George H. Morrison's Old And Beautiful Devotions

[nChrist]

The Angel and the Sandals - Page 2
by George H. Morrison

The Divine Economy of Power

Then once again our text suggests what I might call the divine economy of power. "Gird thyself; do not expect me to do it; what thou canst do for thyself, that thou must do." It was not pride that kept the angel from that service. Things we would scorn to do are done by angels gladly. If it was not beneath Christ to wash the feet of Peter, it was not beneath an angel to tie his shoe-latchet. But the angel refrained (as angels always do), in that economy of strength which is divine, from doing for Peter in his hour of need what it was in his power to do himself. Let Peter strive all night, he cannot loose his chains, and therefore it is the angel who does that. No beating of Peter's hands will burst the gate, and therefore it is the angel who unbars it. But "gird thyself, and bind thy sandals on"— even when God is at work there is something thou canst do; and that something, which is within thy compass, will never be performed by heavenly visitant.

The Miracles of Jesus

We see this same economy of power when we study the miracles of Jesus Christ. It is an added evidence for Jesus' miracles that the miraculous is kept down to the lowest point. He makes the wine, but will not fetch the water, it is in the power of the servants to do that. He feeds the famishing thousands on the hill, but the disciples must bring the bread and distribute it. The hand of man must roll away the stone when Lazarus is to be summoned from the grave, and when the breath of life has been bestowed, it is for others to unwrap his cerements.

Do Not Expect God to Do What You Can Do

Do you see the meaning of that divine procedure? It makes us fellow workers with the Highest. Peter needed the angel for his rescue, but for the rescue the angel needed Peter. "Gird thyself and bind thy sandals on; do the little thou canst do to help me"— so Peter was lifted out of mere passivity and made a fellow laborer with God. I think of this text when I see the harvest field where men are busy amid the golden grain. The ministry of God has given the harvest, and now the ministry of man must bring it home. I think of it when I see men struggling heavenward, wrestling towards heaven "just a little 'gainst storm and wind and tide." It is God who has wrought in them to do His will, and now they must work out their own salvation. Do we not sometimes wonder why it should be so hard to win the crown which God delights to give? Redeemed by blood, why should we have to fight so, why struggle in deadly fashion to the end? And the answer is that thus we are ennobled and called into fellowship with the divine and raised to be sharers in that work of grace which rests on the satisfaction of Christ Jesus. All that you cannot do, God will do. All that you can do, God will never do. Trust Him to free you by bursting iron doors and leading you triumphantly from prison. But gird thyself; do not ask God to do it. Do not wait for the angel to tie on the sandal. It is only a fool who would be idle because he was assured the light had come.

Leisureliness in God's Procedure

Lastly, the text suggests to me a certain leisureliness in God's procedure. The angels are always bent upon their ministry, but we never find an angel in a hurry. We know the kind of man that Peter was and how ardent and impulsive was his nature. He was always swift to speak and swift to act, too often without any reckoning of consequence. But had the calmest and most phlegmatic spirit been the tenant of that apostle's breast, it might well have been stirred into feverish haste that morning. Every moment was precious, and every moment perilous. Another instant and the soldiers might awake. Alive to his danger and to his opportunity, can you wonder if Peter clean forgot his sandals? And then the angel, calm amid that tumult, with a calmness born of fellowship with God, said "Gird thyself and put thy sandals on." I wonder if the girdle was ever so rebellious as on that morning in the prison house. I wonder if his sandals were ever so refractory as when every moment meant life or death to Peter; but there was something imperious about this angel, and Peter had no choice but to obey. It seemed an age to Peter while he stooped in his great agony of apprehension. What mattered the securing of his cloak when every moment was infinitely precious? But when Peter came to look back upon it all, he would see the meaning of the angel's conduct and learn the lesson (which is so hard to learn) that there is no hurry in the plans of God.

____________________

George H. Morrison Devotions

Dist. Worldwide in the Great Freeware Bible Study package called
e-Sword by Rick Meyer: http://www.e-sword.net/downloads.html
Full Featured - Outstanding - Completely FREE - No Strings Attached

(The goal of Rick Meyer is to distribute excellent Bible Study
Software to every country on earth in their own language FREE
of charge, and that goal gets closer by the day.)
____________________

[nChrist]

September 26

The Departing of the Angel - Page 1
by George H. Morrison

And they went out, and passed on through one street; and forthwith the angel departed from him— Act_12:10

The Ministry of Prisons

In the verses that precede our text we have the familiar story of Peter's release from prison. Perhaps the story would have been still more familiar, and would have impressed itself still more vividly on Christendom, had it not been overshadowed by that other scene when Paul and Silas sang in the jail at Philippi. The world would have been a great deal poorer but for its prisons. We owe more to our prisons than we think. Shining virtues have been developed in them; miracles of heaven have been wrought in them; immortal literature has been written in them, and these are things we could ill do without. And we could not do without that word of Jesus either— Sick and in prison, and ye visited Me.

No Prison Walls Can Shut Out an Angel

Peter, then, had been imprisoned by Herod. He had been cast into the inmost ward. You can hear door after door shut behind him with a re-echoing clang And then, to make assurance doubly sure, he is chained to two soldiers as Paul was, afterwards, in Rome. Perhaps Herod thought that if Peter's Master when He was left for dead had burst from the sealed grave, it were well to make assurance doubly sure when the prisoner was one of Jesus' henchmen. But there were some truths that Herod had yet to learn. And one of them was that when God Almighty works, "stone walls do not a prison make, nor iron bars a cage." Behold the angel of the Lord came upon Peter, and a light shined in the prison. You can shut out a man's nearest and dearest from him, but no authority can shut the angels out. And the angel touched Peter, and the chains fell off him. And the angel led him out from ward to ward. And the iron gate swung back upon its hinges, and Peter was out under the stars again. And the angel and Peter passed on through one street, we read, and forthwith the angel departed from him.

Why Did the Angel Lead Peter Out of the Prison and Then Leave Him?

Now, do you see why the angel left the disciple then? There is strong doctrine in the departing of the angel. Sometimes the angels leave us for our sin. We are so coarse, and evil-inclined and worldly, it would stain and sully their white robes to walk with us. They try it for one street— for we have all our chance— but it does not prove "the street which is called Straight." There is always a dying out of vision when a man or woman loses the childlike heart, and the dying of vision is the departing angel. Sometimes then, the angel leaves the soul— the brightness fades, the heavenlies disappear, the presence of white-robed purity is lost— and all because a man is growing worldly.

But that was clearly not the case with Peter. Right to the end, through all the struggle and the storm of life, Peter preserved, as only the greatest do, the great heart of a little child. If every child has got its guardian angel, I do not think that Simon's would be lacking. Yet for all that, when they had passed through one street, forthwith the angel departed from Simon Peter. And I think it is not difficult to see why. The angel's work was done; that is the point. There was no more need for the ministry of miracle. Peter was a man among men now; in the familiar streets, freed from his shackles, and with friends to go to— it was at that point the angel went away. There was the presence of Christ for Simon Peter now; there was God in His eternal law and love; but there was no need for the angel any more. His task was over when the chains were snapped, and the last gate between Peter and liberty swung wide.

God Intervenes Only in Extraordinary Difficulties

I wonder if you grasp, then, what I should venture to call the helpful doctrine of the departing angel? I think it is a feature of God's dealing that has been somewhat neglected in our thought. It means that in extraordinary difficulties we may reasonably look for extraordinary help. It means that when we are shut in prison walls and utterly helpless to extricate ourselves, God has unusual powers in reserve that He is willing to dispatch to aid His own. But when the clamant need goes, so does the angel. In the open street, under the common sky, do not expect miraculous intervention. It was better for Peter's manhood, and it is better for yours, that only the hour of the dungeon should bring that. The angel departs, but the law of God abides. The angel departs, but the love of Christ remains. And I think that all God's leading of His people and all the experience of the Christian heart might be summed up, with not a little gain, in the departing angel and the remaining Lord.

=====================See Page 2

[nChrist]

The Departing of the Angel - Page 2
by George H. Morrison

Israel in the Wilderness

I want then to take that suggestion and bring it to bear on various spheres of life. And first we shall think of Israel in the wilderness. There was a helplessness about Israel in the wilderness like the helplessness of Peter in the prison. It was a terrible journey through that gloomy desert, twice terrible for these newly emancipated slaves. There were mighty barriers between them and Palestine quite as impassable as any prison doors. They would all have perished but for angelic help. Hungry, the flight of quails came from the sea, and the ground was covered, in the red dawn, with manna. Thirsty, there flowed a stream of water from the rock, and they drank of the spiritual rock which followed them. The Red Sea became a highway for their feet, and they found a road right through the swellings of Jordan. It was the angel of God smiting their fetters off. It was the angel of God bursting the gates before them. Out of the dungeon and prison house of Egypt they were carried by the constraint of irresistible power. But then, when they reached Canaan and had, as it were, passed through one street of it, forthwith the angel departed from them. The manna ceased to fall after one harvest. They drank no more of the water from the rock. There came days when they were hunted down by enemies, yet the Jordan never stayed its flood again. Jehovah was with them still in love and law; the mystical presence of Jesus was their shield. But the need was past; the prison gates were broken, and they learned the doctrine of the departing angel.

In the Course of the History of the Christian Church

Or we might think of the history of the Christian church in this light. We might compare Pentecost with after centuries. There was a radiance and a spiritual glory about Pentecost that remind us at once of Peter and the angel. There were tongues, as it were of fire, on every head; the doors of that upper room were opened wide; the bonds of that little company were loosed; they were filled with joy, and they got new gifts of speech. It was a season of wonder and of miracle; it was the intervention of heaven for an hour. And then the church passed on through one street mystical, and forthwith the angel departed from them. Could Justin or Jerome or Augustine work miracles? Does God give any missionary now the gift of tongues? Can we heal the lame with a word as Peter did? Can we shake off the serpent as Paul did at Malta? There are some men who would have us believe we can; and there are more who, knowing that we cannot, think it impossible that it was ever done. I beseech you to avoid these two mistakes. Remember the doctrine of the departing angel. We are out in the streets now under the stars of heaven; miraculous ministries would simply ruin our manhood. Once, when there were prison gates to open, the angel came and gave the church her liberty. But now the Lord is our shepherd and our stay; the grace of an abiding Christ suffices. The angel has been summoned home to God.

In the Unfolding of Our Individual Life

I think, too, that we become conscious of this truth in the unfolding of our individual life. There comes a time in the life of every one of us when, not for our sin but for our deepest good, the angel leaves us as he left Simon Peter. In childhood we were very near the angels; we heard the beating of their wings sometimes when the world was hushed and everything was dark. We never thought of law or will or character; we lived in a dreamland, and the great dream was God. "Heaven lies about us in our infancy." In my church in the far north— and a beautiful church it was— we had curtains on each side of the pulpit. The way into the pulpit was through the curtains. And I often used to notice a tiny girl gazing at these curtains with very eager eyes. It was quite clear it was not the minister she was looking at. It was whenever the curtains moved that she would start and stare. I found out afterwards what all the interest was. The little child thought that heaven was behind the curtains. It was only a wilderness of joists and planks, but she thought that Christ was there; she thought that God was there; she thought that the minister stepped out from God into the pulpit, and every time the curtain rustled— little heart, little eager, beating heat! who could tell but thou mightst catch the shimmer of an angel there? Ah, well, she has passed on through one street since then, and forthwith the angel has departed from her. She will never mistake an organ-loft for heaven again. She never expects to see the gleam of wings now. And it may be that she looks back half wistfully to the day of glory in the grass and splendor in the flower. But my point is that the angel must depart if we are to walk the street of life in our true dignity. We are not here to dream that heaven is near us; we are here so to live that heaven shall be within us. And if at every turn the angel met us and the vision of a dream enchanted us, we should lose heart and nerve and power for the struggle and be like the lotos-eaters in ignoble quietude. The angel may go, but duty still remains. The vision may disappear, but truth abides. We never understand what will is, we never realize what we can do, we never feel the worth of personality moved by the spirit of an ascended Lord, till the hour when the angel goes away. Therefore, in the interests of highest and holiest manhood, we shall thank God for the angel-atmosphere of childhood, and thank Him nonetheless that when we have passed through one street, forthwith the angel has departed from us.

==========================See Page 3

[nChrist]

The Departing of the Angel - Page 3
by George H. Morrison

In the Experience of the Death of a Loved One

I think, too, we may swing this thought like a lamp over the dark chamber of the grave. In a great congregation there are always mourners, and I do not like to close without a word for them. It may be there is someone here who, looking backward, remembers an angel presence. Perhaps it was a mother, perhaps a sister;, but they were so gracious, so gentle, and so patient, that you see now it was of heaven, not of earth. And you thought it was going to be a lifelong comradeship; you would travel on through all life's streets together. But you only passed on through one street, and forthwith the angel departed from you. And you are not yourself yet, any more than Simon was. The streets seem strangely unreal; how the wind bites! But like Peter when he came to himself, you too shall say, "It was the Lord who sent His angel to deliver me." There was some work to do, and it was done. There was some help to give, and it was given. There were chains to break and prison doors to open, and you can bear witness that it was all accomplished. Remember the doctrine of the departing angel when the heart is empty and the grave is full.

____________________

George H. Morrison Devotions

Dist. Worldwide in the Great Freeware Bible Study package called
e-Sword by Rick Meyer: http://www.e-sword.net/downloads.html
Full Featured - Outstanding - Completely FREE - No Strings Attached

(The goal of Rick Meyer is to distribute excellent Bible Study
Software to every country on earth in their own language FREE
of charge, and that goal gets closer by the day.)
____________________

[nChrist]

September 27

Rhoda - Page 1
by George H. Morrison

And as Peter knocked at the door of the gate, a maid came to hearken, named Rhoda. And when she knew Peter's voice, she opened not the gate for gladness, but ran in, and told how Peter stood before the gate— Act_12:13-14

Her Name Meant "Rose" and She Was One Indeed

In visiting a sickroom where there is so much that speaks of suffering one is often met by a single spot of brightness. It is a flower that has been brought by loving hands to gladden and refresh the weary sufferer. The room is darkened to shut out the sunlight which might beat too fiercely on the aching head. The nurse as she moves upon her tender ministry does so with a noiseless footstep. Everything is quiet and subdued, suggestive of days and nights of anguish, save it may be one rose of perfect loveliness that opens its petals beside the sufferer's couch.

In some such way in this chapter of the Acts do we light on Rhoda, and Rhoda means a rose. She blossoms here in the presence of much suffering and glows like a flame of brightness in the gloom. The chapter opens with the death of James and with the imprisonment of Simon Peter. It closes with the tragic death of Herod when he was smitten of God in the midst of his great pomp. And it is in that environment of gloom, with the shadow on it of suffering and death, that we light on Rhoda— that is, Rose— and whose name is fragrant as a rose until this hour. Rhoda is no great lady playing a mighty part. We never hear of her before or after. And yet I think that God has set her here and given her an immortality she never looked for, not for her own sake but for ours, that we might be better because she has been.

A Servant Who Partook in Family Worship

In the first place, then, we shall observe that she shared in the devotions of the family. She was as eagerly interested in Simon Peter as anyone who was in the house that night. It is probable that Mary was in comfortable circumstances and that her home was a roomy and well-appointed one. She was the aunt of Barnabas, and Barnabas was a wealthy man who had had great possessions in the isle of Cyprus. And then we read that on this eventful night there was a large company in Mary's house, and that would point to it as a roomy dwelling, as of one who was in comfortable circumstances. We may take it, then, that in the home of Mary, Rhoda was not an only servant. She was one of several; she held an inferior place; it is likely that the other slaves would all be men. Yet here we find her at worship with the household, taking a share in their unceasing prayers, and overborne by a very tide of gladness when she heard the voice of Peter at the gate.

Mistress and Slave on Their Knees Together

Now there is one thing we must be on our guard against when we think of slavery in the ancient world. We must never carry into our thoughts of Jewish slavery the stories we have read of Greek and Roman slavery. A Roman was often very cruel to his slaves; it was very seldom that a Jew was that. There lingered in Jewry the older and kindlier feeling of the household of patriarchal times. And yet granting all that, as we must grant it if we have an eye for the hand of God in history, do you not think we have here in Mary's household a trace of the growing influence of Jesus? It is only eleven years since the resurrection, yet what a beautiful Christian home is this one. The mistress is still the mistress in the dwelling and the slave has not yet ceased to be a slave. Yet something of a common sisterhood has touched them; in their deepest and dearest they are united now; they have sat at the Table of the Lord together, and together they have prayed through the long night. That is how Jesus handled social problems. He was never a wild and reckless revolutionary. He never came to Mary and said, "You must let Rhoda go: it is against the law of God to have a slave." What He did do was to draw into sweet sisterhood the mistress and the menial at her gate; to fill up the gulf with His redeeming love until you find them on their knees together.

============================See Page 2

[nChrist]

Rhoda - Page 2
by George H. Morrison

Nevertheless Rhoda Performed Her Common Duties

Once more let us notice about Rhoda that she was not above her common duties. It was her task, as we say in Scotland, to mind the door, and our story tells us that she did it faithfully. In Jewish households, let me say in passing, it was generally a female slave who had this work to do. In our wealthier homes, I know not why, this duty is generally given to a manservant. But even among the wealthiest of the Jews and when every other servant was a man, the office of attending to the door was invariably entrusted to a woman. Even in the High Priest's palace it was so, as Simon Peter knew so bitterly. Was it not the maid who kept the door there who had taunted him into his base denial? How different was that porteress from Rhoda, for she had known him by his voice and spurned him, but Rhoda when she heard it was so glad that she was powerless in the very joy of it.

Rhoda Was Spiritually Liberated and Yet Was Satisfied with Her Menial Tasks
That, however, is by the way. What I want you to note just now is something different. It is how Rhoda, in spite of her new sisterhood, was still active in her menial duty. Do you not think she felt in these eleven years how the spirit of that home was altering? Was she not conscious of a new kindness and regard as for a little sister for whom Jesus died? Yet in spite of that and of the place it gave her and of the new liberties that clustered round it, she was just as faithful to her humble task as in the old days when she was nobody. Whatever her emancipation did, it did not make her fretful at her post. She did not think that she could play the mistress because for her and her mistress the one blood was shed. Rather I think did Rhoda realize now, as she had never realized before, that the very stamp and seal of Christian character is that one should be faithful in the least. It is never a mark of a true Christian liberty that it makes us discontented with our duty. It makes us discontented with ourselves, but never with the task that God has given us. Nay, on the contrary it glorifies that task, treats it as something that can be done for Christ's sake, and never forgets that the Master whom it serves could find a kingdom in a mustard seed.

We Need the Example of Rhoda's Service

Now I think, friends, there are few truths that need to be more pressed home today than that. If we need a great deal more of Mary's love, we need a great deal more of Rhoda's service. I heard of a theatre manager the other day who was talking to a friend about his difficulties. And he said that one of the greatest of his difficulties was this, to get people who would throw themselves into the humbler parts. He could always get actors to take the leading roles and who thought themselves perfectly competent to do it, but what troubled him was to get those who would do well in obscure and insignificant positions. That is a complaint we hear on every hand— a widespread unwillingness to do the lowlier services. And men lay the blame of it on education and on the new ideas that have followed education. But what we want is not less education: we shall never go back, please God, in that direction. What we want with all progress and all emancipation is more of the spirit of the Lord Jesus Christ. Do you think that there ever dwelt upon our earth one with a grander outlook than our Lord had? You recall how He said, "The Son shall make you free," and how He added, "Then are ye free indeed." And yet with all that freedom which was His, that largeness of heart as the sand of the seashore— how lovingly and how patiently He toiled in the lowly ministry of Galilee. That is the spirit we still need if we are to be saved from the perils of today. The boundaries of the past are being trampled on. The fences around the fields are breaking down. And you may depend upon it that with that enlargement there will be growing restlessness and trouble, unless we learn from Christ as Rhoda learned the sacredness of common duty. Samuel on the morning following his call opened the doors of the House of the Lord as usual. Rhoda returned to the duty of the slave though lifted up in Christ to be a sister. And Jesus, knowing that He came from God and went to God, knowing His past and future on the throne, did what? took a towel and girded Himself and washed His disciples' feet.

======================See Page 3

[nChrist]

Rhoda - Page 3
by George H. Morrison

In Her Gladness She Forgot Her Duty to Open the Door

But that is not the whole truth about Rhoda, though it is true and we do well to ponder on it. The fact remains that though not above her duty, yet she forgot her duty in her gladness. Like a cautious maid she did not open at once. That would have been perilous at such an hour. Someone was knocking and was knocking lustily, and she went to see if it was friend or foe. And it was then she recognized the voice of Peter, and it filled her with such an overmastering gladness that she was back in an instant with the news, and left the door barred in Peter's face. There was something, I take it, in Peter's voice that haunted the memory of those who heard it. And Rhoda knew it well. Had she not heard him preaching? Had she not often let him in before? And Peter would always have a word for her and always a smile of greeting when he passed, all which I have a shrewd suspicion had been the means of leading her to Christ. No wonder that her heart was rent in twain when she heard that Peter was at the point of death. No wonder she was ecstatically glad when she recognized his voice out in the street. And it is one of those touches which none could ever counterfeit and which in themselves are worth a score of arguments— to read that in the delirium of her joy she quite omitted to let Peter in.

The Danger in Our Gladness to Forget the Voices That Call from Without

Now, brethren, joy is a holy thing and gladness is a commanded duty. "Rejoice in the Lord always," says Paul, and, "again I say, Rejoice." There is a vast deal in the Gospel we profess that tends to foster a glad and joyous spirit. It is glad to be loved, and we are loved in Christ with a love that triumphs over sin and death. Yet in all gladness when it is overflowing do we not recognize a certain peril— the peril of forgetting just as Rhoda the voices that are calling from without. People whose lives are uniformly happy are very rarely generous in their sympathy. They do not understand; they have no eyes to see; they have no ears to hear the voice that cries. It takes the touch of sorrow to give that, and the bearing of burdens heavy to be borne, and the shadow that seems to bar the sunshine out and yet is the shadow of the wing of God. I think that God would give us far more happiness if He were only sure that we would use it well. If we would only use it to make others happy we should have it in full measure, running over. But there is something of Rhoda in us all, a tendency to forget for very gladness, and so we can thank God as in the hymn we sang, that our joys are touched with pain.

Rhoda Persisted

In closing shall we not notice this of Rhoda, that she was not to be laughed out of her conviction. Let them say what they would of the stranger at the gate, she constantly affirmed that it was Peter. It was very strange they should have disbelieved her, for this was the very thing they had been praying for. By night and day their prayers had been ascending that Peter might be restored to them again. Yet when their prayers were answered and he knocked and Rhoda came running to say that it was Simon, the only thanks she got from that prayer meeting was to be plainly told that she was mad. You see that people who attend prayer meetings can be pretty hasty in their judgments sometimes. It was not courteous and it was not kindly: what is more important still, it was not true. But we do not read that Rhoda lost her temper or left the room peeved because they doubted her. She constantly affirmed that it was so. She couldn't argue and she didn't try to. She showed her wisdom when she didn't try to. It is not for a maid to argue with her mistress, or for a mistress to argue with her maid. But mad or not mad, one thing Rhoda knew, and that was that she had heard the voice of Peter, and I honor her for the firm and steadfast way in which this girl adhered to her convictions. There is another voice that some of us have heard. It is the voice not of Peter, but of Peter's Lord. Long ago it may be, He stood at the door and knocked, and we knew His voice and opened and let Him in. God give us all something of Rhoda' s courage, that we too may be steadfast and immovable, though every man and woman whom we meet with should mock at us just as they mocked at her.

____________________

George H. Morrison Devotions

Dist. Worldwide in the Great Freeware Bible Study package called
e-Sword by Rick Meyer: http://www.e-sword.net/downloads.html
Full Featured - Outstanding - Completely FREE - No Strings Attached

(The goal of Rick Meyer is to distribute excellent Bible Study
Software to every country on earth in their own language FREE
of charge, and that goal gets closer by the day.)
____________________

[nChrist]

September 28

The Grace of Continuance - Page 1
by George H. Morrison

But Peter continued knocking— Act_12:16

A Person Should Not Be Judged by a Single Action

It is perilous to judge a person by one action. Life is too complex and intricate for that. It is as if one were to judge a countryside by a single and isolated clump of trees. Ruskin has it that if out of a Turner landscape you cut a quarter of an inch of sky, within that single quarter of an inch you would feel the infinity of heaven; and it may be there are lives like that, so penetrated with purpose or with passion, that wherever you touch them you get the real character. As a general rule, however, it is a perilous thing to judge a man by any single action. In his great hours he may be greater than himself; possibly he may be less than his true self. And always it is wisest, if you would judge a person not by the tenor of his life but by an action, to take an action of a usual kind. There was an hour, for instance, when Peter drew his sword and cut off the ear of the priest's servant with it. There was another hour— never to be forgotten— when, panic-stricken, he denied his Lord. But if I wished to know the real Peter, I should not turn to either of these hours; I should rather choose an action such as this— Peter continued knocking. Shall I tell you what it reveals in the apostle? Three things that are well worth observing.

I: Peter's Courage

In the first place, this common act shows Peter's courage. It makes that unmistakable. Whoever it was who stood there in the street, it was not a panic-stricken man. When Peter broke prison we know what hour it was; it was the fourth watch of the night, between 3 and 6 in the morning. This indicates that it was no longer dark; the day was beginning to glimmer in the east. And the smoke of the household fires was mounting heavenward, and the first footfalls were echoing on the pavements, and Peter continued knocking. Shrouded in the darkness of the third watch, he might have been reasonably safe out in the street. But in the fourth watch, when the sun was rising, it was at his peril that he delayed a moment. Yet Peter, who had once been panic-stricken and in an agony of fear denied his Lord, was evidently not panic-stricken now. It was a very usual thing to do, and yet it was a courageous thing to do; far more courageous than that whirling passion which plucked the sword out of the scabbard once. And it sprang from the certainty that God was with him, and having rescued him would not desert him now. "The Lord will perfect that which concerneth me."

The Courage to Continue Knocking

Now that is a lesson we would do well to learn about the essential quality of courage. Just to continue knocking patiently may be braver than the most gallant deed. I grant you there come moments in our lives when courage may flash into dramatic splendor. There are hours for men of crowded life which are worth an age without a name. When the soldier dismounts to save a wounded comrade— when the fireman risks his life to save a child, there is something in that which strangely moves the heart. But that is the courage which is thrilling rather than the courage which is telling. The truest courage in this life of ours is seldom momentary or spectacular. It moves in the shadow of the dreary street; dwells in the dull seclusion of the home; continues doing things, with quiet heart, when the natural impulse would be to turn and flee. Just to get up each dull and dreary morning and say, "Please God I shall play my part today"; just to go out and do it quietly in the teeth of weariness and ingratitude; just to shut our ears to calling voices and bear our daily cross victoriously, is the finest heroism on this side the river. No man is ever far from the heroic who has learned to do things when he feels least like them. There is little hope for a man in this strange world who surrenders to his whimsies every morning To trample under foot all moods and feelings— to get to our duty and our cross in spite of them— to do that summer and winter till we die is the one road to the music and the crown. That was pre-eminently true of Christ. His was the courage of continuance. Through ridicule, through obloquy, through suffering, Christ continued knocking.

=========================See Page 2

[nChrist]

The Grace of Continuance - Page 2
by George H. Morrison

II: Peter's Understanding

In the second place, this common action reveals to us Peter's understanding. Clearly he did not misinterpret what was happening within the house. Contrast him, for instance, with Naaman. When Naaman was bidden go and wash in Jordan, he thought that the prophet was making light of him. So Naaman turned and went away in a rage because he misinterpreted the prophet. And if Peter had misinterpreted like that, he too would have gone away in a great rage; but Peter continued knocking. We are always ready for misinterpretation when we knock or ring at a door and no one answers; doubly ready when we see peering faces behind the glass of the door or through the blind. And that is precisely what Peter had to bear, for Rhoda came and looked and went away again, and yet Peter understood it perfectly. The fact is he understood their feelings by what had happened that morning to himself. That is always how we understand people; by the kind of thing which has happened to ourselves. Half an hour earlier Peter had seen an angel, and he had been dazed and thought it was a ghost; and now they think that Peter is a ghost, and Peter instantly grasps the situation. That is why he did not grow indignant. That is why he did not stalk away. He understood from his own stupefaction how terrified they would be for a few moments. And so he stood there, out in the street at daybreak, and continued knocking and showed by his action that he understood.

Is it not usually in that way that people come to know we understand them? "Though I speak with the tongue of men and of angels, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing." To be misunderstood is a true grief. It is a grief which Christ experienced to the full. A man is never himself— never at his best— when he is surrounded by misunderstanding But when a man feels that he is understood, he casts aside reserve and is himself, and he generally feels that through common touches. There are people who would give their bodies to be burned, and yet you never feel they understand. There are others who do no splendid services, and yet have a genius for understanding, By a kindly question, by a homely word, by a little deed of kindness light as gossamer, men waken to find that they are understood. All great leaders of men have had that gift. It is really the secret of personal attraction. No power of organizing mighty armies will ever explain Napoleon, for example. Along with that must be the touch which tells and the mystic sympathy that breaks down strangerhood if dying legionaries are to cry "My Emperor." If thou canst serve in great and splendid ways, then go and serve thus, and the Lord reward thee. If thou hast genius or if thou hast wealth, consecrate them all to noble causes. But if thou canst only do quite common kindnesses, do not neglect them while the days are hurrying, for they tell men that they are understood.

III: Peter's Consecration

Then, in the third place, this common action reveals to us Peter's consecration. He stood there knocking— and half an hour before he had been in the royal company of angels. It is all very well for a beggar to stand and knock. But Peter had had an experience that morning which had lifted him up into the courts of heaven. He had been made a little lower than the angels, for he had had an angel for his visitor., and yet in the dawn out in the common street Peter continued knocking. A little while before, that very morning, Peter had come to a great iron gate. And at a single touch of the angelic finger that gate had opened to let Peter through. And now he was at no massive iron gate, but at the humble door of a very humble dwelling— and he continued knocking Had this chapter been a medieval legend, you would have had that cottage door fly open also. But the Book of Acts is no Arabian Nights: it is true to experience, and it is true to character. For sometimes the massive gates which we have dreaded fly open at the touch of God when we reach them, and the little doors are the hardest to get through. That is why I say a touch like this shows Peter as a consecrated man. He had been exalted up to heaven, and difficulties had vanished from his path. And now he was back again among life's obstacles, and the street doors that everybody knows— and he continued knocking.

=========================See Page 3

[nChrist]

The Grace of Continuance - Page 3
by George H. Morrison

Now unquestionably, as it was with Peter, so is it with every one of us. There is no such certain mark of consecration as just to return like that to common levels. We too, like Peter, have our hours of vision. We have our seasons when the heavens are opened. We have our mornings when we see the angels in the light that never was on sea or land. It may be in church— it may be in the country; it may be when love comes in and sings her music; it may be when someone very dear is taken, and the heart is emptier than the home. In such an hour as that we are like Peter. The angels are never far away. In such an hour as that, whether for weal or woe, we see our visions and we dream our dreams. And then we have to go back to common doors where there is no mystery of blood upon the lintel, and the question is what shall we do then? There are some who are too unsettled to do anything. They could have knocked yesterday; they cannot knock today. They have lost all interest in common tasks, and the dreary round of duty is unbearable. But he who is consecrated as Simon Peter was through the pardoning and restoring love of Christ— he will continue knocking. He will be a better father to his children. He will be a more chivalrous brother to his sisters. Deepened by sorrow, purified by love, he will go with a faithful heart to his day's drudgery. He will continue knocking till the door shall open, and faces that he has loved will answer his in a fellowship where time and space are not.

____________________

George H. Morrison Devotions

Dist. Worldwide in the Great Freeware Bible Study package called
e-Sword by Rick Meyer: http://www.e-sword.net/downloads.html
Full Featured - Outstanding - Completely FREE - No Strings Attached

(The goal of Rick Meyer is to distribute excellent Bible Study
Software to every country on earth in their own language FREE
of charge, and that goal gets closer by the day.)
____________________

[nChrist]

September 29

The Stoning of Paul

And when there was an assualt made .... They were aware of it, and fled unto Lystra and Derbe, cities of Lycaonia, and unto the region that lieth round about; and there they preached the gospel— Act_14:5, Act_14:6-7

God's Purpose in Persecution

Driven from Antioch by the outbreak of persecution, Paul and Barnabas moved on to Iconium. There was a distance of some ninety miles between the two towns, and now they might reasonably hope to be at peace. Iconium was a fine strategic point. The Roman roads between east and west ran through it. Many a morning Paul would be wakened from sleep by the noise of some caravan under his window as it rolled westward with its eastern merchandise. And again it would be the tramp of Roman legions as they marched eastward along the military way. All this would set the heart of Paul a-throbbing Might not his word reach to the end of the world from Iconium? Paul might have settled at Iconium for years if God had not said to him, "This is not your rest." That is one purpose which persecution serves. It is God's way of bidding His soldiers march. Jesus was thinking of far more than personal safety when He bade His disciples flee from city to city (Mat_10:23). Just as the gale beats on the falling rain and drives it away till it falls on distant fields, so persecution, striking on the Gospel, carries it to unexpected spots. Paul and Barnabas had to fly from Iconium. It was the Jews who stirred up trouble again. The apostles were learning, in a very bitter way, how a man's foes are they of his own household. There is no foe so dangerous or so relentless as an old friend who has turned dead against us.

Into the Land of Wolves for a Purpose

About forty miles from Iconium lies Lystra in the wild and dreary plain of Lycaonia. Lycaonia means the Land of Wolves, and we can picture the desolate region by the name. I think that when Paul crossed the marches of that wolf-land he would remember the saying of his Master, "Behold I send you forth as sheep in the midst of wolves, be ye therefore wise as serpents and harmless as doves" (Mat_10:16). To Lystra, then, Paul and Barnabas fled, and there they preached. And at Lystra, by the power of Jesus, Paul healed the cripple. You could tell that the writer (Luke) had been a doctor by the fond minuteness with which he describes the disease. Most writers would just have said that the man was lame. But the physician made a much fuller diagnosis. The man was impotent in both his feet; he had been so from birth; he had never walked. Do you see how all the training we have had can be used in the long run towards glorifying God? Luke never thought of that when he was studying medicine; but the miracle is doubly vivid just because he studied. So every interest we ever had, and every pursuit we were ever zealous over, and every hobby that once fascinated us, no matter how childish or slight it may have been— all these, when we are Christ's, shall prove of service. It is the vessel full of water that becomes wine.

The People of Lystra Recalled the Legend of Baucis and Philemon

Now there was a legend very well known in Lystra, for the scene of it was that very region—it was the legend of Baucis and Philemon. The Lystran children used to gather around their mothers and beg for the story of Baucis and Philemon. Baucis and Philemon were two humble cottagers to whom Jupiter and Mercury had come disguised. The gods had knocked in vain at every other door, but these two lowly souls gave them a welcome. It is a sweet story, exquisitely told by Ovid; it was devoutly believed in the homes of Lystra. Many a mother would call her son Philemon with the prayer that Jupiter might come again. Who, then, were these two strangers in the town who had healed the lame man in such a marvelous way? Was not one of them august and kingly and the other all life and activity and eloquence? It ran like wildfire through the marketplace that here were Jupiter and Mercury returned. Paul did not understand what all the stir was. The excited people fell back on their own dialect. He felt as helpless as a Londoner would feel in the middle of a crowd all speaking Gaelic. But when a solemn procession halted before his lodging, and he saw the oxen with garlands on their heads, it flashed on him in a moment what was happening, and he and Barnabas sprang out to stop the blasphemy. Had it been Jews whom Paul was called to speak to, you would have had plenty of texts from the Old Testament. Had the crowd been an Athenian crowd, there would have been swift appeals to history and art. It shows the infinite tact of the apostle that with these rude folk he argued from the rain (Act_5:17). It was a sore disappointment to excited Lystra; the current of feeling very swiftly changed. We are not surprised a few days later to find Paul stoned and left for dead.

Paul Saw That the Cripple Had Faith

Now note, first, the keen eyesight of a saint (Act_5:9). Paul saw in a twinkling that the cripple had faith. There was something in the face of this poor sufferer that told the apostle that true faith was there. Our Savior was always on the outlook for faith, and Paul had caught this secret from the Master. There is nothing like love and fellowship with Christ for revealing the best points in a poor beggar's face. Next note, there is a meaning even in a raindrop (Act_5:17). It had often spoken to Paul of the Creator. And, lastly, mark (we cannot learn it too young) that today's sacrifice may be tomorrow's stoning. One day, with Jesus, it was "Hosanna"; a little afterwards, "Crucify Him, Crucify Him." And one day, with Paul, it was "He is a god"; a little afterwards, "Stone him and cast him out." Now I want no one to become cynical. The world is a kindly and happy and pleasant place. We are amazed as we struggle on through manhood at the loyalty and love that ring us round All that I want my readers to do is to set their affections on things which are above, not to rate very highly human praise, not to be greatly depressed by human censure. Had Paul been desperately anxious to please Lystra, I fancy that that stoning would have killed him.

____________________

George H. Morrison Devotions

Dist. Worldwide in the Great Freeware Bible Study package called
e-Sword by Rick Meyer: http://www.e-sword.net/downloads.html
Full Featured - Outstanding - Completely FREE - No Strings Attached

(The goal of Rick Meyer is to distribute excellent Bible Study
Software to every country on earth in their own language FREE
of charge, and that goal gets closer by the day.)
____________________

[nChrist]

September 30

The Baffling of the Spirit - Page 1
by George H. Morrison

They assayed to go into Bithynia: but the Spirit suffered them not— Act_16:7

The Circumstances of the Hindrance Were Not Clear but the Message Was.

Paul was on his second missionary journey when he was hindered thus by the Spirit of his Lord. He had made up his mind to go northward to Bithynia when somehow he was divinely checked. How the door was thus shut on him we are not told: it is one of the wise reticence of Scripture. Perhaps he was warned by some prophetic voice or visited by irresistible conviction. On the other hand, if one prefer it so, we may think of the pressure of circumstance or health, for Paul would never have hesitated to find in these the checking power of the Holy Ghost. Whatever form the prohibition took, you may be sure it was very dark to the apostle. Paul was not at all the kind of man who took a delight in being contradicted. When he had set his heart on going northward, not selfishly, but in the service of his Lord, it was a bitter experience to be so checked and to have the door shut in his face.

Paul Was Honored by Being Hindered

But the point to note is that though it was dark for Paul, it is bright as the sunshine of a summer morn for us. He was never more wisely or divinely guided than in the hour when he thought that he was baffled. What would have happened to him had the door been opened, and he suffered to go into Bithynia? He would have turned away home again through lonely glens with his back to the mighty empires of the West. He would never have landed on the shore of Europe, never have lifted up his voice in Athens, never have preached the riches of his Savior beside the Roman palace of the Caesars. Paul was a true Jew in this respect: he had no ear for the calling of the sea. He would a thousand times rather have lived in inland places than by the surge and thunder of the ocean. And it was only when every other path was barred that he was pushed unwillingly to Troas where for him and for Europe everything was changed by the vision of the man from Macedonia. He was checkmated, and yet he won the game. He was thwarted, and it led him to his crown. Eager to advance with his good news, there rose before him the divine "No Thoroughfare." And yet that hour when he was hindered so was the hour when God was honoring him wonderfully and leading him to such a mighty service as at his highest he had never dreamed.

We Are Sometimes Baffled That We May Not Be Beaten

Now I think there is something in that thought on which it would do us good to dwell a little, for all of us, like the apostle Paul, are sometimes baffled that we may not be beaten. It is very pleasant to have an open road and to accomplish what our hearts are set upon. We can all be grateful when our toil is crowned, and the dreams we have cherished for years are realized. But when our plans are thwarted and our wishes crushed and all we have assayed is proved impossible, it is not so easy then to hear the music or to cherish the spirit of the little child. I think there are few things sadder on this earth than what we call a disappointed man. He is so cheerless and apt to be so bitter;, there is such lack of luster in his life. And the pity is, it is not his disappointments that have made him a disappointed man, it is the way in which he has brooded on them and let them sink into his heart and soul. There are people whom no baffling can tame, people whom no thwarting can embitter. They believe in a love divine that disappoints and may be exquisitely kind in disappointing. And so when they are barred from their Bithynia and led to the cold shore where the waves break, they can be happy and expectant like a lover, as trusting that their service lies that way.

The Baffling of Our Childish Dreams

Now I shall try to illustrate that truth by thinking of some of the spheres in which God baffles us. And in the first place, let us dwell a moment upon the baffling of our childish dreams. Do you remember what you were going to be when you were a happy child in your old home? It was to be nothing commonplace, I warrant you, like the commonplace occupation of your father. There were seas in it and desperate adventure and distant lands and daring and excitement. There is not a ragged child in any street but has his childish vision of Bithynia. Ah well, the years have come and gone since then, and somehow or other that door has been shut. You are not a sailor, not a wild adventurer: you are a respectable and quiet-living citizen. And the point is that with the passing years you were never suffered to realize your dream, just that you might be led, almost unwillingly, to the very place where you could be of use. 'Twould be a poor world without the dreams of children. 'Twould be a poorer, if they were fulfilled. For everything splendid there would be a thousand candidates. For everything ordinary, not a single one. So we assay to go into Bithynia, and the Spirit suffers us not; and thus are we carried to those common tasks which build up character and help the world.

=======================See Page 2

[nChrist]

The Baffling of the Spirit - Page 2
by George H. Morrison

When God Blocks Your Maturer Hopes by Ill Health

Or think again of our maturer hopes, born when childish things are put away. It is easy to be glad when they are reached; it is less easy when the way is barred. Sometimes it is a matter of the health. It is the body that becomes the barrier. I have known an artist whose arm was paralyzed when he was on the verge of his career. I have known those who would have given anything to go and preach the Gospel to the heathen; but when they assayed to go into Bithynia, the Maker of their frame would not allow them. Sometimes it is a matter of plain duty. A man must yield his hopes for those he loves. All he has hoped for and striven for and longed for must go by the board at once for others' sakes. A father has died, or there have been reverses, and the preparatory years are now impossible, and a man has to turn himself to other work which is far away from the calling of his dreams. There is always something noble in the man who takes these hours quietly and well. His very life was in those cherished plans, and he is laying down his life when he discards them And yet remember that if God be God, ordering and opening and shutting, it is along the pathway of such baffling that you shall come to your place and to your power. You do not know yourself— God knows you thoroughly. He knoweth your frame and remembereth that you are dust. There are some characters that need the heightening of success. There are others that need the deepening of denial. So you assayed to go into Bithynia, and God— not fate, not chance— suffered you not; and for you as for Paul, life has been far richer since the bridle-road across the hills was blocked.

When We Are Baffled by the Inadequacy of Self-Expression

Again I like to apply our text to the baffling of our attempts at self-expression. How much there is that we desire to utter, yet in every effort to utter it, are thwarted. It may be some thought that swiftly flashed on us, thrilling us with a truth unfelt before. It may be some comfort we are fain to give to those who are sorrowful and weary-hearted. Or it may be some deep experience of God when He meets us in the secret of the soul and in His lovingkindness speaks to us in another voice than He uses to the world. How powerless we have all felt in times like these to give expression the thoughts within us. We cannot grasp them or clothe them in fit speech or body them forth that others may be helped. And what I want to impress on you is this: that in such baffling of our desire for utterance there may be more than the stammering of the tongue; there may be the wisdom and the love of heaven. If a man could tell abroad all that he felt, before long he would cease to feel. It would be very perilous if we had the power to voice all that is deepest in the soul. For God has His secrets with every human heart, and in the silence of that heart they must be cherished, nor will He ever suffer us to utter them lest they should be tarnished in the telling. Never be discouraged if you can find no words to tell all that is deepest in your being, When you are baffled in your attempt to reach it, it may be God who keeps you from Bithynia. For in the deepest life there must be silence—the silence as of the mountain and the glen— and the awaiting of that perfect fellowship which shall be ours in the gladness of eternity.

The Baffling of the Cravings of the Heart

Once again, may we not trace our text in the baffling of the cravings of the heart? There are people whose whole life is little else than a hunger and a thirst for love. They do not want to be rich— they do not envy the kind of life they see among the rich. They do not want to be famous— they have never felt "that last infirmity of noble mind." They are not troubled with intellectual questioning; for them the one thing real is the heart, and all they ask of God and life is this— someone on whom to lavish all their love. The strange thing is how often they are baffled in that divinest of divine desires. And the years go by, and they have many friends; but the one friend of their dreaming never comes. And that is always a very bitter thing no matter how it be fought against in secret, for while an unsatisfied intellect is sore, a heart unsatisfied is sorer still. They have assayed to go into Bithynia, but somehow the pathway has been barred for them. Others have reached the sunshine on the hill; for them there has been no highway thitherward. And yet how often, for all its hidden loneliness, that ordering is found to be of God who trains His nobler children very sternly that they may come at last to rest in Him. Paul never would have heard that cry from Europe had he been suffered to go where he desired. It was when he was thwarted in his longings that "Come over and help us" rang upon his ear. And there are many of God's servants still who never would have had their call to serve had the Spirit not darkly barred to them the way which led to the Bithynia of the heart.

======================See Page 3

[nChrist]

The Baffling of the Spirit - Page 3
by George H. Morrison

The Baffling of Our Desires for Rest

In closing, may we not take our text of the baffling of our desires for rest? For as life advances rest becomes more sweet, and the comfort and the peace of life more dear. We ask for less and less as the years pass. That is always one sign of growing older. The land that we long for now is not a mountain-land; it is a land of quiet peacefulness and comfort. So we assay to go into Bithynia where we shall be comfortable and contented, and then comes God and bars the journey thither and says to us, "This is not your rest." He does it sometimes by the hand of sickness falling on the children whom we love. He does it sometimes by the hand of death, shattering the contentment of our days. He does it by conscience keeping us uneasy; by fear of tomorrow in our most sure estate; by the shame which visits us when we see other lives so strenuous and so gallant to the end. God uses all that to drive us from Bithynia and to send us onward to the shore at Troas. He blocks our way when we would settle here and urges us mightily to the beyond until at last a man lifts up his heart to things that are eternal and unshaken, and finds his rest where there is no more death and where Christ is at the right hand above.

____________________

George H. Morrison Devotions

Dist. Worldwide in the Great Freeware Bible Study package called
e-Sword by Rick Meyer: http://www.e-sword.net/downloads.html
Full Featured - Outstanding - Completely FREE - No Strings Attached

(The goal of Rick Meyer is to distribute excellent Bible Study
Software to every country on earth in their own language FREE
of charge, and that goal gets closer by the day.)
____________________

[nChrist]

October 1

The Gospel in Europe

And a vision appeared to Paul in the night; there stood a man of Macedonia, beseeching him, and saying, Come over into Macedonia, and help us— Act_16:9

Europe was Reached with the Gospel through the Vision of One Man

It was in the second missionary journey of St. Paul that the passage was made to our own coast of Europe. Kings have made the crossing with great armies; peoples have come pushing westward over the sea; but no irruption of Asiatic hordes, and no army bent on a world-conquest, has made such a change upon the life of Europe as did this traveler of our lesson. I think we all know how Paul found himself at Troas, and how, when there, the vision appeared to him. I think that among all the men mentioned in the Bible, there is none more familiar than this man of Macedonia. And then the voyage and the visit to Neapolis and the preaching at the riverside at Philippi — have we not known all that since we knew anything?— there is no page of history that we love more. What little beginnings the mightiest issues have! How insignificant is the start of mighty movements! It is good to think of Western Christendom today with its long record of saintly men and women, with its vast cathedrals and its countless churches, with its hospitals and infirmaries and asylums, with its innumerable charities, with its homes for the aged and the children, all of which owe their existence to the Gospel— it is good to think of that wonderful and rich life with its thousand activities that we call the Christian life, and then remember that we can trace it back to these few travelers on the quay at Troas. Do not despise the smallness of beginnings. The fate of a continent may be in one little boat. Behold how great a matter a little fire kindleth.

Visions Come Only When We Obey

Now three truths arrest me in this story. First, it is only when we obey that visions come. Scholars have disputed about the "region of Galatia" (Act_16:6), whether it is a great territory or a small one. But there is no dispute about a much more important thing, namely, that two wills are seen at work right through these verses. On the one hand there is the will of Paul saying, "I think I should go here; I must go there." On the other hand there is the will of God closing this door and that before the apostle. Of course there was no physical force exerted. If Paul had been weak enough to be an obstinate man, he could have got to Asia or to Bithynia nicely. But Paul recognized that the say must lie with heaven, and he yielded himself up in freest self-surrender. He was willing that his own plans should be shattered and that his schemes and dreams should vanish if God bade, and it was thus that he was led to Troas, and it was then he had his vision in the night. Now that just means that if we are ever to have visions we must walk along the path of self-surrender. We shall never see the best and brightest things unless (as Jesus says) we are pure in heart. If we are blindly and obstinately set on our own way, the likelihood is that God will let us have it. We shall go away into half-wild Bithynia, and perhaps we shall never be heard of again. But it is when we hold our own plans very lightly and are ready to yield them up to God, if need be— it is then that we reach our Troas and get our vision of a larger service than we had ever dreamed of.

The Vision Must Be Followed by Endeavor Immediately

Next, the vision must be followed by endeavor. There is one great word in the vocabulary of the Bible that would make an excellent study for our leisure. It is the word immediately. There were no laggards among the Bible heroes. Life was a great thing, and time was very precious. When the trumpet sounds and the call from heaven comes— look in the next verse and you will find immediately. So it was here. Paul was asleep when he had his vision at Troas. Self-surrender makes an easy pillow. It was in a dream that the man of Macedonia appeared, crying "Come over to Macedonia and help us." And I think I see Paul leaping from his couch, in the burning certainty that God had spoken, and sending Luke post-haste down to the harbor to see when the next ship was likely to set sail. "Immediately we endeavored to go into Macedonia." The vision must be carried out in action. All effort must be made loyally to fulfil what had come to Paul in the glory of the night. Now what does that mean for us? It just means this. We must interpret our bright gleams in instant duty. All that is highest comes to us in vision, and we must translate it into the common task. When we awaken to God, that is a vision; it is a vision when we first see Jesus as our Savior. It is in a vision that we first see life's possibilities and the way ahead of us and the cross we shall have to bear. And all life, if we mean to live it well, will be little else than the endeavor to carry out that vision through the dust and dreariness and song and sunshine of the years that are going to be our life.

In Spite of His Obedience, the Task Was Hard

Lastly, the endeavor often seems to contradict the vision. You note that it was a man who appeared to Paul. It was a man's voice that summoned him to Europe. And in the man's words there was a great appeal; it was as if Macedonia hungered for the Gospel. Yet there is no trace that Neapolis welcomed Paul. And the first convert was a woman, not a man. The first men whom we read of in the story are the angry masters of the poor neurotic girl. I have often wondered if Paul was disappointed. The work was so utterly different from the dream. He had seen in his vision the hands of Macedonia stretched out, and now they were indeed stretched out, but only to lead him to the inner prison at Philippi (Act_16:24). It was a strange and startling contradiction. A weakling would have been tempted to deny the vision. But Paul was far too faithful to despair, and we see now that God was in it all. So when the vision of Jesus comes to us, and we set out to do some little service for Him, there will not be a task and there will not be a day in which the vision will not be contradicted. Our service may not turn out as we hoped; our prayers may not be answered as we wished; we may get no welcome from those who seemed to call us; we may look for liberty and find a prison house. But God makes no mistake. The work is His. He can transmute our failures into tomorrow's triumphs. When the dawn of the cloudless morning breaks above us, we shall waken to find He hath done all things well.

____________________

George H. Morrison Devotions

Dist. Worldwide in the Great Freeware Bible Study package called
e-Sword by Rick Meyer: http://www.e-sword.net/downloads.html
Full Featured - Outstanding - Completely FREE - No Strings Attached

(The goal of Rick Meyer is to distribute excellent Bible Study
Software to every country on earth in their own language FREE
of charge, and that goal gets closer by the day.)
____________________