"Them that honour me I will honour." (1 Samuel 2:30)
Do I make the honor of God the great object of my life and the rule of my conduct? If so, He will honor me. I may for a while receive no honor from man, but God will Himself put honor upon me in the most effectual manner. In the end it will be found the surest way to honor to be willing to be put to shame for conscience' sake.
Eli had not honored the Lord by ruling his household well, and his sons had not honored the Lord by behavior worthy of their sacred office, and therefore the Lord did not honor them but took the high priesthood out of their family and made young Samuel to be ruler in the land instead of any of their kin. If I would have my family ennobled, I must honor the Lord in all things. God may allow the wicked to win worldly honors; but the dignity which He Himself gives, even glory, honor, and immortality, He reserves for those who by holy obedience take care to honor Him.
What can I do this day to honor the Lord? I will promote His glory by my spoken testimony and by my practical obedience, I will also honor Him with my substance and by offering to Him some special service. Let me sit down and think how I can honor Him, since He will honor me.
You have allowed the key to rust! (John MacDuff, "The Mind of Jesus" 1870)
"He continued all night in prayer to God." Luke 6:12
"Jesus was emphatically "a man of prayer"
The Spirit was "poured upon Him without measure" — yet He prayed! He was incarnate wisdom, "needing not that any should teach Him" — yet He prayed! He was infinite in His power, and boundless in His resources — yet He prayed! How deeply sacred are His prayerful memories that hover around the solitudes of Olivet and the shores of Tiberias! He seemed often to turn night into day — to redeem moments for prayer, rather than lose the blessed privilege.
All His public acts were consecrated by prayer — His baptism, His transfiguration, His miracles, His agony, His death. He breathed away His life in prayer. "His lastbreath," says Philip Henry, "was praying breath."
How sweet to think, in holding communion with God — that Jesus drank of this very brook! He consecrated the bended knee and the silent chamber. He refreshed His fainting spirit at the same great Fountain-head from which it is life for us to draw, and death to forsake.
Reader! do you complain of your languid spirit, your drooping faith, your fitful affections, your lukewarm love? May you not trace much of what you deplore — to an unfrequented prayer chamber? The treasures are locked up from you — because you have allowed the key to rust! Your hands hang down — because they have ceased to be uplifted in prayer. Without prayer! This is . . . the pilgrim without a staff; the seaman without a compass; the soldier going unarmed to battle!
Beware of encouraging what indisposes to prayer — of going to the audience-chamber of God with soiled garments, the din of the world following you, its distracting thoughts hovering unforbidden over your spirit. Can you wonder that the living water refuses to flow through obstructed channels, or the heavenly light to pierce murky vapors?
Among men, fellowship with lofty minds — imparts a certain nobility to the character. Just so, in a far higher sense, by communion with God — you will be transformed into His image, and get assimilated to His likeness! Make every event in life — a reason for fresh going to Him. If difficulties in duty — bring them to the test of prayer. If bowed down with anticipated trial — remember Christ's preparation, "Sit here while I go and pray yonder."
Let prayer consecrate everything — your time, your talents, your pursuits, your engagements, your joys, your sorrows, your crosses, your losses! By prayer . . . rough paths will be made smooth, trials are disarmed of their bitterness, enjoyments are hallowed and refined, the bread of the world turned into angels' food!
"It is in the prayer-closet," says Payson, "where the battle is lost or won!"
What! is the reward for all that hard toil — death? Yes, death! Oh, extraordinary wages — but more astonishing still, that any should be found to work for them!
The death of the body, is but one result of sin. If sin had not found its way into God's fair earth — then death also would have been forever a stranger. Death is the dark shadow that sin casts. For six thousand years men have been receiving the wages of death. Death has passed upon all men, for all have sinned.
Think of the aggregate of sorrow that has come on this fallen world through death, the fruit of sin. Could all the groans that have burst from broken-hearted mourners since our first parents wept over their murdered son, be gathered into one — what a deep thunder-peal of anguish it would be! Were all the tears collected that death has caused to flow — what a briny ocean they would constitute! Let those call sin a trifle who dare — but to us it is clear that what could bring on man so dreadful a curse as death, must in itself be something unutterably horrible!
And yet mere physical death, is the least that is meant here. If this was all the Lord meant — if men when they die, die like dogs — there would be no occasion for the agony of soul we often have. But alas! alas! the death referred to here is a death that never dies!It is placed in contrast to "eternal life." It means eternal death; in another word, HELL! Here, poor sinner, are your wages — here is the result of a life's toil for Satan, HELL!
Let me say moreover, sin pays some of its wages now; it gives sometimes an installment of Hell on earth. The wretched debaucheeoften finds it so. Mark his haggard countenance, his trembling gait; follow him to the hospital — no don't — let his end remain secret; terrible are the wages he receives!
Look at the drunkard; he is paid for his sin in his home, until not a single stick remains to tell of a place that once was bright and happy. Have you ever seen a drunkard in delirium tremens? If so, you will never doubt about the wages he receives in this life. Hearken to his shrieking — listen to his raving as he imagines he is being dragged to Hell by ten thousand fiery snakes!This is all included in the wages "death;" and yet after all, this is nothing. If the only wages for sin were those received in a lifetime, we could be calmer. But oh, Eternity, Eternity is sin's long pay-day — and the wages paid is Hell!
Suppose a person were to go to a blacksmith and say to him, 'I want you to make me a long and heavy chain — I will pay you well for it.' The blacksmith, for the sake of the money, commences it; and after toiling hard for some time, finishes it. The person calls, and says on looking at it, 'Yes, it is a good chain — but not long enough; work on it another week, I will then call and pay you for it.' Encouraged by the promise of full reward, the blacksmith toils on, adding link to link. When his employer calls again, he praises him as before — but still insists that 'the chain is too short.' 'But,' says the blacksmith, 'I can do no more; my iron is all gone, and my strength too.'
'Oh then, just add a few more links, the chain will then answer my purpose, and you shall be well paid.' The blacksmith, with his remaining strength, and last few scraps of iron, adds the last link he can. 'The chain will now do,' says the man, 'you have worked hard and long; I will now pay you your wages.' And taking the chain, he suddenly binds the blacksmith hand and foot, and casts him into a furnace of fire!
Such are the wages of sin. It promises much — but its reward is damnation!
Servants of sin and Satan, behold your future doom! Be honest, and confess that your service is hard work, and bad pay. God forbid that in this large concourse of people, there should be a single one who will ever learn by bitter, eternal experience that "the wages of sin is death!"
