516
November 1929
T h e
K i n g ’ s - B u s i n e s s
vase or for money—go. It is your duty to go. If you have the opportunity, open it with prayer!” But these young people often have a troubled look when I say that. Well, I allow them to answer the question themselves. I heard you sing three songs the other night. The first was, “I ’ll go where you want me to go, dear Lord, o’er mountain or plain or sea,” | The second was, “Where He leads me I will follow, I will follow all the way.” The third was, “All to Jesus I surrender, I surrender all.” Those are good Christian hymns. I find no fault with them whatever, but be sure you tell the truth when you sing hymns. A long time ago I scolded Christians for doing certain things. I have quit the scolding business. Law may scold, but grace never scolds. ' My mother used to raise house, plants when I was a boy. She would often have a calla-lily in Iowa. A calla- lily in Iowa was a rare thing. It would measure about an inch or an inch and a half across. The doctor said to an Iowa lady who had a calla-lily about this size: “You can’t spend another winter in Iowa on account of the climate. You will have to go to Southern California.” Her reply was: “Oh, I would like to go to Southern California, but what would I do with my calla-lily? I can’t trust any one with i t ; it is so precious.” And then she decided to take it with her. She had it on the train, in the pullman, and the people who came by admired it. She was very proud of it. One morning she woke and threw up the blind in the berth and looked out. She was in Southern California and there before her was a great field of calla-lilies—four or five inches across. She was astonished. She had never seen anything like it. She looked ,at her calla-lily and it was getting smaller and smaller! She looked out again. There was a long fence of great calla-lily blooms. She looked at her calla-lily and it was growing still smaller. Within fifteen minutes she had turned from love of that little calla-lily to hatred of it; She dressed hurriedly, and throwing a shawl over her shoulders, put her calla-lily under the shawl, went to the rear platform of the train, hurled it off into the weeds at,, the side of the track and said: “What do I want with that thing in Southern California ?” As a pastor I never accomplished much by criticizing things that people held dear. Instead of criticizing your little, withered flower of worldly pleasure I hold up before you the Lily of the Valley. I want you to take a long look at the Rose of Sharon; I want you to gaze into the heavens and see the Bright and Morning Star, the fairest of-ten thousand to my soul; and when you get a vision of Jesus Christ,- when you get a taste of the abundant life, you will cast away the withered flowers and the withered leaves of your own life by the expulsive power of a new affection. • Let us review what we have gone over. “MY.” That is specialty of possession. You are the property of Jesus Christ; you are a gift of the Father to the Son. “Sheep.” That is specialty of disposition.' You have been born again; you have been baptized by the Holy Spirit into the body of Jesus Christ. You are not your own. “Hear my voice.” That is spiritual percep tion. “The natural man receiveth not the things o f the Spirit o f God : for they are foolishness unto h im : neither can he know them, for they are spiritually discerned,” but the spiritual man looks into the blessed Word of God and finds food for his soul, “I know them.” Jesus Christ is personally acquainted with every born-again one in this universe. We talk much about our inheritance in Him; He talks much about His inheritance in us. (fThey follow
me.” That is the description of a Christian in a normal attitude toward his Saviour. Dear reader, are you a sheep of Jesus Christ? Has He bought you with a price? Has He stamped upon you His image ? Are you acquainted with His voice? Do you know something about His fel lowship? Are you following in His footsteps? Then to you He makes this wonderful announcement: “And I give unto them eternal life; and they shall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of my hand. My father, which gave them me, is greater than all; and no man is able to pluck them out o f my Father’s hand. I and my Father are one.” “Eternal life.” That is the very life of God Himself. The life of God is in every Christian. “Christ liveth in me.” By grace He came in and began a good work in you, and He will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ. He died for me when I hated Him. He will not leave me when.I love Him. No man shall “pluck them out o f my hand.” That is the hand of Jesus Christ the Son of God. That hand has been pierced since He uttered these words. I am in the hollow of His pierced hand. Neither shall anything “pluck them out o f my Father’s hand.”- I am in the hol low of the hand of the eternal God who swings-the planets upon His arms! God the Father and Jesus Christ my Saviour have clasped their hands around me and the Holy Spirit is in me. Oh, what a place of safety! “The moun tains shall depart, and the hills shall be removed; but my kindness shall not depart from thee, neither shall the covenant o f my peace be removed, saith the LORD.” I am safe for all eternity, not because of what I am but because of what He is. Not because of what I am but because of where I am. I was living in an eastern city when my boy was four years old. I took him down town to a clothing store and bought him an overcoat. The pockets on the sides were perpendicular instead of hori zontal and his little hands went into the pockets clear up to the elbows. And we started home. It had rained and then frozen. Little patches of ice were here and there on the brick sidewalk. We came to one of the patches of ice. I said to my boy, “William, give me your hand.” He had no thought of obeying me and he indicated it in no uncer tain sound. I did not want my baby-to get h u rt; I knew he would fall if we should strike the ice; and yet, what could I do? A few things he had to learn. He had to learn that ice was slippery; he had to learn that.he was not able to stand alone upon slippery ice; and he had to learn that his father knew best. So I let him have his way. We struck the ice and down he went. He was hurt. I brushed him off but said not a word. As- we walked along he was sobbing as though his little heart would break. We came to a second patch of ice and I said, “William, give me your hand.” He refused at first, then he thought of the fall and took a hand out of his pocket and said as he reached up to m e: “Daddy, give me your hand.” “No, my dear. You can’t hold your weight if you should slip. Let Daddy have your hand.” He re fused. And the hand went back into the pocket. We struck the ice and the boy got a worse fall than at first. He arose crying, for he was badly hurt. ' I said not a word. We struck the third piece of ice and I said: “Wil liam, will you now give me your hand ?” And the boy, with all the enthusiasm of his nature, cried out as he held both hands up to me, “Oh, Daddy, please take both hands.” Our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ assures me that I am between His hand and His Father’s hand and that He and the Father are one. There is no question about my reaching home in safety. ’
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