No doubt it is the Christian's privilege to see his Father's hand, and hear His voice, in everything; but he is not to be guided by circumstances. A Christian so guided is like a vessel at sea without rudder or compass; she is at the mercy of the waves and the winds. God's promise to His child is, "I will guide thee with Mine eye." (Ps. xxxii. 8.) His warning is, "Be not as the horse or as the mule, which have no understanding; whose mouth must be held in with bit and bridle, lest they come near unto thee." It is much better to be guided by our Father's eye than by the bit and bridle of circumstances; and we know that, in the ordinary acceptation of the term, "providence" is only another word for the impulse of circumstances.
Now, the power of faith may constantly be seen in refusing and forsaking the apparent openings of providence. It was so in the case of Moses. "By faith he refused to be called the son of Pharaoh's daughter," and "by faith he forsook Egypt." Had he judged according to the sight of his eyes, he would have grasped at the proffered dignity, as the manifest gift of a kind providence, and he would have remained in the court of Pharaoh as in a sphere of usefulness plainly thrown open to him by the hand of God. But, then, he walked by faith, and not by the sight of his eyes; and hence he forsook all. Noble example! May we have grace to follow it!
And observe what it was that Moses "esteemed greater riches than the treasures in Egypt;" it was the "reproach of Christ." It was not merely reproach _for_ Christ. "The reproaches of them that reproached Thee have fallen upon Me." The Lord Jesus, in perfect grace, identified Himself with His people. He came down from heaven, leaving His Father's bosom, and laying aside all His glory, He took His people's place, confessed their sins, and bore their judgment on the cursed tree. Such was His voluntary devotedness; He not merely acted _for_ us, but made Himself one _with_ us, thus perfectly delivering us from all that was or could be against us.
Hence we see how much in sympathy Moses was with the spirit and mind of Christ in reference to the people of God. He was in the midst of all the ease, the pomp, and dignity of Pharaoh's house, where "the pleasures of sin," and "the treasures of Egypt," lay scattered around him in richest profusion. All these things he might have enjoyed if he would. He could have lived and died in the midst of wealth and splendor; his entire path, from first to last, might, if he had chosen, have been enlightened by the sunshine of royal favor: but that would not have been "faith;" it would not have been Christlike. From his elevated position, he saw his brethren bowed down beneath their heavy burden, and faith led him to see that his place was to be _with_ them. Yes; with them, in all their reproach, their bondage, their degradation, and their sorrow. Had he been actuated by mere benevolence, philanthropy, or patriotism, he might have used his personal influence on behalf of his brethren. He might have succeeded in inducing Pharaoh to lighten their burden, and render their path somewhat smoother, by royal grants in their favor; but this would never do, never satisfy a heart that had a single pulsation in common with the heart of Christ. Such a heart Moses, by the grace of God, carried in his bosom; and, therefore, with all the energies and all the affections of that heart, he threw himself, body, soul, and spirit, into the very midst of his oppressed brethren. He "chose rather to suffer affliction _with_ the people of God." And, moreover, he did this by "faith."
Let my reader ponder this deeply. We must not be satisfied with wishing well to, doing service for, or speaking kindly on behalf of, the people of God. We ought to be fully identified _with_ them, no matter how despised or reproached they may be. It is, in a measure, an agreeable thing to be a benevolent and generous spirit, to patronize Christianity; but it is a wholly different thing to be identified with Christians, or to suffer with Christ. A _patron_ is one thing, a _martyr_ is quite another. This distinction is apparent throughout the entire book of God. Obadiah took care of God's witnesses, but Elijah was a witness for God. Darius was so attached to Daniel that he lost a night's rest on his account, but Daniel spent that self-same night in the lion's den, as a witness for the truth of God. Nicodemus ventured to speak a word _for_ Christ, but a more matured discipleship would have led him to identify himself _with_ Christ.