Divine Election or Human Cry For Mercy?

For ye were as sheep going astray; but are now returned unto the Shepherd and Bishop of your souls.

1 Peter 2:25

How distinctly this shows that those sinners who trust in the Lord Jesus for salvation were already His sheep, when as yet they had not been brought to know their need of the great salvation accomplished for them by their “Good Shepherd.”  Ye are now returned unto the Shepherd:  how distinctly this shows the sure results of grace, through the quickening work of the Holy Spirit.  As the result of that work, the Lord Jesus possesses the chief attraction for them. “My sheep hear My voice...and they follow Me.”  They now seek no other place of refuge, no other Guide but Himself. They may possess but little comfort.  They have but a very faint assurance of their interest in His love.  Great may be the depths of inbred evil over which they have to mourn; yet withal they can truly say that their eyes are toward Him and the desire of their hearts is after Him.  The sure evidence this, that His eyes were previously towards them, and His desire first after them, and that His voice has effectually called them to Himself.

“Them also I must bring, and they shall hear My voice.”  How emphatic!  How certain is the Shepherd’s language!  How complete are the arrangements of the Everlasting Covenant!  How irresistible are the workings of sovereign electing grace!  So is it always.  He begins the work in the soul of His beloved; and it is He who carries on that work unto the end.  Both the beginning and the end shall evermore be to the glory of His matchless, free, and unmerited grace."

—Thomas Moore

There are two points in the above quotation, most blessed and important, yet little understood today, which perhaps call for a brief amplification.  First, the fact that those who savingly believe in Christ are His “sheep” before ever they turn unto Him, for it is to be duly noted that 1 Peter 2:25 is not speaking of the recovery of backslidden Christians, but rather of their first coming to the Saviour.  As our Lord so plainly declared, “Other sheep have I (not “shall have”)...them also I must bring” (John 10:16).  They belonged to Him from all eternity.  They were His by the Father’s election and by His gift of them to His Son.  But, it may be objected, these sheep are said to “return” to Christ, so they must previously have been in the fold.  The answer is simple: Christ’s sheep went astray from Him when they fell in Adam, their natural head, and consequently they were born in sin.

Second, the voice of the verb.  It is not “ye have returned unto the Shepherd,” but “are now returned.”  This denotes they were completely passive therein.  The work of regeneration is entirely Divine, and nothing of man enters into it.  It is wrought in us, and not done by us.  The active follows the passive, as the results of life follow the bestowment of life.  Our coming to Christ is the consequence of His having drawn us. It is a sovereign act of Divine power which brings us from death unto life, in which we are completely passive.   We love him, because he first loved us.  (1 John 4:10)

~A. W. Pink

The Voice of Jesus In The Storm

But straightway Jesus spake unto them, saying, Be of good cheer; it is I; be not afraid.

Matthew 14:27

Is it stormy weather with you?  Do cares, disappointments, bereavements, as a heavy cloud, deluge you with sorrow?  Do spiritual troubles assail you as a hurricane, and drive here and there your harassed soul?  Do the winds and the waves beat upon your frail bark, so that it seems about to sink?  "O afflicted one, tossed with tempest, and not comforted, " listen to the voice of Jesus, who comes to you in the storm, walking upon the waters, and says, "It is I; be not afraid!"

The design of religion is to make us joyful.  This world is indeed a valley of tears, but the Man of sorrows has visited it that we may rejoice.  We are surrounded by causes of alarm, but the gospel bids us fear not.  And that which alone can enable us to be joyful amid sorrows, and of good courage amid perils, is the presence of our God and Savior.  To believe in Him as always near, always kind, always mighty to save, is the true and sole antidote to fear and grief.  It is only in proportion as we recognize His voice, as that of a friend, saying, "It is I," that we can comply with his exhortation, "Be of good cheer; do not be afraid."

The disciples were once in a storm on the Sea of Galilee. Their Master had been miraculously feeding five thousand people, with five loaves and two fishes.  The people were so astonished at His power, that they resolved to make Him their King.  But as He had come not to reign, but to suffer, He urged them to return quietly to their homes, and He Himself retired to a mountain to pray.  Meanwhile, Jesus "constrained His disciples to get into a ship, and to go before Him unto the other side" of the lake.  It is most likely that they did not understand the reason of this request. It seemed strange to them.  Why should He be left to disperse the multitude alone?  Why should they be deprived of His company?  If He wished retirement, why could they not wait on the shore until He came from the mountain?  How could He follow them, if they went away with the ship?  But they were commanded, and this was sufficient.

Even so, Christians still have to do and to suffer many things, the reason of which is hidden from them.  But an obedient disciple will not say, "Why has this been appointed me to do?  Why has that been given me to suffer?—for until I comprehend the reason I will not obey the command." Oh, no!  His language will rather be, "Lord, what will you have me to do?"  If the head of a family, the commander of a ship, the general of an army, often gives orders which, though not explained, are promptly obeyed, shall we presume to sit questioning the will of Jesus, instead of making haste and delaying not to keep His commandments?  May we not expect to hear Him reprovingly say to us, "What is that to you?  Follow Me!"

But the Christian’s duty not only sometimes baffles his reason, but also opposes his preferences. How much more willingly would the disciples have remained in the company of their beloved Master!  How much they perhaps fancied they were losing, while, deprived of His company, they were in the ship alone!  So, in obedience to duty, the Christian may still seem to be a loser, not only in temporal, but even in spiritual respects.  His opportunities of religious advancement may appear to be curtailed by a course which, otherwise, he would not hesitate to pronounce his duty to his Savior. It is his duty still.  Apparent consequences do not diminish the obligation of an obvious command.  And he who most scrupulously adheres to the path of obedience will most successfully travel in the path of improvement too.  Duty is identical with privilege.  However delightful and profitable the company of Jesus must have been, the disciples gained far more by being obediently absent, than rebelliously near.  Obedience is the best kind of nearness.

The evening on which the disciples embarked was calm and fair.  The day had not been stormy—else the five thousand could not so comfortably have sat upon the grass at that miraculous feast.  It was after the disciples had left the shore that "the sea arose by reason of a great wind that blew."  They therefore must have anticipated a safe and pleasant voyage. Thus how often do storms visit believers, when only calm weather is expected!  The brightest beginnings are not sure harbingers of continued prosperity!  The morning sun may be undimmed, but black thunderclouds may conceal his rays at noon.  The finest day may be followed by the stormiest night, and the ocean, now without a ripple, may before long writhe beneath the lashings of the tempest.  Our dearest treasures may suddenly be taken from us, and our fairest hopes are withered in the bud. Sunshine and calm are treacherous—they cannot always last.  Do not sailors expect to encounter gales and tempests, and therefore provide themselves with anchors and all other things that may be of use in such emergencies? How foolish are they who voyage on the perilous ocean of life without the Christian’s hope "as an anchor of the soul, sure and steadfast!"  We should be prepared for storms, that we may not be overwhelmed with surprise and terror when they come.  But if Jesus is with us, the most terrific tempest cannot harm us.  The profoundest calm is infinitely perilous without Him.

Behold the frightened disciples in their storm-driven boat!  They have to struggle with difficulties.  The favorable breeze with which they weighed anchor has changed to an opposing gale.  They have taken down their sail as no longer of any use, and they are now tugging at the oars!  "They toiled in rowing, for the wind was contrary unto them."  Moreover, the night "was now dark!"  They were in danger too, for their little vessel was "in the midst of the sea, tossed with waves."  Worse than all, they were alone, for "Jesus had not come unto them."

This is a fit representation of the circumstances by which believers are still often tried.  What contrary winds and tides have they to contend with!  What darkness surrounds them!  What perils threaten them!  And sometimes, even Jesus seems withdrawn!  The stormy gales of trouble blow from various quarters.  Bitter disappointments, grievous losses, perplexing cares, anxious apprehensions, pinching poverty, the injuries of foes and, far worse, the slights of friends. Painful diseases, suspension of beloved activities, prostrated strength, debilitated faculties, weary wakefulness, gnawing pain.  Heartbreaking bereavements, tearing from us those with whom our very life was bound together, leaving a blank which nothing earthly can fill.  A wounded spirit, bending beneath the burden of anguish, or severe conflicts with the great adversary of souls, harassing temptations, distorted views of truth, awful terrors of mind, gloomy doubts, dark despondency.  Oh!, what black clouds do such stormy winds as these often cause to gather round the believer, so that scarcely a ray of light can struggle through to cheer him as he is tossed up and down amid the billows!

Was this to be expected?  Am I not a disciple, under the special protection of Jesus?  Has He not promised to defend me from all harm?  Has He not told me that His angels have charge over me, and that no evil thing shall happen unto me?  If He were my Protector, my Savior, my Friend, could such troubles as these assail me?  These thoughts may have assailed the disciples.  Though Jesus was then bodily on the earth, yet they did not escape the storm. But Jesus was not unfaithful or forgetful.  Do not be then, O reader, surprised if sometimes you also are "in the midst of the sea, tossed with waves."  Who expects the ocean to be always calm?  Discipleship is distinguished rather by exposure to troubles than exemption from them.  "We must through much tribulation enter into the kingdom."  Christ has promised to deliver us out of the storm, but not to secure us from encountering it.  "There has no temptation taken you but such as is common to men; but God is faithful, who" (not will preserve you from trial, but) "will not allow you to be tempted above that you able, but will with the temptation also make a way of escape that you may be able" (not to avoid it, but) "to bear it."  "The same afflictions have been accomplished in the brotherhood" of faith in all ages.  The saints in glory all toiled in rowing amid similar billows.  Though never shipwrecked, they were all tempest-tossed.  The elder Brother himself did not escape!  He was made like to His brethren—in all points tempted as we are!  "Beloved, think it not strange concerning the fiery trial which is to try you, as though some strange thing happened unto you" (I Cor. 10:13; 1 Peter 4:12, 5:9).

These storms may often rise against us, even when acting in direct obedience to the will of Christ.  The disciples had not set sail without His express command.  Yet the tempest assailed them.  Jesus knew that the wind would arise.  He Himself permitted it to blow.  Nevertheless, He told the disciples to go over to the other side!  We should learn never to interpret duty by success.  The opposition, which assails us in the course of obedience, is no evidence that we are mistaken.  He who gives laws to His servants is the controller of all events.  It may be His will that in the very act of obedience we should encounter storms.  He foreknew every trial we should meet with when He laid down the route we should pursue.  We must not dare to turn back.  The disciples, when the wind became contrary, might have wished to return to shore, especially as Jesus was there.  But they had been commanded to go to the other side; and so they continued rowing, even though they made little or no progress.  They were not responsible for the contrary wind that stopped them, but they were responsible for striving to obey the will of their Master. Even so, no difficulty must daunt us in the way of obedience.  Let the prow of our vessel be ever turned toward the point of duty, however terrible the gale, however mighty the waves which beat against it.  Though they may seem to force us back, yet, if we persevere in obediently struggling against them, we are really making rapid progress.  Christ secures deliverance and success to every faithful disciple.  Better, infinitely better, to suffer the loss of all things in obeying Jesus, than to purchase the universe by retreating from the storm.  Better to perish in the tempest than to seek safety in a disobedient flight.  "For whoever will save his life shall lose it; but whoever will lose his life, for My sake, shall find it."

~Christopher Newman Hall

One Gracious Purpose

And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.

Romans 8:28

Providence is God's government of the universe.

Providence is that mighty scheme . . .
  which commenced before time was born;
  which embraces the annals of other worlds besides ours;
  which includes the history of angels, men, and devils.

Providence comprises the whole range of events which
have taken place from the formation of the first creature,
to the last moment of time—with all the tendencies,
reasons, connections, and results of things.

Providence encompasses the separate existence of
each individual, with the continuation and influence
of the whole, in one harmonious scheme.

We are puzzled at almost every step, at the deep,
unfathomable mysteries of Providence!

How often is Jehovah, in His dealings with us, a God
who hides Himself! How often does He wrap Himself in
clouds, and pursue His path upon the waters, where we
can neither see His goings, nor trace His footsteps!
How many of His dispensations are inexplicable, and
of His judgments how many are unfathomable by the
short line of our reason!

But whatever we don't know now, we shall know hereafter.
The crooked will be made straight, the clouds of darkness
will be scattered, and all His conduct towards us placed in
the broad day-light of eternity.

We shall see how all the varying, and numerous, and
seemingly opposite events of our history, were combined
into one gracious purpose of mercy, which was most
perfectly wise in all its combinations.

Delightful, most delightful, will it be to retrace our winding
and often gloomy course, and discern at each change and
turning, the reason of the occurrence and the wisdom of God.
Delightful will it be to discern the influence which all our
temporal circumstances, all our disappointments, losses,
and perplexities, had upon our permanent and celestial
happiness.  How much of divine wisdom, power, goodness,
and faithfulness, will our short and simple history present,
and what rapturous fervor will the discovery give to the
song of praise which we shall utter before the throne of
God and the Lamb!

~John Angell James, Jewels From James

The Thanksgiving Lesson

Giving thanks always for all things unto God and the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ

Ephesians 5:20

It is fitting that a people who have received untold blessings, should set apart one day on which all should recall their mercies, think of God as the Giver of all and express their grateful feelings in words of praise.
  
But it is not intended that the other three hundred and sixty four days shall be empty of thanksgiving, because one is named as an especial day of rejoicing. We cannot crowd into any one day—all the thanks of a year. Indeed, on no one day can we be grateful for another day. No one person can give thanks for a whole company of people. So no one day can give thanks for any but itself. All the days should be thanksgiving days. Any that is not, lacks something, and stands as imperfect days in the calendar.  In may be set down as a lost day that one in which no songs of gratitude rises from our hearts and lips to God.

Anybody can be thankful on one day of the year. At least it ought to be possible for even the most gloomy and pessimistic person to rouse up to grateful feeling, on the high tide of an annual Thanksgiving day. No doubt it is something to pipe even one little song in a whole year of discontent and complaining—the kind of living with which some people fill their years. God must be pleased to have some people grateful even for a few moments in a long period of time, and to hear them sing even once in a year. But that is not the way He would have us live. The ideal life is one that is always thankful, not only for a little moment on a particularly fine day. "Praise is lovely," that is, beautiful—beautiful to God. The life which pleases Him is the one which always rejoices.

Gladness may not be thanksgiving. It certainly is not all of thanksgiving. One may have a heart bubbling with joy, without a note of thanksgiving. The task of happiness is one to which we should all firmly set ourselves. To be miserable in this glorious world, is most unfit. We should cultivate joyousness. But our present lesson is a larger and deeper one. Thanksgiving implies thoughts of God. One may be glad all the day—and never think of God. Thanksgiving looks up with every breath, and sees God as Father from whom all blessings come.

Thanksgiving is praise. The heart is full of gratitude.  Every moment has something in it to inspire love. The lilies made Jesus think of his Father, for it was he who clothed them in beauty. The providence of our lives, if we think rightly of it, is simply God caring for us. Our circumstances may sometimes be hard, our experiences painful, and we may see nothing in them to make us glad. But faith teaches us that God is always good and always kind, whatever the present events may be. We may be thankful, therefore, even when we cannot be glad. Our hearts may be grateful, knowing that good will come to us even out of pain and loss.

This is the secret of true thanksgiving. It thinks always of God and praises him for everything. The song never dies out in the heart, however little there may be in the circumstances of life to make us glad. Nowhere in the Bible can we find either ingratitude or joylessness commanded or commended. All ungrateful feelings and dispositions are condemned. A great deal is said in disapproval of murmuring, discontent, worrying, and all forms of ingratitude. Again and again we are taught that joy is the keynote of a true life. It is not enough to rejoice when the sun shines, when all things are going well with us, when we are in the midst of prosperity; we are to rejoice as well when clouds hide the blue sky. The hardest experience of any day, enfolds in it, a gift from God—if only we receive it in faith and love. We think of the sunny days as being good days, and we call unpleasant weather bad. But if we understood it, we would know that God sends to the earth just as rich blessings in His clouds—as He does in His sunshine. The clouds bring rain, and after the rain all nature appears clothed in fresh beauty.  Indeed, we shall some day see that many of the richest and best blessings of our lives, have come to us through experiences and circumstances which to us seemed adverse, and from which we shrank.

In one of the Psalms, the writer says: "I will bless the Lord at all times; His praise shall continually be in my mouth." He had learned to sing in the hours of pain—as well as in the times of gladness. That is the way the Christian should live—nothing should hush his song or choke the voice of thanksgiving and praise.  There is an old promise which says that to those who love God—all things work together for their good. All we have to make sure of—is that we keep ourselves in the love of God. If we do this, everything which comes to us will bring its enriching in some way, and out of the painful things—our lives we will gather the best blessings and the deepest joys.

How may we learn this thanksgiving lesson?  We should instantly set about the breaking of a new path, a thanksgiving path.  Christian thanksgiving is the life of Christ in the heart, transforming the disposition and the whole character. Thanksgiving must be wrought into the life as a habit before it can become a fixed and permanent quality.  This lesson is learned only when it becomes a habit which nothing can weaken. We must persist in being thankful.  

A habit is a well worn path. It will not be easy at first, for gloomy dispositions when long indulged persist in staying in our lives.  But they can be conquered, and we should not pause in our effort until we have trained ourselves entirely away from everything that is cheerless and ungrateful, into the ways of joy and song.  Persisting in the disposition, the heart returns again and again to its gladness, until by and by it has been lured altogether away from the old beaten paths of discontent, discouragement, and unhappiness, and runs always in the ways of thanksgiving.  When we can see no reason for praise, we must believe in the divine love and goodness, and sing in the darkness.  Thanksgiving has attained its rightful place in us, only when it is part of all our days and dominates all our experiences.  He who has learned the Thanksgiving lesson, well has found the secret of the beautiful life.

~excerpts from the works of J. R. Miller