086. Orpha’s Retreat

Orpha’92s Retreat

Rth_1:14 : ’93And they lifted up their voices and wept, and Orpah kissed her mother-in-law, but Ruth clave unto her.’94

Moab was a heathen land. Naomi is about to leave it and go into the land of Bethlehem. She has two daughters-in-law, Ruth and Orpah, who conclude to go with her. Naomi tells them they had better not leave their native land and undertake the hardship of the journey, but they will not be persuaded. They all three start out on their journey. After a while, Naomi, although she highly prized the company of her two daughters-in-law, attempted to again persuade them to go back because of the hardship and self-denial through which they would be obliged to go. Ruth responds in the words from which I once discoursed to you: ’93Entreat me not to leave thee, nor to return from following after thee, for where thou goest I will go, and where thou lodgest I will lodge, thy people shall be my people and thy God my God, where thou diest will I die and there will I be buried, the Lord do so to me and more also, if aught but death part thee and me.’94 Not so with her sister Orpah. Her determination had already been shaken. The length and peril of the journey began to appall her, and she had worshiped the gods of Moab so long that it was hard to give them up. From that point Orpah turned back, the parting being described in the words of my text: ’93And they lifted up their voice and wept again, and Orpah kissed her mother-in-law, but Ruth clave unto her.’94

Learn from this story of Orpah that some of those who did not leave the Moab of their iniquities are persons of fine susceptibility. It was compassion for Naomi in widowhood and sorrow that led Orpah to start with her toward Bethlehem. It was not because of any lack of affection for her that she turned back. We know this from the grief exhibited at parting. I do not know but that she had as much warmth and ardor of nature as Ruth, but she lacked the courage and persistence of her sister-in-law. That there are many with as fine susceptibility as Orpah who will not take up their cross and follow Christ, is a truth which needs but little demonstration. Many of those who have become the followers of Jesus have but little natural impressibility. Grace often takes hold of the hardest heart and the most unlovely character and transforms it. It is a hammer that breaks rocks. In this, Christ often shows his power. It wants but little generalship to conquer a flat country, but might of artillery and heroism to take a fort manned and ready for raking cannonade. The great Captain of our salvation has forced his way into many an armed castle. I doubt not that Christ could have found many a fisherman naturally more noble-hearted than Simon Peter, but there was no one by whose conversion he could more gloriously have magnified his grace. The conversion of a score of Johns would not have illustrated the power of the Holy Ghost as much as the conversion of one Peter. It would have been easier to drive twenty lambs like John into the fold than to tame one lion like Peter. God has often made some of his most efficient servants out of men naturally unimpressionable. As men take stiff and unwieldy timbers, and under huge-handed machinery bend them into the hulk of great ships, thus God has often shaped and bent into his service the most unwieldy natures, while those naturally impressionable are still in their unchanged state.

Oh, how many, like Orpah, have warm affections and yet never become Christians! Like Orpah, they know haw to weep, but they do not know how to pray. Their fineness of feeling leads them into the friendships of the world, but not into communion with God. They can love everybody but him, who is altogether lovely. All other sorrow rends their heart, but they are untouched by the woes of a dying Christ. Good news fills them with excitement, but the glad tidings of great joy and salvation stir not their soul. Anxious to do what is right, yet they rob God. Grateful for the slightest favors, they make no return to him who wrung out the last drop of blood from his heart to deliver them from going down to the pit. They would weep at the door of a prison at the sight of a wicked captive in chains, but have no compassion for their own souls over which Satan, like a grim jailer, holds the lock and key. When repulsive, grasping, unsympathetic natures resist the story of a Saviour’92s love, it does not excite our surprise; but it is among the greatest of wonders that so many who exhibit Orpah’92s susceptibility also exhibit Orpah’92s obduracy. We are not surprised that there is barrenness in a desert, but a strange thing is it that sometimes the Rose of Sharon will not grow in a garden. On a summer morning we are not surprised to find a rock without any dew on it, but if, going among a flock of lilies, we saw in them no glittering drops, we would say, ’93What foul sprite has been robbing these vases?’94 We are not surprised that Herod did not become a Christian, but how strange that the young man Jesus loved for his sweetness of temper should not have loved the Redeemer. Hard-hearted Felix trembled, proud Nebuchadnezzar repented, and cruel Manasseh turned unto the Lord; but many a nature, affectionate and gentle, has fought successfully against divine influences. Many a dove has refused to come in the window of the ark, although finding no rest for the sole of her foot.

Again: The history of Orpah impresses upon me the truth that there are many who make a good starting, but after a while change their minds and turn back. When these three mourners start from their home in Moab there is as much probability that Orpah will reach Bethlehem as that her sister-in-law and her mother-in-law Naomi will arrive there. But while these continue in the journey they commenced, Orpah after a while gets discouraged and turns back. This is the history of many a soul. Perhaps it was during a revival of religion they resolved upon a Christian life, and made preparations to leave Moab. Before that they were indifferent to the sanctuary, and they looked upon churches as necessary evils. The minister almost always preached poor sermons, because they had not the heart to hear them. They thought the bread was not good because their appetite was poor. Religion did very well for invalids and the aged, but they had no desire for it. Suddenly a change came upon their soul. They found that something must be done. Every night there was a thorn in their pillow. There was gall in their wine. They found that their pleasures were only false lights of a swamp that rise out of decay and death. Losing their self-control they were startled by their own prayer, ’93God be merciful to me a sinner.’94 They did not suspect it, but the Holy Ghost was in their soul. Without thinking what they were doing, they brushed the dust off the family Bible. The ground did not feel as firm under them nor did the air seem as bright. They tried to dam back the flood of their emotions, but the attempt failed, and they confessed their anguish of soul before they meant to. The secret was out! They wanted to know what they must do to be saved. With Ruth and Naomi, weeping Orpah started for the land of Bethlehem.

They longed for the Sabbath to come. Straight as an arrow to the mark the sermon struck them. They thought the minister must have heard of their case and was preaching right at them. They thought the sermon was very short, nor did they once coil themselves up in their pew with their eyes shut and head averted with an air of unmoved dignity. They began to pray with an earnestness that astonished themselves and astonished others. Shoving the plane or writing up accounts or walking the street, when you might have thought their mind entirely upon the world, they were saying within themselves: ’93Oh, that I were a Christian!’94 Orpah is fully started on the road to Bethlehem. Christian friends observing the religious anxiety of the awakened soul say, ’93He must certainly be a Christian. There is another soldier in Christ’92s ranks, another sick one has been cured of the leprosy.’94 The observers turn their attention another way; they say, ’93Orpah is safe enough; she has gone to Bethlehem.’94

Starting out for heaven is a very different thing from arriving there. Remember Lot’92s wife. She looked back with longing to the place from which she came, and was destroyed. Half way between Sodom and the city of Refuge that strange storm comes upon her, and its salt and brimstone gather on her garments until they are so stiffened she cannot proceed, nor can she lie down, because of this dreadful wrapping around her garments and limbs; and long after her life has gone she still stands there so covered up by the strange storm that she is called a pillar of salt, as some sailor on ship’92s deck in the wintry tempest stands covered with a mail of ice. Ten thousand times ten thousand men have been destroyed half-way between Sodom and the city of Refuge. Orpah might as well never have started as afterward to turn back. Yet multitudes have walked in her footsteps. Go among those the least interested in sacred things and you will find that they were once out of the land of Moab. Every one of them prayed right heartily and studied their Bibles and frequented the sanctuary, but Lot’92s wife looked back wistfully to Sodom, and Orpah. retreated from the company of Ruth and Naomi. It is an impressive thought that after Orpah had gone so far as actually to look over into the land of Bethlehem she turned back and died in Moab.

Again: Let our subject impress upon us the truth (that those who have once felt it their duty to leave their natural state cannot give up their duty and go back to hardness of heart without a struggle. After Orpah had thoroughly made up her mind to go back to the place from which she started, she went through the sad scene of parting with Ruth and Naomi. My text says, ’93They lifted up their voice and wept.’94 Ah, my hearers, it requires more decision and perseverance to stay away from the kingdom of God than to enter it. Although she did not know it, Orpah passed through a greater struggle in turning back into the land of Moab than would have been necessary to take her clear through to Bethlehem. Suppose you that those persons who have remained in their evil ways have had no struggle? Why, they have been obliged to fight every inch of their way. The road to death is not such easy traveling as some ministers have been accustomed to describe it. From beginning to end it is fighting against the sharp sword of the Spirit. It is climbing over the cross. It is wading through the deep blood of the Son of God. It is scaling mountains of privilege. It is wading through lakes of sorrow. It is breaking over communion tables and baptismal fonts and pulpits and Bibles. It is wedging one’92s self through between pious kindred who stand before and press us back and hold on to us by their prayers even after we have passed them in our headlong downward career. No man ought to think of undertaking to go back into Moab after having come within sight of Bethlehem unless we have a heart that cannot be made to quake, and a sure foot that will not slip among infinite perils, and an arm that can drive back the Son of God, who stands in the center of the broad road spreading out his arms and shouting into the ear of the thoughtless pilgrim, ’93Stop! Stop!’94

We talk about taking up the cross and following Jesus, but that cross is not half so heavy as the burden which the sinner carries. It is a very solemn thing to be a Christian, but it is a more solemn thing not to be a Christian. There are multitudes who, afraid of the self-denials of the Christian, rush into the harder self-denials of the unbelievers. Any yoke but Christ’92s, however tight and galling! Orpah goes back to her idolatries, but she returns weeping; and all who follow her will find the same sorrows. Just in proportion as Gospel advantages have been numerous will be the disturbance of the heart that will not come to Christ. The Bible says, in regard to the place where Christ was buried, ’93In the midst of the garden there was a sepulchre;’94 and in the midst of the most flowery enjoyments of the unpardoned there is a chilliness of death. Although they may pull out the arrows that strike their soul from the Almighty’92s quiver, there remain a sting and a smarting. If men wrench themselves away from Christ they will bear the mark of his hand by which he would have rescued them. The pleasures of the world may give temporary relief from the upbraidings of conscience, but are like stupefying drugs that dull the pain only temporarily. Ahab has a great kingdom, and you would think he ought to be happy with his courtiers and his chariots and palaces; yet he goes to bed sick, because Naboth will not sell him his vineyard. Haman is prime minister of the greatest nation in the world; yet one poor man, who will not bow the head, makes him utterly miserable. Herod monopolizes the most of the world’92s honor, and yet is thrown into a rage because they say a little child is born in Bethlehem who may after a while dispute his authority. Byron conquered the world with his pen, and yet said that he felt more unhappiness from the criticism of the most illiterate reader than he experienced pleasure from the praise of all the talented.

My friends, there is no solid happiness in anything but religion. I care not how bright a home Orpah has in Moab, when she turns away from duty she turns away from peace. Amid the bacchanalia of Belshazzar’92s feast and the glittering of chalices, there always will come out a hand-writing on the wall, the fearfully ominous ’93Tekel,’94 weighed in the balances and found wanting. When you can reap harvests off bare rocks, and gather balm out of nightshade, and make sunlight sleep in the heart of sepulchers, and build a firm house on a rocking billow, then an unpardoned soul can find firm enjoyment amid its transgressions. Then can Orpah go back to Moab without weeping.

Again: This subject teaches that a religious choice and the want of it frequently divide families. Ruth and Orpah and Naomi were tenderly attached. They were all widows, and their lives had been united by a baptism of tears. In the fire of trial their affections had been forged. Together they were so pleasantly united, you can hardly imagine them separated. Yet a fatal line is drawn dividing them from each other, perhaps forever. Naomi cannot live in a heathen country. She must go into Bethlehem, that there among the pious she may worship the true God. Ruth makes a similar choice, but Orpah rebels. ’93And they lifted up their voice and wept again, and Orpah kissed her mother-in-law, but Ruth clave unto her.’94 The history of this family of Elimelech is the history of many families of this day. How often it is that in a circle of relatives, while they look alike and walk alike and talk alike, there is a great difference. Outwardly united in the affectional relations of this life, they are separated in the most important respects. Some now are the children of light, and others the children of darkness. These are alive in Christ, and those are dead in sin. Ruth in the land of Bethlehem, Orpah in Moab. Of the same family are David and Solomon, worshipers of the Most High God, and Adonijah and Absalom, who live and die the enemies of all righteousness. Belonging to the same family were the holy and devout Eli and the reckless Phinehas and Hophni. Jonathan Edwards, the good, and Pierrepont Edwards, the bad, belonged to the same family. Aaron Burr, the dissolute, had a most excellent father. Dying, yet immortal hearer, by the solemnity of the parental and filial and conjugal relation, by the sacredness of the family hearth, by the honor of the family name, by the memory of departed kindred, I point out this parting of Ruth and Orpah.

Again: This subject suggests to me two of the prominent reasons why people refuse the kingdom of Christ. There may have been many other reasons why Orpah left her sister and mother-in-law, and went back home, but there were two reasons which I think were more prominent than the rest. She had been brought up in idolatries. She loved the heathen gods which her ancestors had worshiped, and, though these blocks of wood and stone could not hear, she thought they could hear, and, though they could not see, she thought they could see, and, though they could not feel, she thought they could feel. A new religion had been brought to her attention. She had married a godly man. She must often have heard her mother-in-law talk of the God of Israel. She was so much shaken in her original belief that she concluded to leave her idolatries, but, coming to the margin of the land of Bethlehem, her determination failed her, and speedily she returned to her gods. This is the very reason why multitudes of persons never become Christians. They cannot bear to give up their gods. Business is the American Juggernaut that crushes more men than the car of the Hindoos. To it they say their morning and evening prayers. A little of Christ’92s religion may creep into the Sabbath, but Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday are the days devoted to this American idol. Every hour there is a sacrifice on the altar. Home duties, health of body, manly strength and immortal affections must all burn in this holocaust. Men act as though they could take their bonds and mortgages and saws and axes and trowels and daybooks with them into heaven. There are many who have no unholy thirst for gold, yet who are devoting themselves to their worldly occupations with a ruinous intensity. Men of the stock exchange, men of the yardstick, men of the saw, men of the trowel, men of the day-book, what will become of you, if unforgiven, in the great day when there are no houses to build, and no goods to sell, and no bargains to make? It is possible to devote one’92s self even to a lawful calling until it becomes sinful. There is no excuse on the earth or under the earth for the neglect of our deathless spirit. Lydia was a seller of purple, yet she did not allow her occupation to keep her from becoming a Christian. Daniel was secretary of the State and attorney-general in the empire of Babylon, yet three times a day he found time to pray with his face toward Jerusalem. The man who has no time to attend to religion will have no time to enter heaven.

But there are others who, while their worldly occupation has no particular fascination over them, are entirely absorbed in the gains that come to that occupation. This is the worship of Mammon. The jingle of dollars and cents is the only litany they care for. Though in the last day the earth itself will not be worth a farthing, a heap of ashes scattered in the whirlwind, they are now giving their time and eternity for the acquisition of so much of it as you might at last hold in the hollow of one hand. The American Indian who gave enough land to make a State out of for a string of beads, made a princely bargain compared with the speculation of that man who gains the whole world and loses his own soul. How much comfort do the men take who died unforgiven ten years ago, leaving large fortunes to their heirs? Do they ever come up to count the gold they hoarded or walk through the mansions they built? Though they could have bought an empire, they have not now as much money as you have this moment in your pocket. Solomon looked upon his palace and the grounds surrounding it, pools rimmed with gold, and circling roads along which, at times, rushed his fourteen hundred chariots, while under the outbranching sycamores and cedars walked the apes and peacocks, which by the navy of Hiram had been brought from Tarshish, and from the window curtains with embroidered gold and purple through which came out the thrill of harps and psalteries mingling with the song of the waters. When Solomon saw that all these luxuries of sight and sound had been purchased by his wealth, he broke forth in the exclamation, ’93Money answereth all things.’94 But we cannot receive it as literal. It cannot still the voice of conscience. It cannot drown the sorrows of the soul. It cannot put a bribe in the hand of death. It cannot unlock the gate of heaven. The tower of Siloam fell and killed eighteen of its admirers, but this idol to whose worship the exchanges and banks and custom-houses of the world have been dedicated, will fall and crush to death its thousands. But I cannot enumerate the idolatries to which men give themselves. They are kept by them from a religious life. ’93Ye cannot serve God and Mammon,’94 and the first thing that Christ does when he comes into the temple of the soul is to drive out the exchangers.

But it was not only the gods of Moab that made Orpah leave her sister and mother-in-law and turn back. She doubtless had a dread of the hardship to which they would be exposed on the journey to Bethlehem, and Orpah was not alone in the fear. Doubtless some of you have been appalled and driven back by the self-denials of the Christian life. The taunt of the world, the charge of hypocrisy which they would sometimes be obliged to confront, has kept many away from the land of Bethlehem. They spend their life in counting the cost and, because a Christian life demands so much courage and faith, they dare not begin to build. Perhaps they are courageous in every other respect. They are not timid in presence of any danger except that of trusting in the infinite mercy of Christ. The sheep are more afraid of the shepherd than of the wolves. They shrink away from the presence of Christ as though he were a tyrant rather than a friend who sticketh closer than a brother. They feel more safe in the ranks of the enemy, where they must suffer infinite defeat, than in the army of Christ, which shall be more than conquerors, through him that hath loved them. Men shiver and tremble before religion as though they were commanded to throw their life away, as though it were a surrender of honor and manliness and reason and self-respect and all that is worth keeping.

What has God ever done that his mercy should be doubted? Was there ever a sorrow of his frailest child that he did not pity? Was there ever a soul that he left unhelped in the darkness? Was there ever a martyr that he did not strengthen in the flames? Was there ever a dying man to whose relief he did not come at the cry of ’93Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.’94 Aye, my soul, what has God done that so basely thou hast doubted him? Did he make the whole earth a desert? Are all the skies dark and storm-swept? Is life all sickness? Is the air all plague? Are there nothing but rods and scorpions and furnaces? God knew how many suspicions and unbeliefs men would entertain in regard to him and therefore, after making a multitude of plain and precious promises, he places his hand on his own heart and swears by his own existence: ’93As I live, saith the Lord God, I have no pleasure in the death of him that dieth.’94 Why then fight against God? This day the battle rages. Thou art armed with thy sins, thy ingratitude, thy neglects, and Christ is armed against thee, but his weapons are tears, are dying agonies, are calls of mercy, and the battle-cry which he this day sends over thy soul as he rushes toward thee is ’93save thee from going down to the pit, for I have found a ransom.’94 I would not envy thy victory, O hearer, if thou dost conquer, for what wilt thou do with the weapons thou hast snatched from the armed Redeemer, what with the tears, what with his dying agonies, what with his calls for mercy? Would God that Orpah would get tired of Moab! Would God that Orpah would keep on till she reaches Bethlehem!

Autor: T. De Witt Talmage