic who executes some manual labour for us; that does not
signify if he is labouring for the meat which perisheth, and also for that
which endureth unto everlasting life. We need to get more than a man’s doings
to enable us to perceive what he is. We must learn what his real thoughts are.
“As a man thinketh in his heart, so is he.” We must be able to form clear ideas
of what he likes and dislikes; what he finds fault with in others, and would
fain accomplish by them. In just such a condition we are as regards our
knowledge of God. His works in nature do not inform us of what He is.
I. This unknown
quantity is a provision made by God’s secret operations. “I have left,” or as
we read in the Epistle to the Romans, “I have reserved to Myself seven
thousand.” The Lord thus affirms that their existence in Israel was due to His
own arrangements, that He was carrying out His purposes by other methods than
that which He had consigned to Elijah, and independently of him. The secret of
the Lord s operations may well put shame upon the course taken by so many who
profess to be His appointed servants, setting themselves up as judges, and condemning
to un-covenanted mercies--which mean too often unpitying wishes produced by the
spite of bigoted hearts--those who do not agree with them.
II. This unknown
quantity is an object of constant inspection by God. He knows when and where
their knees are bent; when and where their lips are shaped for a kiss. He sees
what resolutions they have made, and that those resolutions have not been
broken. All and every one in particular are designated by His testimony as His
elected people, even though never ranked with the professed upholders of His
kingdom.
III. This unknown
quantity encourages undefined hopes as to the wide range over which loyalty to
God extends. God wants faithful servants far more than prophets, apostles,
preachers can. The desire for the extension of His kingdom, which moulds their
prayers and efforts, their complaints and despondency, is a desire which is
only a minute output from His measureless yearning. They see Him making the
Gospel His power to the salvation of men, of whom they had lost hope. Slaves,
criminals, cannibals, philosophers lifted up with pride, and ignorant men
dogmatic in their ignorance; men and women, over whom the fetid vapours of
fleshly lusts hung darkly, and little children, scarcely able to tell that evil
soils them, have each and all become known as unyielding props in the earthly
house of the Lord. What ground is available for doubting that He has raised
many more with His wonder-working grace than have come into our notice?
1. An impulse to continuous service of the Lord.
2. The guidance for each soul. It is found in the words of Jesus when
answering the question, “Lord, are there few that be saved?” He made no attempt
at a reply; He sent the questioners into their own consciences, with the
injunction, “Strive to enter in at the strait gate.” (D. G. Watt, M. A.)
The seven thousand
I. We may learn
from this declaration of God to Elijah, in reply to his complaint, never to
take too gloomy or desponding a view of the position and prospects of the
Church. However reduced in number and influence and piety the Church of God
apparently may become;--however feeble the spark, it cannot be quenched;--it
cannot die. The true Israel often and again have been reduced to the lowest
ebb;--the bush burning with fire ready to be consumed; but the living God was
in the bush, and defied the destroying flames.
II. Arising from
the lesson just drawn, and suggested by it, we may further learn to beware of
harsh judgments on our fellow-men and fellow-Christians. There was
unwarrantable self-sufficiency in Elijah--so boldly averring, “I, even I only,
am left!” It was not for him (“the man of like passions”) to make so sweeping
and unqualified an assertion--repudiating the faith of others, and feeling so
confident of his own. The worst phase which self-righteousness can assume, is
when we constitute ourselves religious censors; and on the ground of some
supposed superior sanctity say, with supercilious air, “Stand back, for I am
holier than thou.” Elijah’s feeling has developed itself in modern times in
denominational exclusiveness;--sect unchurching sect. One saying, “I alone am
left.” I alone am “the Church,” because of apostolic descent and sacramental
efficacy. Another, “I only am left,” for congregations around me are asleep,
and mine only has undergone revival and awakening. Nay, nay; hush these
censorious’ thoughts and
hasty party judgments. Who art thou that judgest another? “Who art thou so
ready to spy out the mote in thy brother’s eye, and seest not the beam in thine
own?” There has ever been, and ever shall be, “a hidden Church.” “The kingdom
of God cometh not with observation.” There is often pure gold in the
coarsest-looking ore;--there is often the rarest pebble in the most rugged
rock;--there are often the loveliest flowers in the most tangled brake or
remotest dell.
III. Let us gather
yet another lesson from this comforting assurance of God to Elijah--the
influential power of a great example. Elijah’s feeling was, that he was alone;
that he had toiled, and witnessed, and suffered in vain; that in vain he had
uttered his high behests; borne publicly his testimony to the living Jehovah;
lived his life of faith, and self-denial, and prayer. His saddening thought
was, that he was now going to end a useless, fruitless, purposeless existence;
that, for all he had done in the cause of Divine truth, he might still have
been roaming a freebooter, or pasturing his flocks as a shepherd in his native
Gilead. “Nay,” says God, to this mighty harvest-man, “seven thousand souls have
been reaped mainly by thy sickle.” Wherever there are brave, bold, honest,
upright, God-loving hearts in this world, there is sure to emanate a silent, it
may be, but yet a vast influence for good. “No man liveth to himself.” What may
not a word do!--a solemn advice!--a needed caution! (J. R. Macduff,D.
D.)
Hidden saintship
A consistent saint of God--What do we mean by the word “saint”?
All who are set aside for the Master’s use, who are sanctified and strengthened by His grace to
serve Him, are His saints. What is that life?
I. It is a life of
which the root is hidden, though its fruits, at least in part, may be seen.
II. Saintship is
nourished most in times of depression and of affliction. It is Of such a time
that God is here speaking: “I have seven thousand which have not bowed the knee
to Baal.” (W. Denton, M. A.)
The faithful seven thousand
We learn from these words--
I. That men may be
often deceived with regard to the strength of God’s Church. Many have possessed
a similar feeling to that expressed by Elijah. They have looked upon the
prevalence of sin, in all ranks and conditions of life; they have looked upon
the widespread indifference to religion, and that too in the midst of religious
privilege and effort; and at such a sight their hearts have failed them; they
have thought that the people of God were very few, and they have been tempted
to think that their efforts to increase the number were yam and useless, and
under such temptation many have relinquished their work.
II. That God has a
perfect knowledge of His own people. The children of God may be unable to
recognise each other, especially in times of persecution, which may restrain
men from making an open avowal of their faith. And even in ordinary times there
are many who may not feel called upon to make this avowal, so that their
relation to God remains unknown to those around them. But God sees and knows
them.
III. That God can
keep His people amid the most widespread sin and evil. It is not without reason
that Christian people fear for themselves and for others when sin and evil
abound, and when temptations are numerous and powerful. They know their own
weakness, and they know, too, how many have fallen in the conflict with sin.
IV. That men should
be faithful to their duty, and leave results with God. (T. Cain.)
God’s hidden ones
“A gardener knoweth what roots are in the ground long
before they appear, and what flowers they will produce.” Look over the garden
in winter, and you will not know that there is any preparation for spring; but
the gardener sees in his mind’s eye--here a circle of golden cups, as if set
out for a royal banquet, and there a cluster of snow-white beauties, drooping
with excess of modest purity. His eye knows where the daffodils and anemones
lie asleep, waiting to rise in all their loveliness; and he has learned the
secret of the primroses and the violets, who wait in ambush till the first warm
breath of spring shall bid them reveal themselves. Even thus doth the Lord know
His hidden ones long before the day of their manifestation with Him. He sees
His Church before His ministers see it, and declares concerning heathen
Corinth. “I have much people in this city.” (C. H. Spurgeon.)
Christians unknown to the world
There are stars set in the heavens by the hand of God, whose light
has never reached the eye of man; gems lie deposited in the earth, that have
never yet been discovered by the research of man; flowers which have grown in
blushing beauty before the sun, that have never been seen by the florist; so
there may be Christians made such by God, who are hidden from the knowledge and
eye of the world. (R. Venting.)
Verses 19-21
And found Elisha.
The husbandman of Abel-meholah
I. A marked
characteristic of Elisha was, contentment with his position and willingness to
fulfil its duties, however humble. How few, possessed of gifts, are willing to
wait the call of God; how few, even without gifts, or else who imagine they
have gifts, are willing to wait! It seems to be forgotten that incapacity to
serve God in “a few things,” is evidence of inability to serve Him in many, and
he who cannot make it possible to be faithful in little, may never be entrusted
with that which is great. There is a vast difference between Worship and
service. We serve God in our own houses, having worshipped Him in His house.
Service is work, and work for Him where He places us, not where we place
ourselves. If we cannot or do not serve God in the humble place and in the
daily duties which He has assigned to us, assuredly we never can nor will serve
Him in any other place or circumstances.
II. Equally marked
was Elisha’s readiness to hear the call of God. It is dangerous either to go
before or to lag behind the providence or the call of God. If the Lord has work
for us, He will call us to it. But we must cultivate a spirit of attentive,
prayerful readiness. Not that we expect an audible call from heaven, nor trust
to an inward voice, but that God will so dispose of all things as to make our
duty very plain. For this we must be content to wait; when it comes, we must be
willing to obey and to follow.
III. Another feature
in this narrative is Elisha’s personal willingness to follow the call of God to
its utmost consequences. (A. Edersheim, M,A. , D. D.)
Abel-meholah
There is much in this history to give us encouragement and
direction. Let us linger a while to gather up its lessons.
1. Observe, then, in the first place, the care exercised by God in
securing a constant succession of teachers for His people. He is always
independent of any individual man. Jesus has declared that the gates of the
grave shall not prevail against His Church; and just as, here, Elisha was ready
to take Elijah’s place, it will commonly be found that when one servant of the
Master is removed from earth, or is sent to another field of labour, there has
been, all unconsciously to himself perhaps, and to those around him, another
led, through a course of training, to take the post which has been vacated.
2. Observe, in the second place, here, the honour which God puts upon
industry in one’s common daily work. Elisha was not called while he was engaged
at his private devotions, though, judging of his character from the ready
response which he made at this time, we are warranted in saying that his closet
would not be neglected; but it was while he was following the plough that
Elijah came upon him, and threw his mantle over him. God would thus teach us
that we must not neglect our daily business, and that His rich blessing will
descend upon us while we are serving Him, whether that service be of a
specially devotional sort or of a more common and ordinary description.
3. Observe, in the third place, that special training is needed for
special work. We saw that, for the stem duties which Elijah had to discharge,
he was particularly fitted by the solitude of his early life, and the ragged
grandeur of the scenes in the midst of which he dwelt. Elisha, on the other
hand, was trained for the more peaceful and gentle ministry on which he was
sent, by the home-life of his father’s house, and the quiet influences of
agricultural pursuits. Like many another minister, his first college was his
home; and there, as we are warranted in believing, from the readiness with
which they gave him up to his new work, his parents trained him in the nurture
of the Lord. But this was not the whole of Elisha’s training. For seven years
after the incidents which we have been considering, he was the companion and
friend of Elijah; and so he was under the best of preparatory influences for
his work.
4. Observe, in the fourth place, that God finds use for the distinct
individualities of His servants. There are “diversities of gifts, but the same
Spirit.” All God’s ministers are not made after the same pattern. There are
individual features of character and disposition, as distinctive of each as are
the outlines of the face of each. John is quite different from Peter, and Paul
is distinct from both. What a contrast do we find between Elijah and Elisha!
5. Once more: the conduct of Elisha here furnishes us with a
beautiful example of the spirit and manner in which we should respond to the
call of the Lord Jesus Christ. If we have rightly represented his views as to
the meaning of the act performed by Elijah on him, Elisha must have fully
counted the cost of the step which he was about to take in responding to Jehovah’s call. He
knew that he must leave his home. He knew, also, that with an Ahab on the
throne, a Jezebel in the palace, and an idolatrous population scattered over
the country, the duties of the prophetical office would be not only onerous,
but dangerous. Yet he conferred not with flesh and blood, but promptly and
decidedly arose and went after Elijah. Now, so it ought to be with us and
Christ. (W. M. Taylor, D. D.)
The call of Elisha
We think of the call of Elisha. He was a farmer of Abel-meholah,
in the plain of Jordan. His father’s name (it is all we know of him) was
Shaphat--“the judge.”
I. The Divine call
found him busy at his employment. Our Saviour called into the apostolate
industrious, and not idle, men. Matthew from the customhouse; Peter, Andrew,
John, and James from their work as fishermen; and Nathanael from the great
spiritual labour of earnest prayer beneath the fig-tree; and Paul from his
intended murderous industry as he toiled towards Damascus. It is so in the Old
Testament. Moses was keeping Jethro’s flock when from the bush burning,
unburnt, there sounded the irresistible voice that sent him into one of the
most illustrious pages of all history. The call came to Gideon when he was
threshing wheat; to David, watching his father’s sheep; to Amos, tending
cattle; to Elisha, following the plough. There was a rode sagacity in that
famous king who chased in his homely wanderings the idle loungers from the
street with “Away, sirrah, and take to some work!” who encouraged the
stall-women to have busy hands while waiting for custom, in a compulsory
fashion, indeed; and if they would not be encouraged by his desire packed them
and their stalls away. He would avoid everywhere the various and widespreading
evils of indolence.
II. The Divine call
was unexpected by him. He was sought; he did not seek. God saw him in the rural
obscurity, and challenged him forth into the national recognition and service.
What had been his ambition--what the animating hope of his life? lie feared God
above many, and doubtless desired to be a considerate master, dutiful son, true
friend, the comforter of those cast down, a light at home and in the
neighbouring village. And to think of English instances. How unlikely that a
Huntingdonshire farmer would become England’s noblest monarch, though without
the crown, which he, indeed, could well dispense with. Or in a more recent day,
how unlikely that a young English carpenter would become the apostle of the
Southern Seas, or that a young Scottish gardener would become the apostle of
Southern Africa. Thus God pours contempt upon human judgment, “that, according
as it is written, He that glorieth, let him glory in the Lord.”
III. The call was
one to self-sacrifice and peril. It is clear from the narrative that Elisha was
in easy circumstances. He had servants and much cattle; he was heir to these at
any rate. A quiet, pleasant country life was his--with the great miracle of nature
ever before his eyes--labour in the open field under the blue of heaven, yet “a
life that led melodious days.” A serene man this--moving amid serene
surroundings, looking with contemplative mind upon the lapse of seasons, the
faces of familiar men, and the sacred scrolls of Hebrew Scripture. Brethren,
our call to Christ and Christian service involves some sacrifice. With
reiterated emphasis Christ says that. He has not painted His kingdom in the
colours of fancy. He tells of cross as well as crown; of “much tribulation” as
well as eternal throne.
IV. The call was
acceptable to Elisha. Having cast his mantle upon Elisha, Elijah hastened on
his way. He paused not to expound the call; expositions were to follow. He
would compel no man into perilous companionship with himself. On he went, and
the wondering herdsmen watched. And startled Elisha--for the thing had been
done suddenly--recovers himself.
V. Elisha’s
acceptance of the call was celebrated by a feast. The event was worthy of
celebration. Honour, with whatever peril, had come to him, and brighter than
any crown. The man kindled. He was aglow to be gone. He was henceforth to hold
another plough. He left all--native village, friends, patrimony, parents. With
their kiss and blessing, the feast ended. And comes no call to us?--to Christ,
and then to Christian service? Let us accept it, and then angels will “begin to
be merry,” with a joy never to end! O heavenly celebration! (G. T. Coster.)
Called
From the moment the mantle fell upon him everything was changed.
1. The new life was one of devotion to Elijah. Elisha might have
said, “To me to live is Elijah.” Years afterwards he was known by this title,
“Elisha, that poured water on the hands of Elijah.” And you are called to a
life of devotion to the Lord Jesus. Christ is to be the centre of your life.
The call comes all the more urgently because of the dismay and despair in which
the present century opened. “Arise and live for Jesus; be whole-hearted to make
Jesus King.”
2. The new life was one of separation. He could not cleave to Elijah
without leaving the old home. New interests arose; new duties occupied his
time; new desires and ambitions filled his heart. The old life had to be left
behind; he was completely drawn away from it. And so it is with every true follower
of Christ. Nearness to Christ brings about separation from the world. The
new interests and occupations crowd out the old, just as the young green leaves
of spring push from the branches the dead leaves that had held on through all
the winter storms.
3. The new life was, at the beginning, full of hardship and peril.
Elisha shared in Elijah’s exile. His master was a marked man and a fugitive.
The prophet’s mantle was no robe of state. None but Baal’s priests were
received at court in those days. Elijah had none of the privileges and
protection which a Christian government affords to God’s servants in England.
And for us, too, though we live in better days, there is the cross. It is still
true; “Whoso doth not bear his cross and come after Me, he cannot be My
disciple.” Even to-day, you can evade your cross only by denying your Lord. We
cannot live for ease and riches and pleasure if we follow Christ.
4. And the new life was one of special privilege and power. That
mantle was a sign of both. So is it with all who accept Christ’s mantle. You
shall see God face to face, and share His secrets, standing always in His
presence-chamber, so that you do not fear the wrath of men. (F. S. Webster,
M. A.)
A young man’s call
All the circumstances connected with the call of Elisha,
and Elisha’s answer to the call, would indicate that the young fellow was very
familiar with Elijah and with his ways. The circumstances connected with
Elisha’s call are exceedingly picturesque and interesting. Elijah does not stop
to talk. Instead, passing near the youth, he takes his prophet’s mantle from
his shoulders and throws it about the shoulders of the astonished Elisha, and
strides onward without a word. Now Elisha had evidently had long talks with
Elijah about this matter, and he knew what that mantle meant. He knew just as
well as if Elijah had talked with him for an hour that it meant God’s call to
him, to give up his present order of life and go forth with Elijah, to share
his work and also to share his danger. Elijah appreciates the situation, and he
says, “Go back again: for what have I done to thee?” Canon Liddon says this
ought to be rendered, “Go, return: for how great a thing have I done unto
thee!” That is, Elijah assents to his going to bid his people farewell, but impresses
on his mind that he should speedily return, since a great privilege and a high
honour have been conferred on him by the call of God. The leave-taking is very
beautiful and very significant. Several lessons of great significance may be
drawn from this beautiful story.
1. First, the precious privilege of Elijah in being permitted to be
the instrument in God’s hand of calling so splendid a man as Elisha into the
Lord’s work. Elijah would never have been able to do this if he had not been a
good man. Elisha felt this influence. It was not so much what Elijah said, nor
yet what he did, but constant prayer and communion with God, fellowship with
the Unseen, maintained about Elijah a spiritual atmosphere that had something
of heaven in it. Elisha could not have described it, but he felt it, and when
he was with Elijah, God and goodness and heaven were things the most real in
the world, to please God seemed to be the only good, and to grieve the heart of
God by disobedience seemed to be life s only real danger.
2. We nave here illustrated the right way to receive and answer the
call of God. Elisha responds promptly. He runs after Elijah. He feels there is
no time to lose. Elijah goes with a swift, long stride, and will soon be out of
the field. If he lets him pass away unheeded he may lose the opportunity for
ever, and so he runs after the prophet and assures him of his acceptance. Not
only that, but he proceeds to burn all his bridges behind him. No, he makes it
just as public as he can. He kills his yoke of oxen, and burns up his plough,
and makes a feast of farewell, and boldly proclaims to all his neighbours that
he has been called of God, and that he is going away with Elijah in answer to
that call. And I say to every unconverted man or woman here, That is the only
safe or wise course. God calls you to accept salvation through Jesus Christ and
to serve Christ in your daily life. (L A. Banks, D. D.)
The call of Elisha
I. Among other
practical lessons suggested by the calling of Elisha, let us note the variety
of character among God’s servants. Never were there two individuals more
opposite than these two lights of this age in Israel,--alike in training and in
mental temperament. The one was the rough child of the desert, without recorded
parentage or lineage. His congenial and appropriate home the wilds of
Cherith--the thunder-gloom of Carmel--the shade of the wilderness juniper--the
awful cliffs of Sinai;--a direct messenger of wrath from Heaven--the prophet of
fire! The other is trained and nurtured under the roof of a genial
home--mingling daily in the interchange of domestic affection--loving and
beloved. And there are the same remarkable, the same beautiful diversities, to
this hour, in the Church of Christ. Luther and Knox--the Elijahs of their
times,--had their vocation in preparing the way for the Zwinglis and
Melanchthons--the gentler messengers of peace;--blasting the rocks,--digging
out the rough, unshapely, unhewn block,--to put it into the hands of these more
refined sculptors to polish into shape and beauty.
II. We may gather,
as a second lesson, the honour God puts on the ordinary secular occupations of
life. Elisha is found,--not engaged in temple worship in Jerusalem or Samaria,
not even in meditation and prayer in the retirement of his father’s dwelling,
but at his plough--driving before him his team of oxen. This is another of the
reiterated lessons in Scripture as to the dignity and sacredness of labour, and
the Divine recognition of it.
III. Once
more--observe, in the case of Elisha and his parents, the spirit of joyful
self-sacrifice manifested at the call of duty. Great, undoubtedly, as was the
honour of becoming the consecrated prophet of God;--we cannot think of his
acceptance of the high office, without, at the same time, having suggested the
idea of self-renunciation. What a lesson for us, this abnegation of self for
God and duty. What have we surrendered of our worldly ease, our pleasures, our
money, our children, our advantages, for Him and His cause? What have we done
to disarm the power of besetting sins,by cutting off, like Elisha, the occasion
of them,--saying, “Let oxen, implements, tackling, all go, and perish in the
flames, if they rob our hearts of Christ, or Christ of our hearts”? Matthew
locked the door of his tollhouse behind him: he would never enter it again. The
magicians of Ephesus burnt their magical books that they might never more incur
the risk of being involved in their sorceries. (J. R. Macduff, D. D.)
Elijah passed by him, and
cast his mantle upon him.--
Christian influences
I. How God calls
His workers. When in the seventeenth century one of the famous Cambridge
Platonists, as they were called, passed to his rest, his sorrowful disciples
exclaimed in the very words of Elisha to Elijah, “My father, my father, the
chariot of Israel and the horsemen thereof!” thus expressing their sense of
loss to that communion of the strength which marked their master’s character.
Again and again has God raised up men who, like these Cambridge Platonists,
have reverenced the Divine gift of reason as well as of revelation, who, whilst
they have stood aloof from Church parties and politics, have striven to teach
and to show the character of God the Father, the example of God the Son, the
love and fellowship of God the Holy Spirit, men who have felt sure that no long
roll of years, no fresh discoveries of science could teach for the moment such
a truth as this: “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.”
II. The influence
of good lives. But, further, the call of Elisha came to him, as it came to
Matthew, in his ordinary work, in his farm and in his merchandise, and he was,
let us remember, no longer the same man after it as he was before it.
III. Silent
missionaries. But again, when Elijah passed by Elisha it was certainly a personal
influence, but it was also, so far as we know, and as it has been more than
once noted, it was also a silent influence. And thus the action of the prophet at least
suggests to us the consideration of that silent, impressive, testing influence
by which we are all so closely surrounded. What a remarkable influence, for
instance, attaches to that book so famous in the last century, and so popular
then in England and America, Law’s Serious Call. What a proof of the
unfailing influence which attaches to the outpouring of a saintly and devout
soul is furnished by the mere fact that William Wilberforce, John Wesley,
Samuel Johnson all referred to that one book as the origin of their first
serious impressions upon religion.
IV. The influence
of good books. We come to the impressions which I doubt not have come to us all
in some way or other from the perusal of a popular biography, from a brief
memoir in the newspaper, from our favourite books of devotion. We may indeed be
thankful for these many silent influences. They may be doing, surely are doing,
God’s work in the world. Our eyes have long been fixed, and in the face of
recent events with fresh interest and fresh wonder, upon that marvellous people
of the East, the Japanese. A short time ago an enterprising firm of publishers
in Japan determined to issue a series of historical biographies. The first was
the life of Confucius, the second that of Budda, the third that of Jesus of
Nazareth. The biography of our Lord was edited by a young Japanese student, not
himself a Christian, who wrote it simply as it stood in the Gospels without
offering any opinion of his own as to its truth or falsehood. In a few weeks
the whole of the first edition of that book was exhausted. Here, again, was a
silent influence penetrating where the living voice of the missionary has never
been heard to the quickening intellect and touching the heart. Can we doubt it
that God the Holy Ghost, through the book, leads many to inquire whence hath
this Man wisdom, whence the wondrous works? (R. J. Knowling, D. D.)
Human friendship
The voice in the cave of Horeb said many things; but it said one
thing which, to my mind, was specially helpful to the future development of
Elijah--it directed him where to find a human friend. If there was one thing Elijah
needed to mellow him it was that. He seems never to have felt the influence of
home ties. His life throughout had been one of war, of public commotion, of
political and religious strife. Superiors he had, inferiors he had, but he had
hitherto possessed no equal. There had been none to take his hand and say, “We
are brothers.” A man in such a position is in want of one half of life’s music.
When the voice sent him to Elisha, it sent him to a new school. (George
Matheson.)
.
Verses 19-21
And found Elisha.
The husbandman of Abel-meholah
I. A marked
characteristic of Elisha was, contentment with his position and willingness to
fulfil its duties, however humble. How few, possessed of gifts, are willing to
wait the call of God; how few, even without gifts, or else who imagine they
have gifts, are willing to wait! It seems to be forgotten that incapacity to
serve God in “a few things,” is evidence of inability to serve Him in many, and
he who cannot make it possible to be faithful in little, may never be entrusted
with that which is great. There is a vast difference between Worship and
service. We serve God in our own houses, having worshipped Him in His house.
Service is work, and work for Him where He places us, not where we place
ourselves. If we cannot or do not serve God in the humble place and in the
daily duties which He has assigned to us, assuredly we never can nor will serve
Him in any other place or circumstances.
II. Equally marked
was Elisha’s readiness to hear the call of God. It is dangerous either to go
before or to lag behind the providence or the call of God. If the Lord has work
for us, He will call us to it. But we must cultivate a spirit of attentive,
prayerful readiness. Not that we expect an audible call from heaven, nor trust
to an inward voice, but that God will so dispose of all things as to make our
duty very plain. For this we must be content to wait; when it comes, we must be
willing to obey and to follow.
III. Another feature
in this narrative is Elisha’s personal willingness to follow the call of God to
its utmost consequences. (A. Edersheim, M,A. , D. D.)
Abel-meholah
There is much in this history to give us encouragement and
direction. Let us linger a while to gather up its lessons.
1. Observe, then, in the first place, the care exercised by God in
securing a constant succession of teachers for His people. He is always
independent of any individual man. Jesus has declared that the gates of the
grave shall not prevail against His Church; and just as, here, Elisha was ready
to take Elijah’s place, it will commonly be found that when one servant of the
Master is removed from earth, or is sent to another field of labour, there has
been, all unconsciously to himself perhaps, and to those around him, another
led, through a course of training, to take the post which has been vacated.
2. Observe, in the second place, here, the honour which God puts upon
industry in one’s common daily work. Elisha was not called while he was engaged
at his private devotions, though, judging of his character from the ready
response which he made at this time, we are warranted in saying that his closet
would not be neglected; but it was while he was following the plough that
Elijah came upon him, and threw his mantle over him. God would thus teach us
that we must not neglect our daily business, and that His rich blessing will
descend upon us while we are serving Him, whether that service be of a
specially devotional sort or of a more common and ordinary description.
3. Observe, in the third place, that special training is needed for
special work. We saw that, for the stem duties which Elijah had to discharge,
he was particularly fitted by the solitude of his early life, and the ragged
grandeur of the scenes in the midst of which he dwelt. Elisha, on the other
hand, was trained for the more peaceful and gentle ministry on which he was
sent, by the home-life of his father’s house, and the quiet influences of
agricultural pursuits. Like many another minister, his first college was his
home; and there, as we are warranted in believing, from the readiness with
which they gave him up to his new work, his parents trained him in the nurture
of the Lord. But this was not the whole of Elisha’s training. For seven years
after the incidents which we have been considering, he was the companion and
friend of Elijah; and so he was under the best of preparatory influences for
his work.
4. Observe, in the fourth place, that God finds use for the distinct
individualities of His servants. There are “diversities of gifts, but the same
Spirit.” All God’s ministers are not made after the same pattern. There are
individual features of character and disposition, as distinctive of each as are
the outlines of the face of each. John is quite different from Peter, and Paul
is distinct from both. What a contrast do we find between Elijah and Elisha!
5. Once more: the conduct of Elisha here furnishes us with a
beautiful example of the spirit and manner in which we should respond to the
call of the Lord Jesus Christ. If we have rightly represented his views as to
the meaning of the act performed by Elijah on him, Elisha must have fully
counted the cost of the step which he was about to take in responding to Jehovah’s call. He
knew that he must leave his home. He knew, also, that with an Ahab on the
throne, a Jezebel in the palace, and an idolatrous population scattered over
the country, the duties of the prophetical office would be not only onerous,
but dangerous. Yet he conferred not with flesh and blood, but promptly and
decidedly arose and went after Elijah. Now, so it ought to be with us and
Christ. (W. M. Taylor, D. D.)
The call of Elisha
We think of the call of Elisha. He was a farmer of Abel-meholah,
in the plain of Jordan. His father’s name (it is all we know of him) was
Shaphat--“the judge.”
I. The Divine call
found him busy at his employment. Our Saviour called into the apostolate
industrious, and not idle, men. Matthew from the customhouse; Peter, Andrew,
John, and James from their work as fishermen; and Nathanael from the great
spiritual labour of earnest prayer beneath the fig-tree; and Paul from his
intended murderous industry as he toiled towards Damascus. It is so in the Old
Testament. Moses was keeping Jethro’s flock when from the bush burning,
unburnt, there sounded the irresistible voice that sent him into one of the
most illustrious pages of all history. The call came to Gideon when he was
threshing wheat; to David, watching his father’s sheep; to Amos, tending
cattle; to Elisha, following the plough. There was a rode sagacity in that
famous king who chased in his homely wanderings the idle loungers from the
street with “Away, sirrah, and take to some work!” who encouraged the
stall-women to have busy hands while waiting for custom, in a compulsory
fashion, indeed; and if they would not be encouraged by his desire packed them
and their stalls away. He would avoid everywhere the various and widespreading
evils of indolence.
II. The Divine call
was unexpected by him. He was sought; he did not seek. God saw him in the rural
obscurity, and challenged him forth into the national recognition and service.
What had been his ambition--what the animating hope of his life? lie feared God
above many, and doubtless desired to be a considerate master, dutiful son, true
friend, the comforter of those cast down, a light at home and in the
neighbouring village. And to think of English instances. How unlikely that a
Huntingdonshire farmer would become England’s noblest monarch, though without
the crown, which he, indeed, could well dispense with. Or in a more recent day,
how unlikely that a young English carpenter would become the apostle of the
Southern Seas, or that a young Scottish gardener would become the apostle of
Southern Africa. Thus God pours contempt upon human judgment, “that, according
as it is written, He that glorieth, let him glory in the Lord.”
III. The call was
one to self-sacrifice and peril. It is clear from the narrative that Elisha was
in easy circumstances. He had servants and much cattle; he was heir to these at
any rate. A quiet, pleasant country life was his--with the great miracle of
nature ever before his eyes--labour in the open field under the blue of heaven,
yet “a life that led melodious days.” A serene man this--moving amid serene
surroundings, looking with contemplative mind upon the lapse of seasons, the
faces of familiar men, and the sacred scrolls of Hebrew Scripture. Brethren,
our call to Christ and Christian service involves some sacrifice. With
reiterated emphasis Christ says that. He has not painted His kingdom in the
colours of fancy. He tells of cross as well as crown; of “much tribulation” as
well as eternal throne.
IV. The call was
acceptable to Elisha. Having cast his mantle upon Elisha, Elijah hastened on
his way. He paused not to expound the call; expositions were to follow. He
would compel no man into perilous companionship with himself. On he went, and
the wondering herdsmen watched. And startled Elisha--for the thing had been
done suddenly--recovers himself.
V. Elisha’s
acceptance of the call was celebrated by a feast. The event was worthy of
celebration. Honour, with whatever peril, had come to him, and brighter than
any crown. The man kindled. He was aglow to be gone. He was henceforth to hold
another plough. He left all--native village, friends, patrimony, parents. With
their kiss and blessing, the feast ended. And comes no call to us?--to Christ,
and then to Christian service? Let us accept it, and then angels will “begin to
be merry,” with a joy never to end! O heavenly celebration! (G. T. Coster.)
Called
From the moment the mantle fell upon him everything was changed.
1. The new life was one of devotion to Elijah. Elisha might have
said, “To me to live is Elijah.” Years afterwards he was known by this title,
“Elisha, that poured water on the hands of Elijah.” And you are called to a
life of devotion to the Lord Jesus. Christ is to be the centre of your life.
The call comes all the more urgently because of the dismay and despair in which
the present century opened. “Arise and live for Jesus; be whole-hearted to make
Jesus King.”
2. The new life was one of separation. He could not cleave to Elijah
without leaving the old home. New interests arose; new duties occupied his time;
new desires and ambitions filled his heart. The old life had to be left behind;
he was completely drawn away from it. And so it is with every true follower of
Christ. Nearness to Christ brings about separation from the world. The new
interests and occupations crowd out the old, just as the young green leaves of
spring push from the branches the dead leaves that had held on through all the
winter storms.
3. The new life was, at the beginning, full of hardship and peril.
Elisha shared in Elijah’s exile. His master was a marked man and a fugitive.
The prophet’s mantle was no robe of state. None but Baal’s priests were
received at court in those days. Elijah had none of the privileges and
protection which a Christian government affords to God’s servants in England.
And for us, too, though we live in better days, there is the cross. It is still
true; “Whoso doth not bear his cross and come after Me, he cannot be My
disciple.” Even to-day, you can evade your cross only by denying your Lord. We
cannot live for ease and riches and pleasure if we follow Christ.
4. And the new life was one of special privilege and power. That
mantle was a sign of both. So is it with all who accept Christ’s mantle. You
shall see God face to face, and share His secrets, standing always in His
presence-chamber, so that you do not fear the wrath of men. (F. S. Webster,
M. A.)
A young man’s call
All the circumstances connected with the call of Elisha,
and Elisha’s answer to the call, would indicate that the young fellow was very
familiar with Elijah and with his ways. The circumstances connected with
Elisha’s call are exceedingly picturesque and interesting. Elijah does not stop
to talk. Instead, passing near the youth, he takes his prophet’s mantle from
his shoulders and throws it about the shoulders of the astonished Elisha, and
strides onward without a word. Now Elisha had evidently had long talks with
Elijah about this matter, and he knew what that mantle meant. He knew just as
well as if Elijah had talked with him for an hour that it meant God’s call to
him, to give up his present order of life and go forth with Elijah, to share
his work and also to share his danger. Elijah appreciates the situation, and he
says, “Go back again: for what have I done to thee?” Canon Liddon says this ought
to be rendered, “Go, return: for how great a thing have I done unto thee!” That
is, Elijah assents to his going to bid his people farewell, but impresses on
his mind that he should speedily return, since a great privilege and a high
honour have been conferred on him by the call of God. The leave-taking is very
beautiful and very significant. Several lessons of great significance may be
drawn from this beautiful story.
1. First, the precious privilege of Elijah in being permitted to be
the instrument in God’s hand of calling so splendid a man as Elisha into the
Lord’s work. Elijah would never have been able to do this if he had not been a
good man. Elisha felt this influence. It was not so much what Elijah said, nor
yet what he did, but constant prayer and communion with God, fellowship with
the Unseen, maintained about Elijah a spiritual atmosphere that had something
of heaven in it. Elisha could not have described it, but he felt it, and when
he was with Elijah, God and goodness and heaven were things the most real in
the world, to please God seemed to be the only good, and to grieve the heart of
God by disobedience seemed to be life s only real danger.
2. We nave here illustrated the right way to receive and answer the
call of God. Elisha responds promptly. He runs after Elijah. He feels there is
no time to lose. Elijah goes with a swift, long stride, and will soon be out of
the field. If he lets him pass away unheeded he may lose the opportunity for
ever, and so he runs after the prophet and assures him of his acceptance. Not
only that, but he proceeds to burn all his bridges behind him. No, he makes it
just as public as he can. He kills his yoke of oxen, and burns up his plough,
and makes a feast of farewell, and boldly proclaims to all his neighbours that
he has been called of God, and that he is going away with Elijah in answer to
that call. And I say to every unconverted man or woman here, That is the only
safe or wise course. God calls you to accept salvation through Jesus Christ and
to serve Christ in your daily life. (L A. Banks, D. D.)
The call of Elisha
I. Among other
practical lessons suggested by the calling of Elisha, let us note the variety
of character among God’s servants. Never were there two individuals more
opposite than these two lights of this age in Israel,--alike in training and in
mental temperament. The one was the rough child of the desert, without recorded
parentage or lineage. His congenial and appropriate home the wilds of
Cherith--the thunder-gloom of Carmel--the shade of the wilderness juniper--the
awful cliffs of Sinai;--a direct messenger of wrath from Heaven--the prophet of
fire! The other is trained and nurtured under the roof of a genial
home--mingling daily in the interchange of domestic affection--loving and
beloved. And there are the same remarkable, the same beautiful diversities, to
this hour, in the Church of Christ. Luther and Knox--the Elijahs of their
times,--had their vocation in preparing the way for the Zwinglis and
Melanchthons--the gentler messengers of peace;--blasting the rocks,--digging
out the rough, unshapely, unhewn block,--to put it into the hands of these more
refined sculptors to polish into shape and beauty.
II. We may gather,
as a second lesson, the honour God puts on the ordinary secular occupations of
life. Elisha is found,--not engaged in temple worship in Jerusalem or Samaria,
not even in meditation and prayer in the retirement of his father’s dwelling,
but at his plough--driving before him his team of oxen. This is another of the
reiterated lessons in Scripture as to the dignity and sacredness of labour, and
the Divine recognition of it.
III. Once
more--observe, in the case of Elisha and his parents, the spirit of joyful
self-sacrifice manifested at the call of duty. Great, undoubtedly, as was the
honour of becoming the consecrated prophet of God;--we cannot think of his
acceptance of the high office, without, at the same time, having suggested the
idea of self-renunciation. What a lesson for us, this abnegation of self for
God and duty. What have we surrendered of our worldly ease, our pleasures, our
money, our children, our advantages, for Him and His cause? What have we done
to disarm the power of besetting sins,by cutting off, like Elisha, the occasion
of them,--saying, “Let oxen, implements, tackling, all go, and perish in the
flames, if they rob our hearts of Christ, or Christ of our hearts”? Matthew
locked the door of his tollhouse behind him: he would never enter it again. The
magicians of Ephesus burnt their magical books that they might never more incur
the risk of being involved in their sorceries. (J. R. Macduff, D. D.)
Elijah passed by him, and
cast his mantle upon him.--
Christian influences
I. How God calls
His workers. When in the seventeenth century one of the famous Cambridge
Platonists, as they were called, passed to his rest, his sorrowful disciples
exclaimed in the very words of Elisha to Elijah, “My father, my father, the
chariot of Israel and the horsemen thereof!” thus expressing their sense of
loss to that communion of the strength which marked their master’s character.
Again and again has God raised up men who, like these Cambridge Platonists,
have reverenced the Divine gift of reason as well as of revelation, who, whilst
they have stood aloof from Church parties and politics, have striven to teach
and to show the character of God the Father, the example of God the Son, the
love and fellowship of God the Holy Spirit, men who have felt sure that no long
roll of years, no fresh discoveries of science could teach for the moment such
a truth as this: “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.”
II. The influence
of good lives. But, further, the call of Elisha came to him, as it came to
Matthew, in his ordinary work, in his farm and in his merchandise, and he was,
let us remember, no longer the same man after it as he was before it.
III. Silent
missionaries. But again, when Elijah passed by Elisha it was certainly a
personal influence, but it was also, so far as we know, and as it has been more
than once noted, it was also a silent influence. And thus the action of the prophet at least
suggests to us the consideration of that silent, impressive, testing influence
by which we are all so closely surrounded. What a remarkable influence, for
instance, attaches to that book so famous in the last century, and so popular
then in England and America, Law’s Serious Call. What a proof of the
unfailing influence which attaches to the outpouring of a saintly and devout
soul is furnished by the mere fact that William Wilberforce, John Wesley,
Samuel Johnson all referred to that one book as the origin of their first
serious impressions upon religion.
IV. The influence
of good books. We come to the impressions which I doubt not have come to us all
in some way or other from the perusal of a popular biography, from a brief
memoir in the newspaper, from our favourite books of devotion. We may indeed be
thankful for these many silent influences. They may be doing, surely are doing,
God’s work in the world. Our eyes have long been fixed, and in the face of
recent events with fresh interest and fresh wonder, upon that marvellous people
of the East, the Japanese. A short time ago an enterprising firm of publishers
in Japan determined to issue a series of historical biographies. The first was
the life of Confucius, the second that of Budda, the third that of Jesus of
Nazareth. The biography of our Lord was edited by a young Japanese student, not
himself a Christian, who wrote it simply as it stood in the Gospels without
offering any opinion of his own as to its truth or falsehood. In a few weeks
the whole of the first edition of that book was exhausted. Here, again, was a
silent influence penetrating where the living voice of the missionary has never
been heard to the quickening intellect and touching the heart. Can we doubt it
that God the Holy Ghost, through the book, leads many to inquire whence hath
this Man wisdom, whence the wondrous works? (R. J. Knowling, D. D.)
Human friendship
The voice in the cave of Horeb said many things; but it said one
thing which, to my mind, was specially helpful to the future development of
Elijah--it directed him where to find a human friend. If there was one thing
Elijah needed to mellow him it was that. He seems never to have felt the
influence of home ties. His life throughout had been one of war, of public
commotion, of political and religious strife. Superiors he had, inferiors he
had, but he had hitherto possessed no equal. There had been none to take his
hand and say, “We are brothers.” A man in such a position is in want of one
half of life’s music. When the voice sent him to Elisha, it sent him to a new
school. (George Matheson.)
──《The Biblical Illustrator》