039. JOS 24:15: THE CHOICE OF A MASTER

Jos 24:15: The Choice of a Master

Choose you this day whom ye will serve.'97Jos_24:15.

1. This was the farewell charge of the veteran chieftain Joshua to the tribes of Israel gathered together at Shechem. He had watched the childhood of the nation. He had seen a band of fugitives organized into an army, disciplined by adversity, entering at last as a victorious nation on the promised possession. He had watched their religious history, the triumph of the great truth of the One God which they were to hold as a sacred deposit, and hand down to after ages. It was their greatness that to them were committed '93the oracles of God.'94 Yet he had seen them already false to their high mission. He had noted the reappearance of polytheistic ideas, he had seen the return to the Apis-worship of Egypt, he had mourned over the importation of more than one foreign cult. He knew that he was the leader of a chosen people, but of a people chosen not for their own greatness, but for a special duty or vocation in God's world. And he saw that they had not realized their vocation. In the new phase of their history on which they were entering, everything now turned upon a choice. They were at a solemn crisis. God had chosen them for His work; but God's choice is never absolute, never a mere selection for pre-eminence, never a mere display of power, but part of a great purpose which runs through time. To fail to do that work to which God calls is, by that failure, to nullify the choice. It was, then, a matter of life and death for Israel. How would they decide?

2. The place in which that question was asked and answered was full of memories. It was there, tradition said, that the first promise had been made to Abraham: '93Unto thy seed will I give this land'94 (Gen_12:7). It was there, in the valley between Ebal and Gerizim, the mount of cursing and the mount of blessing, that, in obedience to the word of Moses, the Law had been rehearsed. It was there that the embalmed body of Joseph, which they had brought up from Egypt, was to find its final resting-place.

It was fitting that this cradle of the nation should witness their vow, as it witnessed the fulfilment of God's promise. What Plymouth Rock is to one side of the Atlantic, or Hastings Field to the other, Shechem was to Israel. Vows sworn there had a sanctity added by the place. Nor did these remembrances exhaust the appropriateness of the site. The oak, which had waved green above Abram's altar, had looked down on another significant incident in the life of Jacob, when, in preparation for his long journey to Bethel, he had made a clean sweep of the idols of his household, and buried them '93under the oak which was by Shechem'94 (Gen_35:2-4). His very words are quoted by Joshua in his command, in Gen_35:23, and it is impossible to overlook the intention to parallel the two events. The spot which had seen the earlier act of purification from idolatry was for that very reason chosen for the later. It is possible that the same tree at whose roots the idols from beyond the river, which Leah and Rachel had brought, had been buried, was that under which Joshua had set up his memorial stone; and it is possible that the very stone had been part of Abram's altar. But, in any case, the place was sacred by these past manifestations of God and devotions of the fathers, so that we need not wonder that Joshua selected it rather than Shiloh, where the ark was, for the scene of the national oath of obedience.

3. Such were the associations which gathered around them as the multitudes in the valley of decision listened to the words of their great leader; and the charge was a retrospect and a prospect, a review of God's unchanging goodness, and an anxious looking forward to the future. Would the people be true to their mission? God had given them a land for which they did not labour; He had driven the nations out before them. But for what? '93That they might keep his statutes, and observe his laws,'94 that they might be the repositories of the great truth which was to prepare the world for its regeneration, the truth of monotheism which should prepare for Christianity. Would they be true to their vocation? Had they really apprehended that for which they had been apprehended? Would they choose that for which God had chosen them? If not, still they must choose. '93If it seem evil unto you to serve the Lord, choose you this day whom ye will serve.'94 Shall it be the polytheism from which Abraham had been called, or the polytheism of the Amorites among whom they were now dwelling? They might choose their vocation to be the servants of the One True God, or they might choose among the many idolatries in which they might miss their vocation. But choose they must.

It is the critical position to which the prophet Elijah also brought the people. '93How long halt ye between two opinions?'94 How long will you spend your life in inconclusive flirtations? Settle the matter. Make up your minds. '93If the Lord be God, follow him; but if Baal, then follow him. And the people answered him not a word'94; and the timid flirtations went on! And so it is to-day. In spiritual relationships men flirt, but they do not wed; they pay courteous attention, but they do not choose; they give a respectful hearing, but they do not risk an issue. Everything is open, nothing concluded. And so this old-world counsel comes into our modern conditions as counsel which is pertinent to much of our inconsequent and inconclusive life.1 [Note: J. H. Jowett.]

Keeping strictly to the words, '93Choose you this day whom ye will serve,'94 we find four facts contained in them'97

I. All Life is Service.

II. We may choose our Master.

III. There are only Two Masters to choose between.

IV. The Choice is Urgent.

I

All Life is Service

Joshua does not ask the Israelites whether or not they will serve any god. It is taken as a matter of course, and assumed as a fact, that they must serve some acknowledged superior, because it is a part of man's nature to fear and serve a Superior Being, or a Superior Power. It is only '93the fool'94 who '93hath said in his heart, There is no God'94'97one who has utterly rebelled against the better side of human nature, and has crushed out the natural feelings of fear, awe, and reverence. Now this is the statement of an important truth. If men will not serve the Lord, they will nevertheless be the slaves of something'97of Satan'97of sin'97of their own lusts'97or of the riches, pleasures, or cares of this world. It has been well said: '93We have not the liberty to choose whether we will serve or not; all the liberty we have is to choose our master.'94

One often felt about Dr. Rainy the note of the soldier. I remember a fine phrase of his about life: '93We must succeed as soldiers succeed.'94 Soldiers succeed, not by gaining honours and applause, nor, it may be, by gaining even victory. Their success is obedience to the call of duty. Their profession is '93the service.'94 Principal Rainy, even as the Church leader, was always the soldier in '93the service of '93the good cause.'941 [Note: P. Carnegie Simpson, The Life of Principal Rainy, ii. 201.]

It is at once strange and true that there is no state so dear to the highest type of man as that of independence. One of its greatest poetic prophets was Robert Burns, and you will call to mind his words'97

To catch dame Fortune's golden smile,

Assiduous wait upon her;

And gather gear by ev'ry wile

That's justified by honour;

Not for to hide it in a hedge,

Nor for a train attendant;

But for the glorious privilege

Of being independent.

That yearning for independence runs through all his poems, and we regard it as the first and foremost of his manly virtues. Yet, sad irony, it must be confessed that poor Burns was bound hand and foot by a master quite as cruel and despotic as a golden one'97the master of low passions and appetites. But the case of Burns, so far from being solitary, is universal. Men may boast of their independence, and in some particular lines they have a right to do so, still they are servants or slaves of some power.

It is not the spirit of obedience that is wanting in man; he is not only willing to obey, but there is a necessity on him to do so. In his maddest dreams of freedom he enthrals himself to a Marat; in his wildest theory of individual judgment he makes a Pope of Chalmers or Wesley or Canning. Only let a man see what he ought to obey. Here rather is the difficulty. '93I will not obey the Church,'94 says one, '93for the Church does not exercise any power over me; I do not acknowledge its authority; I do not feel its superiority.'94 '93I am not a loyal subject,'94 says another, '93because I know that the Queen is an inexperienced little girl, no wiser than one of my daughters.'94 It is only by attesting their divine mission that institutions can be, or it may be ought to be, obeyed.1 [Note: Lord Houghton, in Life of Monckton Milnes, Lord Houghton, ii. 486.]

Fair is our lot'97O goodly is our heritage!

(Humble ye, my people, and be fearful in your mirth!)

For the Lord our God Most High

He hath made the deep as dry,

He hath smote for us a pathway to the ends of all the Earth!

Yea, though we sinned'97and our rulers went from righteousness'97

Deep in all dishonour though we stained our garments' hem,

Oh, be ye not dismayed,

Though we stumbled and we strayed,

We were led by evil counsellors'97the Lord shall deal with them!

Hold ye the Faith'97the Faith our Fathers seal'e8d us;

Whoring not with visions'97overwise and overstale.

Except ye pay the Lord

Single heart and single sword,

Of your children in their bondage shall He ask them treble-tale!

Keep ye the Law'97be swift in all obedience'97

Clear the land of evil, drive the road and bridge the ford.

Make ye sure to each his own

That he reap where he hath sown;

By the peace among our peoples let men know we serve the Lord!2 [Note: Rudyard Kipling.]

II

We may choose our Master

1. The Bible is full of the recognition of the responsibility of each man for his choice. We go back to the very beginning of the Bible history, and we find that the Eden story all revolves round the ability of the individual to choose for himself. Now you may have any theory of the first chapters of the Bible that you please. You may call the story of Eden a parable or literal history. We shall all be agreed, however, when we recognize that the very central thought of all is that sin came into the world by disobedience, disobedience in point of power to choose in the opposite direction. A little later on we come to the Ten Commandments. A commandment implies that it may be obeyed or disobeyed. Obedience must choose in one direction or choose in another direction.

From the very beginning of the Old Testament to the very end of the New there is a run of invitation, beautiful words, golden words, diamond words; the most glowing words of all the Bible are those words of invitation. But invitation implies a possibility of resistance; if an invitation cannot be resisted it cannot be accepted.

2. A sense of power to choose between good and evil is part and parcel of the primitive consciousness of the race, and the speech of the rudest tribesman implies it. It is stamped upon every language, presupposed in all social systems, and is the sure foundation upon which the earliest and the latest codes of justice rest. It is for many reasons denied in theory by the great majority of the human race, and implied in practice. Fetish-worshipper, Pantheist, Muhammadan, even the Christian has repudiated the doctrine of moral freedom, but the repudiation has been limited to the sphere of religion, and has rarely, if ever, been applied to citizenship. The savage who, if he has any theory of the world, looks upon it as a ghostly despotism against which man, apart from charms, is helpless, forgets his religion of Fate, and deters his child from evil by frowns and encourages him to good by smiles. Every expression of the countenance witnesses to the belief that man moulds himself to vice or virtue. The student of science makes the laboratory or museum his universe, and convinces himself that the power of environment is limitless, and that the human faculties which are supposed to resist or modify it are less than nothing, and he comes forth from his refuge to applaud an act of heroism in the streets, or to scathe with denunciation some foul wrong done to a widow or a little child. The theologian in his study reads Jonathan Edwards on the Will, and convinces himself that the Infinite Sovereignty leaves no room for human freedom in the scheme of things; but he takes up his newspaper and his heart goes with every sentence meted out to a crime.

The soul in its consciousness of freedom repudiates determinism. Man as a moral agent is free'97free to choose, free to think, free to act. Hence the exhortations of Scripture: '93Choose you this day whom ye will serve'94'97'93I have set before you life and death, therefore choose life'94'97'93Abhor that which is evil; cleave to that which is good.'94 Power of choice implies free will and therefore responsibility. Christ in addressing men always assumed their freedom of choice'97'93Follow me'94'97'93Come unto me'94'97'93Ye will not come to me, that ye might have life.'94 And the Apostolic injunction,'94 Quench not the Spirit,'94 has no meaning unless we are able to do so. Our destiny is thus largely, if not wholly, in our own hands. '93I can'97I ought'97I will.'94 We are not feathers in the wind, or straws on the stream, but men with souls and wills and consciences, and as men we fix our destiny by our character, and we fix our character by our actions.1 [Note: D. Watson, The Heritage of Youth, 35.]

The will in man, like some small independent nation, such as Switzerland or Holland, seems to maintain itself by means of great toil and effort. Bordered on all sides by strong encroaching nations, which threaten to absorb its very life within them, and menaced by a rude unfriendly nature, with which it must keep up a constant war, it yet continues, by the very fact of its existence, to utter a protest for man's inviolable right of freedom. Often must the will exclaim'97

Oh, mother Nature, broad indeed thy feast,

Widespread thy table, pasture for the beast

And death to man, most like the fruit whose thin

Smooth shining golden rind shows fair within

Its crimson gleaming seeds deep-hearted hid

Harmful, whereon, a harmless guest unbid,

The sweet bird feeds.2 [Note: Dora Greenwell, Liber Humanitatis, 66.]

Henry Ward Beecher's father, old Dr. Lyman Beecher, was quite as remarkable as his distinguished son and his distinguished daughter, Harriet Beecher Stowe. One day Dr. Lyman Beecher had an exchange with a Methodist brother. Dr. Beecher believed in fore-ordination. The two men met on a hillside, each going to his place of worship, according to the way that was common in those days, riding his own horse. '93Now,'94 said Dr. Beecher, '93you see my doctrine is right, you see that it was fore-ordained from the foundation of the world that we should make this exchange, and we have met here on the crest of this hill, you going to my church and I going to your church.'94 '93Very well,'94 said the Methodist preacher, '93if it was fore-ordained from the foundation of the world that we were to make this exchange, I will break the fore-ordination,'94 and he deliberately turned round and went back to his own church. Now that seems to be only toying with a profound and very perplexing principle, but underneath we come to this very simple fact, that every man must be loyal to his own conscience, and when we are discussing the fact as to whether we have the power to choose or not we get back to this, '93I know I could have done differently.'94

3. Religion, no less than the other interests to which we give ourselves in life, is the subject-matter of human choice. We sometimes look upon it as pre-determined by language, climate, tradition, and ancestry. Max M'fcller speaks as though the idolatry of the Aryans grew out of their habits of speech. St. Paul perhaps displays a deeper insight into human nature when he looks upon idolatry as the product of fatuous and evil acts of choice.

The best religion is always that which men, after due inquiry and full counsel with their own consciences, choose for themselves. It has greater binding power than a religion which is merely prescribed. It is true even in common things that, after we have reached years of maturity, the best decisions are the dispassionate decisions we make for ourselves. The choice other people may make for us is of passing value only, and cannot command us like the choice we make in the exercise of our just personal liberty. Genuine religion begins with the exercise of individual judgment, although of course that judgment, when once formed, must ally itself with kindred judgments in the community and so acquire accumulative intenseness.

I think full vision prevents the exercise of choice between good and evil, and the fact of our being conscious of a power to choose between the two shows that we are in the dark'97we could not choose evil if we really saw it to be only evil. In the case of a temptation, the very force of the temptation lies in the fact that the thing does appear good, pleasant to look upon, and likely to advance our knowledge. I would venture to suggest that you should criticize your notion of choice under the remembrance of the conditions in which we start and move in this existence. '93Consent,'94 I think, is a better word than '93choice'94 in relation to man's so-called '93free will.'94 True, when we are standing in the natural or old Adam, it seems a choice to us; but when we come to stand in the spiritual or new Adam, we discover that our free will is not exercised in the way of choice as between two alternatives, but in the free consent to the Will of God that it is '93good and acceptable and perfect.'94 I incline to think that in the distinction between the natural and spiritual perceptions the solution of the perplexity will be found in the question of so-called free will.1 [Note: Letters from a Mystic of the Present Day, 10.]

Still will we trust, though earth seem dark and dreary,

And the heart faint beneath His chastening rod,

Though rough and steep our pathway, worn and weary,

Still will we trust in God!

Our eyes see dimly till by faith anointed,

And our blind choosing brings us grief and pain;

Through Him alone, who hath our way appointed,

We find our peace again.

Choose for us, God, nor let our weak preferring

Cheat our poor souls of good Thou hast designed:

Choose for us, God! Thy wisdom is unerring,

And we are fools and blind.

So from our sky the night shall furl her shadows,

And day pour gladness through her golden gates;

Our rough path lead to flower-enamelled meadows,

Where joy our coming waits.

Let us press on: in patient self-denial,

Accept the hardship, shrink not from the loss;

Our guerdon lies beyond the hour of trial,

Our crown beyond the cross.2 [Note: W. H. Burleigh.]

III

There are only Two Masters to choose between

1. God will accept no divided allegiance. He will have from us all or nothing in the way of service. '93No man,'94 says our Lord, '93can serve two masters'94 (Mat_6:24). The alternative, as Joshua put it to Israel, was between the One True God and some of the many false gods of that age; the alternative for us, in the matter of service, is between sin and Christ. Our choice lies between these two only. Servants to the one or the other we must be.

Thou canst not choose but serve; man's lot is servitude;

But this of choice thou hast, a bad lord or a good.1 [Note: Archbishop Trench.]

We may engage in a thousand pursuits. There is always one of two great ruling principles which guides our thoughts, words, and actions, and gives a distinct and peculiar colouring to our whole life. And it is from these two dominating powers that we have to choose'97God or the devil, the love of virtue or the love of vice.

I remember so well, soon after my conversion, the exercise of mind I went through in 1844. I was ambitious and determined to get on in my profession, and I felt the three or four seasons of reading and prayer that I had set aside each day were a great hindrance to me in the way of military studies, and that if my mind was always so full of religious thought and reading I could not hope to make a name for myself. So the question came plainly before my mind, '93Shall I choose to live to God, and keep up all this reading and prayer (which I felt needful because of my sinful, unruly heart), or lessen these exercises and apply myself to get on in the service?'94 I have never regretted the choice God helped me to make, and I believe He gave me great blessing in consequence, and has not even allowed me to fall behind my contemporaries in a professional point of view, but, as you know, has always prospered me in my work, and preserved me through perils.2 [Note: Sir John Field, Jottings from an Indian Journal, 127.]

Many lives which reach different goals start together in the closest intimacy. The characters of two lads, who are side by side in the same home or in the same school, are akin, and there is no apparent reason why they should not have the same value in the world. The possibilities, humanly speaking, are interchangeable. They sing from the same book, bow in prayer on the same hearth-stone, and show the same susceptibility to good impressions. For years their lives run parallel in the same church, the same business house, the same city. But after a while they get more or less apart. One is strict, conscientious, diligent in good works. The other loves society, grows lax in his habits, neglects the house of God. Their sympathies flow in diametrically opposed channels. One pours out his life on a foreign soil in the service of the Cross; the other dies on the scaffold or in a convict prison.1 [Note: T. G. Selby.]

The river Amazon and the chief tributary of the river Plate rise within a few hundred yards of each other, and the Indians often drag their canoes from one stream to the other over the intervening strip of land. For many miles the little rivers run in parallel channels, and it often seems as though they might unite into one. At last a little knoll or ridge is reached, and the waterways diverge. It is difficult to judge what issues are involved in this turning-point, for it gives complexion to the entire map of South America, and it has put the stamp of destiny upon some great empires. These two rivers never come within sight of each other again, and empty themselves into the sea more than a thousand miles apart.

2. One may say, '93I do not know on whose side I am, it is so difficult to tell what is truth and what is false.'94 But we are not required to settle difficult questions in casuistry: we are asked to take a side when we see that there are two sides and only one of them can be taken. It is not a choice of the intellect; it is a choice of the will.

Of course there are problems the elements of which have not been formulated, and to which, for the present, a simple Aye or No is impossible. But these are not questions that touch the heart of salvation. We live, it is true, in perplexing times, but much of our unsettlement is due, not to the conflict between religion and science, faith and criticism, but to personal indecision. Alternatives are put before us which enlist the passions on the one hand and the conscience on the other, and it is for us to select between them. Faith is sometimes looked upon as though it were the product of a peculiar inspiration acting upon the finer sensibilities of a passive nature. It must be swept into men by a tidal wave of supreme emotion. Devout fatalists sit on the shore waiting till the phenomenon appears. It is pleasant to believe when the flowing tide is with us, but we must not forget the part we ourselves have to play.

It were not hard, we think, to serve Him,

If we could only see;

If He would stand with that gaze intense

Burning into our bodily sense,

If we might look on that face most tender,

The brow where the scars are turned to splendour,

Might catch the light of His smile so sweet,

And view the marks in His hands and feet,

How loyal we should be!

It were not hard, we think, to serve Him,

If we could only see!

It were not hard, He says, to see Him,

If we would only serve;

'93He that doeth the will of Heaven,

To him shall knowledge and sight be given!'94

While for His presence we sit repining,

Never we see His countenance shining;

They who toil where His reapers be,

The glow of His smile may always see,

And their faith can never swerve.

It were not hard, He says, to see Him,

If we would only serve.

I could not tell you too strongly my own deep and deepening conviction that the truths which I teach are true. Every year they shed fresh light on one another, and seem to stretch into immensity. They explain to me life, God, and the Bible; and I am certain that what fresh light I shall receive will be an expansion and not a contradiction of what I have. As for the words in which I try to make others see what I see, they are indeed poor and bewildered enough. But there is no bewilderment in my mind, though much that is incomplete. The principles are rooted in human nature, God, and the being of things, and I find them at the root of every page in Scripture. The principles cannot be reversed. My mind has grown by a regular development year by year, and I could as easily doubt my own existence as doubt those truths which have grown with my growth, and strengthened with my strength. They are not opinions nor theories, but convictions'97part of my being, of my habits of thought and life'97colouring everything, '93the fountain light of all my day, the master light of all my seeing.'94 These are the truths for which men go to the stake, and relinquish, joyfully, friends, sympathy, good name, worldly prospects. They do not depend upon the accuracy of an intellectual process, but upon the verdict of all the highest powers of soul. For instance, I would not give up a single thing on the certainty that St. Paul did not write the Epistle to the Hebrews. These are matters of intellectual investigation, and I am not sure that I am right, because I am neither certain that all the evidence is before me, nor that I have rightly judged from the evidence. But if I am asked to surrender convictions, I cannot do it for any reward, nor for fear of any loss; these depend upon all I know of God; they are the things seen in the noonday light of my soul; and I cannot pretend to submit my judgment in such things to wiser men or better men. It would be mock humility. I might just as readily, at their bidding, say that green is scarlet. It may be so; but if it be, my whole vision is deranged by which I have walked and lived, and by which this world is beautiful. To say that I am ready for any martyrdom in the defence of my convictions, and that I cannot affect to have doubts or misgivings about them, is only to say that they are convictions.1 [Note: F. W. Robertson, in Life and Letters, 368.]

And they serve men austerely,

After their own genius, clearly,

Without a false humility;

For this is Love's nobility,'97

Not to scatter bread and gold,

Goods and raiment bought and sold;

But to hold fast his simple sense,

And speak the speech of innocence,

And with hand and body and blood,

To make his bosom-counsel good.

He that feeds men serveth few;

He serves all who dares be true.2 [Note: Emerson.]

When Judas, knowing the Christ to be innocent, dared to sell Him to the Jews for thirty pieces of silver; when the Bishop of Beauvais, knowing Joan of Arc to be innocent, sold her to the English for 'a32400'97there is no doubt as to the choice these men had made. When the constituents of James A. Garfield wished him to vote in the American Senate contrary to the dictates of his conscience, and when Garfield stood before them and said: '93Gentlemen, if I become your representative, it must be because your opinions coincide with mine, and not because I have pared mine down into similarity with yours; I must obey the dictates of my conscience; for obedience to its voice I am responsible to God, and I must not, I dare not, muffle its teachings, bury my beliefs, or cover my convictions'94'97you will have no hesitation in saying which side he had chosen. There is little difficulty in deciding as to whom you serve.1 [Note: G. H. Morgan.]

3. With the people to whom these words were addressed the issue was very simple'97Will you follow the gods of the nations, or will you follow Jehovah your God? The problem is slightly different to-day, but it is the same old problem, and to us, as to those people, rings out the message, '93Choose you this day whom ye will serve'94! Shall it be a life spent in the service of self or in the service of humanity? It is not possible to serve God without serving man; it is not possible to worship God without serving man. There never was a prayer offered to God when the heart was at enmity with man. There is no knowledge of God which does not come through man. That is the principle of the incarnation, and, therefore, when we are to choose the service of God, we mean by that the service of man, because God cannot be served and man neglected. If we love not our brother whom we have seen, how can we love God whom we have not seen? Shall our lives be given to Christ and to humanity, or shall they be given to self and to sin?

If I can stop one heart from breaking,

I shall not live in vain;

If I can ease one life the aching,

Or cool one pain,

Or help one fainting robin

Unto his nest again,

I shall not live in vain.2 [Note: Emily Dickinson.]

IV

The Choice is Urgent

1. It is urgent because it has to be made now.'97'93Choose you this day.'94 All our decisions are instant; the processes leading up to decision may be very slow, but the decisions are all instant. A boat changes its course in an instant. It may have been a long time getting ready to make the change, but the change in the course is always instantaneously made. A man is seen to have made a change; it has been growing through long years, but the real change has been instantaneous.

You cannot run away from a weakness; you must some time fight it out or perish; and if that be so, why not now, and where you stand?1 [Note: R. L. Stevenson, The Amateur Emigrant.]

It was at the beginning of these somewhat reckless years that I came to the great decision of my life. I remember it well. Our Sunday-School class had been held in the vestry as usual. The lesson was finished, and we had marched back into the chapel to sing, answer questions, and to listen to a short address. I was sitting at the head of the seat, and can even now see Mr. Meikle taking from his breast-pocket a copy of the United Presbyterian Record, and hear him say that he was going to read an interesting letter to us from a missionary in Fiji. The letter was read. It spoke of cannibalism, and of the power of the Gospel, and at the close of the reading, looking over his spectacles, and with wet eyes, he said, '93I wonder if there is a boy here this afternoon who will yet become a missionary, and by and by bring the Gospel to cannibals?'94 And the response of my heart was, '93Yes, God helping me, I will.'94 So impressed was I that I spoke to no one, but went right away towards home. The impression became greater the farther I went, until I got to the bridge over the Aray above the mill, and near to the Black Bull. There I went over the wall attached to the bridge, and kneeling down prayed God to accept me, and to make me a missionary to the heathen.2 [Note: James Chalmers, Autobiography and Letters, 23.]

Ere another step I take

In my wilful wandering way,

Still I have a choice to make'97

Shall I alter while I may?

Patient love is waiting still

In my Saviour's heart for me:

Love to bend my froward will,

Love to make me really free.

Far from Him, what can I gain?

Want and shame and bondage vile'97

Better far to bear the pain

Of His yoke a little while.1 [Note: A. L. Waring.]

2. It is urgent because it is for eternity.'97Every choice, says the great German philosopher poet, is for eternity. Yet men often realize that only when it is too late. They have let everything go by default. They are in theory Christians; they imagine that they have taken sides; but when the moment of choice comes, when the temptation is at hand, they shrink from the effort of decision for God, and they give way to evil. Then the momentum of that false choice carries them further. It is not merely that, by the law of habit, acts tend to reproduce themselves. That is true, and it is true of good as well as of evil acts. But every choice has a twofold consequence. It reacts upon the conscience and it reacts upon the will. To choose the higher is to give definiteness and precision and a diviner insight to the conscience, even while it gives to the will new power to be free. But the conscience, once silenced, speaks in a lower tone, judges less certainly and less truly; and the will, in that its wilfulness opposed itself and chose the lower line, is weaker by the act, and has so far lost its freedom. For the freedom of the will, which we vaguely talk about, is a freedom to be won; the Divine light of conscience is at first a spark that may be quenched or kindled. The perfect freedom that can choose God, the perfect light that reveals Him,'97these belong only to the Perfect Man '93who knew no sin.'94

Heard are the voices,

Heard are the sage's,

The world's, and the age's.

Choose well: your choice is

Brief and yet endless.2 [Note: Goethe, translated by Carlyle.]

Literature

Girdlestone (A. G.), The Way, the Truth, the Life, No. 6.

Hughes (H. P.), The Philanthropy of God, 45.

Jowett (J. H.), The Transfigured Church, 253.

Moore (A. L.), The Message of the Gospel, 143.

Price (A. C.), Fifty Sermons, xi. 193.

Salmond (C. A.), For Days of Youth, 189.

Selby (T. G.), The God of the Patriarchs, 273.

Stewart (J.), Outlines of Discourses, 153.

British Congregationalist, June 11, 1908 (Jowett).

Christian World Pulpit, xiv. 309 (Anderson); xviii. 219 (Vaughan); xliv. 104 (Bradford).

Church of England Pulpit, xvii. 88 (Coleman).

Church Pulpit Year Book, iv. (1907) 128.

Churchman's Pulpit: First Sunday after Trinity, ix. 447 (Alford); Sermons to the Young, xvi. 289 (Soans).

Homiletic Review, xvii. 343 (Hoyt).

Preacher's Magazine, xiv. (1903) 86 (Smith).

Autor: JAMES HASTINGS