(1) To one dealt with as Isaiah was dealt with, the very hearing, or as it were the overhearing by accident, of that voice of the Lord, "Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?" has all the force of a command. He must feel that the very idea of that Holy One, by whom he has first been so wonderfully humbled, and then lifted up, having work to be done, errands to be executed, lays him under an obligation to say, " Here am I." He has absolutely no alternative here, any more than if the most peremptory order had been issued. He is very thank- ful for the generous consideration which allows him to have the pleasure of volunteering; but he cannot on that account imagine for a moment that he has really any discretion in the matter, or any right to hesitate or hang back.
^ The right Christians are those who fear God, and work with a light joyful heart; because they recognize God's command and will. A good Christian peasant sees inscribed on his waggon and plough — a shoemaker on his leather and awl, a smith and carpenter on his wood and iron — this verse, "Happy art thou. It is well with thee." The world reverses this, and says, "Wretched art thou, it is evil with thee, for thou must ever bear and carry ; but happy are those who live in idleness, and have what they want, without labour." ^
^ What can God do for a lazy Christian, who is disloyal to His purposes and the needs of the perishing? While thus treating God and men there can be no deep personal spiritual life or growth in the grace and knowledge of Jesus Christ. Such people often say to me, " Each time you come to us you seem to be mightily enjoying the religion you preach to us." " Yes," I reply, " I do enjoy my rehgion, twenty-four hours per day and three hundred and sixty-five days per year." "Well," they say, "I am often so cold and dead that I hardly know whether or not I have any religion at all." When I ask them if they do any work for Christ and the saving and blessing
1 Luther.
ROMANS XII. II 295
of men, they usually answer me with a long-drawn-out "Well no." " Then," I always say, " you deserve to starve." ^
Come weary-eyed from seeking in the night
Thy wanderers strayed upon the pathless wold, Who wounded, dying, cry to Thee for light. And cannot find their fold.
And deign, 0 Watcher with the sleepless brow,
Pathetic in its yearning — deign reply: Is there, 0 is there aught that such as Thou Wouldst take from such as I ?
Are there no briars across Thy pathway thrust?
Are there no thorns that compass it about? Nor any stones that Thou wilt deign to trust My hands to gather out ?
0, if Thou wilt, and if such bliss might be, It were a cure for doubt, regret, delay — Let my lost pathway go — what aileth me ? — There is a better way.^
(2) And then, secondly, when his offer is accepted, and he is taken at his word, he is clearly now a servant under the yoke. He is not at liberty to decline any work that may be assigned to him, however difficult and laborious, however perilous and painful to flesh and blood. It may be different from what he anticipated ; not so pleasant, not so honourable. But what of that ? When he offered himself, he asked no questions ; he had no right to ask any. He stipulated for no conditions; it would have been un- belief to do so. Unreservedly he said, "Whatsoever be the errand, here am I ; send me." And he cannot qualify his offer, or attempt to make terms, now. Nor is this all. Not only must he undertake, as a servant, whatever work the Lord appoints; he must go through with it as a servant. He must feel him- self to be a servant, bound to do the work, be it what it may. He must feel himself to be a servant, from first to last, in the doing of it.
I asked Thee for a larger life:
Thou gavedst me A larger measure of the strife
Men wage for Thee; * T. Waugh, Twenty- Three Years a Missioner, 194. 2 jg^n Ingelow.
296 OUTWARD, INWARD, CHRISTWARD
And willed that where grey cares are rife My place should ba
I asked Thee for the things that are
More excellent; And prayed that nought on earth might mar
My heart's content: And lo ! a toilsome way and far
My feet were sent.
I asked Thee for a clearer view
To make me wise : Thou saidst, " It is enough for you
To recognize My voice" — and then the darkness grew
Before my eyes.
I asked that I mig]it understand
The way of pain: Thine answer was to take my hand
In Thine again ; Nor aught of all Thy love had planned
Didst Thou explain.
I asked Thee once that I might fill
A higher place: Thine answer was, " 0 heart, be still,
And I will grace Thy patience with some gift of skill
To serve the race."