Chapter 4

He who is too holy to work for others will soon step to the lower path. The willing soul will ever be crying, 'Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do?' and the answer will come, 'Do this, do that, come here, go there'.

The way of Holiness is not free from temptation and suffering; but, thank God, it can be _the way of victory and safety_.

Even the ordinary workaday life is full of circumstances which try and tempt and test you. The more you struggle towards living in God's way the more the Devil will attack you. The path which the holy Saviour trod was the way of the cross, and they who follow Him must share the cross-bearing. The ultimate crown is for the overcomer, and not for the untempted one.

_Christ leads us through no darker rooms Than He went through before; He who into God's Kingdom comes Must enter by this door._

There is no crown without a previous cross; but with trials and temptations comes the way of escape and victory, 'these light afflictions ... work out an exceeding weight of glory'. The Book says, 'All who will live godly ... shall suffer persecution'. And this will be specially so with those who openly profess and live on the lines of a Full Salvation.

Here is a page from the personal experience of one who was determined to walk the King's highway:--

'Perfect love', he says, 'will not go long untested. For a time I was not called to suffer distinctly for Christ from that hostile spirit which nailed Him to the cross. The lion, however, was not dead, but asleep, and presently he awoke and glared at me. My soul was calm as a summer's evening. When it pleased the Blessed Master that I should suffer reproach and vilification for my testimony, then it was that the river of joy which flows from the Throne flowed through my heart as never before. It was a new experience--a quintessence of joy. The shouts of burning martyrs were no longer a mystery. I stagger no more at the account of the saints who took joyfully the spoiling of their goods. My soul is bathed in an ocean of balm and ineffable joy.'

4. But I spoke also of _the safety_ of the way of Holiness. I must speak of that more fully another time, but what I mean is this: So long as you have the remains of sin in your heart you are exposed to a double danger--the enemy without and the responding traitor within. One reason why religion is so unsatisfactory to some people is that they persist in walking on the low level where doubts often spoil their worship and the allurements of the world pull very hard, and its siren song makes discord in their hallelujahs. It is, of course, possible to backslide from any level; but, believe me, the prospect of stability is infinitely greater if you get a clean heart, and determine to walk in the pathway of the holy.

In closing, let me quote a short prayer. David cried: 'Search me, O God, and know my heart; try me, and know my thoughts: see if there be any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting'. If, in sincerity and simplicity of intention to follow Christ fully, you offer that prayer, God will not only lead you along the way, but to the Home of the holy.

There are, however, two little notes which you should compare in this connexion. One refers to the passage now before us, 'The way of Holiness'. It is said, 'The unclean shall not pass over it'. The other refers to Heaven, and says, 'There shall in no wise enter any thing that defileth or maketh a lie'. By connecting these two you see that you need to be not only led along the heavenly way, but to be made fit for the heavenly courts; and David's prayer, sincerely offered, brings that fitness--that purity of heart which sees God and delights in the completion of His holy will.

VIII

Circumstances and Consequences

'_And fears shall be in the way._' (Ecclesiastes xii. 5.)

The man who wrote these words was specially emphasizing the importance of settling one's relationships to the great Creator before the coming of days when infirmities increase, and decay of natural powers sets in. The practical outcome of that thought is, that postponement only adds to one's difficulties when the battle really has to be fought.

Amongst those difficulties the sacred writer places that natural foreboding, physical shrinking and hesitation which paralyse men when, after lives spent in sin and selfish indulgence, they desire to make their peace with God; for, says he, 'They shall be afraid of that which is high, and _fears shall be in the way_'. The imaginary obstacles which arise in people's minds, seeming to make holy living impossible, are varied in character, but I see that many are influenced by fears and feelings concerning things which I class under the headings of 'Circumstances and Consequences'.

How often, when giving earnest advice, one gets the response, 'My circumstances are against me', 'Placed as I am, it cannot be', or 'The consequences are too serious', 'The price of the blessing is too high'. Even with persons who have no doubt as to the possibility of a clean heart and sanctification of life, these thoughts operate; and we find the fear of circumstances hindering one, and the fear of consequences influencing another, so that they are held back from definitely seeking the blessing. True, in many instances, the idea is a delusion, a snare of the Devil, by which souls are kept out of God's Full Salvation; but, there is the fact--'fears are in the way'.

Fear is like a great magnifying-glass; or one of those mirrors which give a distorted image of things reflected in them. This effect is often produced in persons both as regards their own circumstances and the consequences of following the leadings of God's Spirit.

You may remember how Bunyan, in his 'Pilgrim's Progress', represents Christian desiring to enter the House Beautiful, but suddenly he espied two lions in the way, and was almost frightened out of his purpose until some one told him that, if he went boldly on, and kept in the middle of the path, he need not fear, seeing the lions were securely chained. What an illustration of the quaking fears which hinder definite action in regard to spiritual blessings!

1. A few words as to _circumstances_ may be helpful to some one. Let me, however, first make one thing clear. With some people circumstances exist which are insurmountable barriers; there are positions in the world which could not be held by a fully sanctified person any more than fire can be carried in a man's bosom and he not be burned; situations involving the practice of evil or resulting in gain through the unjust sufferings of others. Such positions must be given up, if men wish to enjoy God's sanctifying power. I am not, however, dealing now with such positions or the circumstances connected with them; I am referring to circumstances or conditions of life which are lawful in themselves and in the light of the Word of God, but which may present difficulties and involve serious trial to those determined to live purely and serve God faithfully.

The fear in some instances is that if they obtain the blessing the strain of temptation would be such as to render a fall probable. 'I could not _keep_ the blessing if I got it'; 'If I could change my position, or surroundings, or connexions, then I would take the necessary steps'. These are words we frequently hear. A married man or woman says, 'Ah! if only I were single, then I could live a life of full consecration'. With equal seriousness the single person says, 'Ah! if only I were married, then the life of purity and Holiness would be possible to me'. The mother, fearful about the strain which the care of the children brings, often speaks in the same way. So it is with business relationships and many other matters in which the circumstances are presented as things making Holiness an impossibility.

When I was a young man in business I yearned for a position in which I could be separate from all worldly entanglements, so that I could obtain and enjoy the blessing. But, do you know, since I have been a Salvation Army Officer, I have often been tempted to think that the sanctified life is easier in the circumstances of commercial life, and that if I was so placed the spiritual things would be more appreciated, and I should be able to live nearer to God. You see, it is the same old temptation, 'My circumstances, my conditions of life, my work, my home', and the fear of these things often becomes a snare.

That is a pathetic picture which the Psalmist gives us of these poor Jews by the waters of Babylon, who, when urged to sing the songs of Zion, answered, 'How shall we sing the Lord's songs in a strange land?' Is not that the feeling which bursts from many lips and many more hearts, 'How can you expect _me_, in _my_ circumstances, to get sanctified and live a holy life?'

But is not that just the point where the triumph of faith comes in? It is there that we see the value of those exceeding great and precious promises by which you are to become a partaker of the Divine nature, and on which your faith is to build. 'As thy days, so shall thy strength be'; 'My God shall supply all your need'; and that includes your need in cleansing, your need in keeping, and your need in blessing adapted to your circumstances. Remember, the Lord is the Master of circumstances, and you must put yours into His hands, and trust Him not only to sanctify you wholly, but to preserve you blameless unto the end. You must trust God to make you equal to your circumstances.

2. But there is that second class of anxious persons to whom I referred: those who are held back by _the fear of consequences_.

Oh, what crowds of enlightened souls might be walking triumphantly along the King's highway, who are yet tramping on amidst doubts and fears and frequent condemnation, all because they dread the pressure of God's claims upon them, and fear the consequences of making a whole-hearted surrender to Him.

There is another point of view about which I must speak a word in passing. When looking at the consequences of fully yielding to God's claims, and perhaps trembling and hesitating, do you ever think of the results of holding back what you know God wants? Do not forget that there are some consequences of saying 'No' to the Lord. When a child knows his father's wish, but, in answer to a reasonable request, says, 'No', you call it disobedience. Is it not a still more serious thing to be disobedient in the presence of more than a father's love? You must count the cost of that, when resisting the light and influence of God's Spirit.

Surely, you will not choose to be numbered among those who 'knew their Lord's will, but did it not'. In the Gospel story such were 'beaten with many stripes'; that means stripes of loss, stripes of pain, stripes of sorrow, perhaps even stripes of death. If we are to suffer, let it be the result of following Him, rather than the consequence of denying our Lord.

Now, I do not want to mislead anybody, for, of course, there are consequences of surrender and determination to live the holy life; but, unfortunately, these fearful ones look at the wrong side of the list. They think of the separateness from the world involved in a life of Holiness; they think of the cold shoulder which some, even Christian friends, would give them; they think of the toil after souls which the sanctified must maintain; of the money that they may have to give; of the partnership in Christ's sufferings, and other self-denying expressions of devotion to God and the Kingdom. 'Oh, I shall have to wear uniform!' or 'go to the Open-Air', or 'perhaps become an Army Officer', and, as an Officer, 'may have to leave my native land'. The enemy holds these and many similar things before the eyes of a convicted soul, very often magnifying the facts until the word difficulty is changed to impossibility, and, like the young ruler of the Gospel story, they 'go away sorrowful'.

A man came across London to be present at one of our Thursday Meetings. When spoken to by an Officer, he admitted the force of all that had been said, but he found an insurmountable difficulty in his business as a shopkeeper. He saw that the goods on his shelves and sold over the counter were mixed, including what he realized to be bad and damaging to many others. His heart was full of conviction and desire, but anxiety about his wife and family prevented him closing down, while his conscience prevented him selling a business which he knew had wrong and doubtful things connected with it. 'What is wrong for me', he said, 'would be wrong for another'; and so he could not pay the price, and, like the young ruler referred to, he has gone away sorrowful.

In the Meeting of the following week a man came to the table seeking the blessing, and he cried out aloud, 'O Lord, give me a clean heart! Take the malice out which I have had towards these two persons! O Lord, I will go straight to them, and confess, and ask them to forgive me!' Needless to add, the blessing came, and, rejoicing, he went off to his home, fifty miles out of London, to fulfil his word. The contrast between this and the man previously mentioned teaches its own lesson.

Now, it is quite right that seekers of Full Salvation should _look at the cost, and count it well_; but, Oh, that they would also think of the tremendous balance of joy and peace and blessing which more than makes up for what has to be borne or done or given up! Instead of dim twilight, or hazy doubts or forebodings, the sunshine of the Divine Presence makes all things bright and gladsome. Instead of depending for light and peace on 'suns' which 'go down' and 'moons' which 'withdraw' themselves, the fully sanctified man finds that God has become his 'everlasting light, and the days of his mourning are ended'. As I have said, there will be sacrifice, but there also will be satisfaction; and, as with the mother in regard to her new-born babe, the fully saved soul forgets the suffering and the sacrifice which has been made.

Sometimes we are tempted to look at sacrifice apart from love. I heard Mr. Bramwell Booth say in a Meeting, 'Sacrifice is the flower of love'; and you know full well that things which are otherwise impossible become comparatively easy to true love and faith. Men do not talk about sacrifices when they realize that they have received more--much more--than that which they gave up.

When I hear people dwelling on how much they have given up for God, I begin to wonder whether those self-denying ones have realized the joy and satisfaction which God wants to give to the fully consecrated heart. If they have, it is strange for them to talk of rushlight sacrifices whilst they are bathed in the sunlight of the Divine Presence.

Sometimes distressing consequences do follow surrender and faith, but are there not also glorious consequences in the form of joy in the seasons of sorrow, light and guidance in the hours of perplexity, Divine approval and communion when others misunderstand and shun us? Surely the knowledge of this leads me to cry, 'O my Lord, let me have the blessing with all its consequences!'

Oh, my friends, whilst counting the cost, look at both sides of God's gift, the crown as well as the cross; the delight as well as the denial; the heavenly sunshine as well as the earthly shadows; and the great, glorious, everlasting reward in eternity. When you have looked at all these things, make your choice; and, having chosen aright, 'hold fast that which thou hast, that no man take thy crown'.

IX

Bound to the Altar

'_Bind the sacrifice with cords, even unto the horns of the altar._' (Psalm cxviii. 27.)

Periodically in our Halls we have had what we call Altar Services. At such times, and more especially during the Self-Denial and Harvest Festival efforts, Soldiers, friends, and others who are interested in God's work are invited to come forward with gifts of money to lay upon the special table which, for that occasion, serves the purpose of an altar. Those who have been present at these Meetings will not need to be told that the 'gift' is irrevocable. The giver cannot honestly get it back--it has been deliberately parted with.

That is a very definite thing _done_, and it illustrates the central idea of the verse which I have read to you.

Some time ago I went with The General to Stockholm, where the Swedish Officers were gathered together for their annual Congress. At the close of the Councils I asked an Officer how he liked the Meetings, and what the result would be. He replied, 'Commissioner, it's just like this. It is as if The General during these days builded an altar, and to-night we all climbed upon that altar offering ourselves a sacrifice unto God, and the fire came down and sanctified the offering.'

_The true worship and service of God_--it need not be told--_involves sacrifice_. If any one here feels that religion is all a question of how much he can get out of God by saying so many prayers or offering so many donations, he has a totally wrong conception of what it is. I know that there are many who regard their vows to God very lightly. They seem to think they can get through their religion without much self-denial. Religion of that sort, however, is worth nothing either to those who possess it or to the Lord whom they profess to serve. Without self-sacrifice, without self-denial, religion comes to nothing, or, at any rate, amounts to very little.

I do not desire that you should imitate the senseless practices prevailing in some countries, where the people are allowed to build their hopes of Salvation upon penance and self-torture. And yet we are sometimes put to shame by the things we hear and see.

A short time ago I received a letter from a young Officer in India. After describing some pleasing scenes, he said, 'One sees some awful things out here. I saw a man the other day literally walking upon nails. It made me shiver. He imagined that by this he could save his soul. With what passion I wished that man could only understand that other nails were pierced in other feet for him! But you see how in earnest the people here are about their religion, and in all these things they are seeking for Salvation.'

There are not many who are prepared to do what that poor Indian devotee did. They are a long way off that. But unless they are prepared to include sacrifice in their religion, they are not on the lines either of their Lord's example or their Lord's words. The cross, the following, the denial of self, the Calvary path, cannot be excluded from the life of Christ's follower.

Whilst true service must always be a spiritual thing, do not imagine it is something merely 'in the mind'. I have heard it talked about in the same way as a doctor talked to a poor lad who had his thumb crushed in a machine.

'Don't shout, my poor boy', he said. 'Don't you know I feel it as truly as you do?'

'Perhaps so,' replied the boy; 'but you feels it in your mind, and I feels it in my thumb!'

Sacrifice is often talked about by some people who feel it perhaps as much as the doctor felt the crushed thumb, being largely a matter of sympathy, without the actual hurting.

This matter of sacrifice indicates a certain principle, a certain state of mind, which _expresses itself in two ways_. It is either a giving up of things which are against God's will, or the contribution of something which is valuable, to be surrendered or used in His service. Shall I not say that sacrifice represents the heart saying, on the one hand, 'I will come out, and be separate, and touch not the unclean thing'? and, on the other hand, 'What shall I render unto the Lord for all His benefits toward me?' Not only singing, 'Where He leads I will follow', 'Lord, I make a full surrender', but actually spending and being spent for Him.

I need not dwell at any great length upon the word 'altar'. I referred to the table in our Altar Services as the place of gifts. It is also the place of dedication, and the place of sacrifice. Thank God, it has been so to many, as well as the mercy-seat, where God has sealed the acceptance of the offering presented to Him.

How often have we been reminded of that altar of sacrifice in the shape of the accursed cross, where the Saviour made atonement for our sins! And it is in reality at that altar we bow when we sincerely sing--

_Were the whole realm of nature mine, That were a present far too small; Love so amazing, so divine, Demands my soul, my life, my all!_

Not only 'demands' the sacrifice, but 'shall have my soul, my life, my all'.

_But what does the binding of the sacrifice to the altar mean?_ The phrase is very significant.

The horns were the corner posts, and sometimes the worshipper presenting a living creature would tether it with a cord to the altar's horn, so that the gift could be used either for sacrifice or service. In both cases the figure of speech seems to imply the possibility of the consecration being reversed by the withdrawal of the offering, or broken by its loss, the sacrifice slipping off or away from the altar, or being loosened by the person who had presented the offering.

The Psalmist therefore urges those to whom he is speaking to maintain their consecration, and to see to it that their sacrifice is not taken off the altar after being put on. These corner posts were not there for ornament, but for use, and the cords were intended to hold the sacrifice to the altar, so that it could not be snatched away.

Here is my Bible. If I turned away, and anybody were so minded, it would be easy to make off with it while my back was turned. But if I had some cord, and, by crossing it transversely from corner to corner, tied the Book to the table, that would make it secure. It was thus that the sacrifices were bound to the Jewish altar.

What I want to emphasize by this is, that those who come with gifts and dedications should bind themselves in terms of unalterable covenant. They should stand to their consecration when loss or pain or temptation come, as come they will in one form or another. It is just here where so many fail--they do not really maintain their sacrifice. That is to say, having made a consecration they do not stand to it. The offering has been made, but it has been taken back again; the vow has been registered, but not paid; the promise has been made, but not fulfilled; the consecration has been broken or reversed.

Take that wonderful scene in the life of Abraham. At the command of God he erected an altar, cut the sacrifice in pieces, and laid it there. Then Abraham waited for the coming of the fire. Before the fire came, or anything happened, the vultures, those unclean birds, were circling around his head, and around the altar, trying to defile the sacrifice or snatch it away or devour it. The story says that when the birds came down Abraham drove them away, and he stood to his covenant until the fire came. The vultures of temptation will circle around you. They will try to frighten you, and to remove the sacrifice wholly or partially, or to defile it in some way. Your business then is to drive them away, to bind and rebind the sacrifice to God's altar.

In the days of Queen Mary, a girl-martyr refused, when pressure was brought upon her, to deny her Lord and renounce her faith. She was condemned and taken to the seashore. There she was bound to a stake near the low tide line, and, as the incoming waters gathered round her feet, one of her persecutors rode out and offered to spare her life if she would renounce her faith and turn her back upon her Lord.

The waters rose to her waist, and he rode out again, and, when half unconscious, she was dragged out, and urged to recant. Refusing to do this, the girl was again bound to the stake.