The position of present-day believers and followers of Jesus has something in common with the Galileans who saw his works and heard his words. On a particular occasion they had observed the impotence of his disciples to cast out the evil spirit of the man’s son who came to Jesus pleading his help. They saw him bring his child for healing, saw him convulsed while on the way and then, with a word, he was healed by the Lord and restored whole to his overjoyed father.
They had never seen anything like it before and were all amazed at the mighty power of God. Amid this amazement Jesus charged his disciples to reflect on what they had seen and heard, for, said he,
“The Son of man shall be delivered into the hands of men.”
They did not know what he meant and were afraid to ask him. Their minds were closed to such things.
The lesson of childlike humility which followed was an offset to their arrogant assurance of future greatness. They were unlettered in spiritual things and so presumptuous as to forbid someone else working in the name of the Lord because he did not recognize their authority. Jesus had a baptism to be baptized with and he turned resolutely southward to receive it. When the Samaritans refused hospitality because he was going to Jerusalem it was as though the ominous events ahead cast their shadows before them. This was too much for the disciples.
Their master had been affronted and should be revenged. “Let us destroy them for this,” they said in effect. He was their Lord and had given them powers above the common and they were appointed to high positions in his kingdom. Why not use these powers to vindicate their superiority over evil Samaritans? The indignity of it all required a corresponding rebuke. What better than to follow the Old Testament method? Such zeal! Such righteous indignation! They could think of nothing else. How up to date the story is ! The coming kingdom and their prominence therein must be accepted by all and this would help to ensure it. With what utter shame would they hear Jesus rebuke, “Ye know not what manner of spirit ye are of.” The Son of man came to save, not to destroy.
These words of Jesus would find a responsive chord in the ears of the onlookers who witnessed these remarkable experiences. He was not the autocrat heathen aspirant to fame that his disciples had expected him to be, and some were touched to the heart. One came and said to Jesus, “Lord, I will follow thee withersoever thou goest.” Did he ever think that Jesus had nowhere to lay his head and that very soon his only resting place would be a three-days’ stay in a silent tomb, placed there by the cruelty of those he came to save ? Encouraged by this, Jesus asked others to follow,—or be with him, as the word implies.
They were interested and said in turn, “Lord, I will follow thee, but—” There had to be a condition in their acceptance “Let me first . . .” How human are those words,—”Me first !” “My father has to be buried when he dies, and I must have a farewell party at home.” All these formalities—and the time required for them—must come first ; and then, when they were satisfied, they would follow ! Jesus and his calling must wait until these proper and seemly duties were performed. “Me” must come first !
Is this true of us? What can and shall we not do when we have served self and left a good impression ? We also have learned of Christ, have been with him in spirit in those Galilean days, on the hills and shores of the lake, and heard wondrous words of life-creating wisdom and seen deeds of healing that could be none other than the mighty power of God. We have become sure, confident, perhaps arrogant, of our title to high estate. As though we alone were the recipients of Divine favour and in consequence closed our hearts to others who were not “of us.”
This idea of sacrifice of self is not pleasant nor convenient. Why should we not do these proper things for ourselves first? “Is it not lawful to do what I will with mine own?” What is our own ? We are bought with the precious blood of Christ for God, and He is the proprietor of the earth and the fulness thereof ; so really we own nothing, not even ourselves. If we appropriate unlawfully and bind these things to us with guarantees and conventions, are we not turning our stewardship into a confiscated proprietorship ? Such a course is self-destroying, not self-assuring.
It is saving life to lose it—and who, in reality, wants to be so foolish to say nothing of being disloyal to our Covenant with God ? Do we know what manner of spirit we are of ? There are many other things beside burying and bidding farewell that insist on prior attention, but when we set aside the will of God to accede to them, we are guilty of idolatry.
“Thou shalt have no other Gods before Me”. This sets aside as subordinate, all that we have made dear and vital by undue attention resulting in a restriction of our capacity for God-likeness and inducing narrowness of spirit. We must not stop short of reality and fasten upon substitutes. No-one can replace God in our lives. They—however pleasant and desirable—cannot be more than contributory to our principal devotions. Undue attention may be given to a child, a parent, a prominent worker or leader, an ecclesia, a creed or the organisation itself.
It may be our own personal achievements, or larger learning faculty—and an appearance, our position or our hidden hoardings or appetites upon which our secret devotions are spent. All these are idols, the sooner we surrender them the sooner we shall discover the form and reality of our faith in God. He must be first in all things and He will brook no rival. The amazing love He has revealed in Jesus is more than sufficient to save us from this folly, if only we give ourselves unreservedly to it.
If the disciples, who actually saw the Lord and really heard his words were guilty of this, is it likely that we, so long removed from them, shall be immune? The idolators in Jesus’ day said—”We be Abraham’s seed and were never in bondage to any man.” It was worse than that, they were in bondage to themselves. The idols we serve will fail, as all human things must, and when they totter, what have we left? More than one has left the faith through the fallibility of his idol and the disillusionment has been tragic. The words of Jesus ring and reverberate in our listening ears—”Follow me.” When we say, “Yes, Lord, I will follow thee whithersoever thou goest,” we shall be able to do so when, and only when, we have foregone our idols and vested our lives, wholly and altogether in him.
These patently selfish excuses that surreptitiously intervene to detach us from paying our dues to God, will not stand us in much stead when we are weighed in the balance of life. Why do we profess belief in God when we have the greatest belief in ourselves? Will the call of Jesus through the lonely and sad, the aged and weary, the frustrated and misunderstood and the unintentionally wayward leave us unmoved and self-centred, ready to applaud others who respond, as long as we are not inconvenienced or our own psuedo urgent calls not interfered with? This is only play-acting righteousness.
We may find secret glee in serving ourselves, but the peace and joy of selfless service to God is greater, lasts longer and needs no concealment. Jesus set aside all conditions of self to effect our salvation ; and our co-operation with him now must be of the same order. The inner sense of shame and unrest of conscience proves the futility and fatality of self-worship.
There must be no other gods, for God is jealous of His honour and will be sanctified in all who draw near Him. This must be our thought when the call for service comes. In whatever form or sphere it directs, there must be no insistence on prior engagements or personal inconveniences of any kind. They neutralise our single-hearted devotion. The our besetting sin will be purged, like th prophets ; and when God calls “Whom shal we send and who will go for us ?”—whatever wherever or to whoever it may be, we shall repl in spontaneous loving joy—”Here am I—send me !” The rivals will have gone and we shall have no other God before God.
We must not worship idols. Some do this within their profession of religion. The worship, for instance, a favourite speaker and pin their faith in him. If he stays steady on his pedestal, then the idol worship remains steady. If he wobbles, or perhaps worse, falls, then the faith goes down with him. All have been guilty of this in more or less degree, but some have grown wiser.
We imitate an idol as long as our self-deception remains. When it fails, our faith is shattered and in some cases has never been recovered.
Too often this idolatry hides us from the only one that seeks and deserves our worship. His call is crystal clear and the meaning unmistakable :—”Follow Me.”
He will never let us down—we can give ourselves without reserve to him for he will never fail. No-one else can presume to compete with him for our loyalty. Anchored to him and following his example, we can all have one upon whom our richest gifts of love and worship can be bestowed. The long and wide experience of the aged apostle in Patmos was behind his final admonitions when he said,—”Little children, keep yourselves from idols.”
One may fervently desire to serve God and yet find frustrations in interpreting the desire in service to our fellows. It is a sad experience to find every good intention resented through lack of understanding. It often discourages, and faith seems to be unavailing. We cannot love and serve others unless they let us do so. Jesus could not do mighty works among his own people because they had no confidence in him. They saw the natural aspect of a working carpenter who had the audacity to lift himself above them, but had no power to discern the significance of God working in him. Too often those who do not aspire to higher things crucify those that do on the gibbet of their envy and jealousy. “The master trod this way—Shall not his servants also ?”
Inexplicable though it seems, there is a heavenly significance to it. It is the alchemy of resistance. The human spirit cannot be refined by an effortless existence, it needs opposition to call forth its finest qualities. Many of the materials that minister to our comfort would be useless in their native state They have to be prepared, refined, made fit, by the process of resistance. The skin that makes our gloves needs to be cured, tanned, softened and dyed before it can be used. It is powerless to object—but we are not! When we do, we miss the purpose in the means of achievement and frustrate it. When we are submissive and enduring, the purpose of our preparation is assured.
Reflections on the Potter and the Clay