When the visiting speaker said, “No one amongst us need be lonely”, and went on to show why, we quickly realised that the thought reflected his recent experiences while touring through the great wide open spaces of our Australian inland country. This is the land where settlements are few and very far between, wherein the traveller hears and sees little more than the bird life and occasional bushland animals.
But why introduce such an apparently unessential topic in a Sunday exhortation to members of a large city ecclesia? They do not live in isolation, where the emotional experience of loneliness is reckoned as unavoidable in the harsh circumstances. And, in any case, there is radio and television to give you the world’s activities and amusements, at any time, anywhere. So why should anyone be lonely?
Our further reflections brought conviction that the topic held something vital for every one of us—everywhere.
But for the great majority of people the preference will be for “distraction” rather than to endure being alone with themselves. No normal person would choose to be continually alone and suffer the pangs of loneliness; a condition that could have a devastating effect on the mind and spirit, providing a fertile ground for discouragement and entry of temptations.
The danger is real, and calls for the helpful introduction of understanding, sympathetic fellowship from those able to provide it.
As separateness from all ungodliness is an essential condition with children of God it follows that “being alone” is a normal situation; which is true of most, if not in fact all, who are progressing towards the Kingdom of God. They must walk in “single file” as it is very few who have the boon of constant companionship, sharing their joys and sorrows.
Lonely people are not only those who live in isolated parts. They are found also going about their daily duties in the crowds of cities, but without close contacts, for it is “quality”, not “quantity”, that provides the congenial companionship.
And the lot is most trying of all for those who are alone in their own family, holding firm to the Truth against persistent opposition from those they know best.
But in whatsoever situation, it is all part of a necessary training for leadership in those who are going to inherit a place in the Kingdom of God.
We learn that from recorded examples of “faithful servants”: Abraham, who left all, but found God to be his acknowledged friend; Joseph, who remained true when outcast, and finally saved his brethren; Moses, a fugitive in a foreign land, but later to be the leader of his people; and above all others, the Son himself, who could live and stand alone, but knew his Father was always with him, and who obtained the Resurrection and New Life.
From instances in the life of Jesus, we are shown that benefits come from being alone, provided that one’s thoughts are attuned to the Almighty and His Word. Those who, in that spirit of mind and thought, step out of crowded ways to find a sanctuary in the quietness of bushland scenes, or seclusion of the seashore, return enriched and refreshed in body, mind and spirit.
On one occasion Jesus led his disciples to such a “lonely” place (R.S.V.), free of distractions, where contemplation of the eternal things of God banish all sense of loneliness.
All that has here been said is designed to show what vital, heart-activating truths were in the further words of the speaker, when he gave as the reason why: “For we have a Hope, and Christ is always present.”
The Stubborn Farmers Of Rosh Pina
Walk in the streets of Rosh Pina during the weekdays and you will not see a soul; they have all gone out at dawn to the distant fields and will not return till evening. The sun’s rays play on the hill tops, and the green fields and the ploughed land appear like a chess-board.
So it is during the week: silence, which is only broken when the farmers rise at dawn and go out to work and at sunset, when they return home. The fields are far from the village and are spread out over thousands of dumans (acres). There’s always a lot of work and little time. It is therefore not surprising that sometimes the farmers, in an effort to catch up with the work, continue after sunset, arriving home late at night, paraffin lamps in hand, “Where have you come from at this hour?”
The farmer laughs self-consciously: “Just back from work. The day is short. I’ve got 400 dunams (acres) to attend to, and then there are the cows and the poultry to be looked after . . .” Look at him in the light of the lamp, and you will see a face aged before its time, wrinkled and furrowed like his hand. His hair has begun to turn white. But he doesn’t grumble. He doesn’t worry. “Malesh” he says. “What does it matter – it will be alright in the end!”
But the farmer has a wife and children, brothers and sisters. They listen and sigh. They have heard this remark so often – day after day, year after year, and everything remains as it was – and the furrows in the lined face deepen, and the hair whitens . . .
“How long?” asks his family. There are 400 dunams (acres) of land, but no water for irrigation, and the land, is hard and obstinate and has to be coaxed to yield a crop; and finally, we sow in tears but we do not always reap in joy . . .
But the land is not alone in its obstinacy; the farmer has learned the law of stubbornness from it. On no account will he move from here.
The Origin of the Organic World – Part One