Evening Prayer December 12

Father in Heaven,
 
Holy are You, Lord God Almighty! You alone are worthy to receive glory and honor and power; for You have created all things, and by Your will they exist and were created. You are our Rock, our refuge, our shelter in times of storm. We stand in awe and wonder before You. There is no one nor is there anything that can compare with You. Before You all else pales into insignificance.
 
In these dark times, it isn't easy to remain loving or merciful to those who cruelly kill those who follow You, but nothing they do to us compares to what You endured for us, that we might have salvation and life. Give us the wisdom, understanding, and strength to be beacons of Your light in this dark world. Let us be Your instruments to bring Your love, mercy, and forgiveness to all who need it.
 
We stand before You, Lord, in complete surrender, offering our hearts completely to You. We thank You for Your merciful grace that saves and forgives us even though we are far from ever being worthy. Our hearts filled with gratitude, we love You, Lord, with every fiber of our being. We worship You, Lord, with our whole heart. We adore You, Lord, with all that is within us as we bless Your holy name.
 
To You who sits on the throne, be blessing, and honor, and glory, and power forever and ever.
 
Amen

Evening Devotion December 12

By C.H. Spurgeon
 
"They have dealt treacherously against the Lord." — Hos_5:7
 
Believer, here is a sorrowful truth! Thou art the beloved of the Lord, redeemed by blood, called by grace, preserved in Christ Jesus, accepted in the Beloved, on thy way to heaven, and yet, "thou hast dealt treacherously" with God, thy best friend; treacherously with Jesus, whose thou art; treacherously with the Holy Spirit, by whom thou hast been quickened unto life eternal! How treacherous you have been in the matter of vows and promises. Do you remember the love of your espousals, that happy time-the springtime of your spiritual life? Oh, how closely did you cling to your Master then! saying, "He shall never charge me with indifference; my feet shall never grow slow in the way of his service; I will not suffer my heart to wander after other loves; in him is every store of sweetness ineffable. I give all up for my Lord Jesus' sake." Has it been so? Alas! if conscience speak, it will say, "He who promised so well has performed most ill. Prayer has oftentimes been slurred-it has been short, but not sweet; brief, but not fervent. Communion with Christ has been forgotten. Instead of a heavenly mind, there have been carnal cares, worldly vanities and thoughts of evil. Instead of service, there has been disobedience; instead of fervency, lukewarmness; instead of patience, petulance; instead of faith, confidence in an arm of flesh; and as a soldier of the cross there has been cowardice, disobedience, and desertion, to a very shameful degree." "Thou hast dealt treacherously." Treachery to Jesus! what words shall be used in denouncing it? Words little avail: let our penitent thoughts execrate the sin which is so surely in us. Treacherous to thy wounds, O Jesus! Forgive us, and let us not sin again! How shameful to be treacherous to him who never forgets us, but who this day stands with our names engraven on his breastplate before the eternal throne.

1 Corinthians 1:25

 

For the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men.
1 Corinthians 1:25, Modern English Version (MEV)
 
It is very easy for us to become filled with pride, and our own self-importance, when we begin to believe that we are steeped in the knowledge of God, or that we are something special because we attract large numbers of followers in the meetings we conduct, the books we write, and so on, and so forth. It doesn't take long before we become convinced that it's all about us. To think people claim that God is foolish. His foolishness is nothing compared to ours.
 

The Victory Of Faith

 

By C.H. Spurgeon
 
“For whatsoever is born of God overcomes the world: and this is the victory that overcomes the world, even our faith.”
1 John 5:4
 
THE Epistles of John are perfumed with love. The word is continually occurring while the Spirit enters into every sentence. Each letter is thoroughly soaked and impregnated with this heavenly honey. If he speaks of God, His name must be love. Are the Brethren mentioned, he loves them. And even of the world itself, He writes, “God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son.” From the opening to the conclusion, love is the manner, love the matter, love the motive and love the aim. We stand, therefore, not a little astonished, to find such martial words in so peaceful a writing, for I hear a sound of war.
 
It is not the voice of love, surely, that says, “He that is born of God overcomes the world.” Lo, here are strife and battle. The word “overcomes” seems to have in it something of the sword and warfare–of strife and contention–of agony and wrestling. So unlike the love which is smooth and gentle, which has no harsh words within its lips–whose mouth is lined with velvet, whose words are softer than butter–whose utterances are more easily flowing than oil. Here we have war–war to the knife, for I read, “Whatsoever is born of God overcomes the world.”
 
Strife until death–battle throughout life–fighting with a certainty of victory. How is it that the same Gospel which always speaks of peace, here proclaims a warfare? How can it be? Simply because there is something in the world which is antagonistic to love. There are principles abroad which cannot bear light and, therefore, before light can come it must chase the darkness. Before summer reigns, you know, it has to do battle with old winter and to send it howling away in the winds of March–then shedding its tears in April showers. So also, before any great or good thing can have the mastery of this world, it must do battle for it.
 
Satan has seated himself on his blood-stained throne and who shall take him down, except by force? Darkness broods over the nations. Nor can the sun establish his empire of light until he has pierced night with the arrow sunbeams and made it flee away. Hence we read in the Bible that Christ did not come to send peace on earth but a sword–He came to set “the father against the son and the son against the father. The mother against the daughter and the daughter against the mother. The mother-in-law against her daughter-in-law and the daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law.”
 
Not intentionally, mind you, but as a means to an end–because there must always be a struggle before truth and righteousness can reign. Alas, for that earth is the battlefield where good must combat with evil. Angels look on and hold their breath, burning to mingle in the conflict, but the troops of the Captain of Salvation may be none but the soldiers of the Cross. And that slender band must fight alone and yet shall triumph gloriously. Enough shall they be for conquest and the motto of their standard is ENOUGH. Enough by the arm of the helping Trinity.
 
As God shall help me, I shall speak to you of three things to be found in the text. First, the text speaks of a great victory–it says, “This is the victory.” Secondly, it mentions a great birth–“Whatsoever is born of God.” And, thirdly, it extols a great grace, whereby we overcome the world, “even our faith.”
 
First, the text speaks of a GREAT VICTORY–the victory of victories–the greatest of all. We know there have been great battles where nations have met in strife and one has overcome the other. But who has read of a victory that overcame the world? Some will say that Alexander was its conqueror. But I answer, no. He was himself the vanquished man, even when all things were in his possession. He fought for the world and won it–and then mark how it mastered its master, conquered its conqueror–and lashed the monarch who had been its scourge. See the royal youth weeping and stretching out his hands with idiotic cries, for another world which he might ravage.
He seemed, in outward show, to have overcome old earth–but, in reality, within his inmost soul the earth had conquered him. It had overwhelmed him, had wrapped him in the dream of ambition, girdled him with the chains of covetousness, so that when he had all, he was still dissatisfied. And like a poor slave, he was dragged on at the chariot wheels of the world, crying, moaning, lamenting, because he could not win another. Who is the man that ever overcame the world? Let him stand forward–he is a Triton among the minnows. He shall outshine Caesar. He shall outmatch even our own lately departed Wellington, if he can say he has overcome the world.
 
It is so rare a thing, a victory so prodigious, a conquest so tremendous, that he who can claim to have won it may walk among his fellows, like Saul, with head and shoulders far above them. He shall command our respect, his very presence shall awe us into reverence. His speech shall persuade us to obedience and, yielding honor to whom honor is due, we’ll say when we listen to his voice, “‘Tis even as if an angel shook his wings.”
 
I shall now attempt to expand the idea I have suggested, showing you in what varied senses the Christian overcomes the world. A tough battle, Sirs, I warrant you–not one which carpet knights might win–no easy skirmish that he might win, who dashed to battle on some sunshiny day, looked at the host, then turned his courser’s rein and daintily dismounted at the door of his silken tent. Not one which he shall gain, who, but a raw recruit today, puts on his regimentals and foolishly imagines that one week of service will ensure a crown of glory. No, Sirs, it is a life-long war–a fight needing the power of all the muscles and a strong heart.
 
It is a contest which shall want all our strength, if we are to be triumphant. And if we do come off more than conquerors, it shall be said of us, as Hart said of Jesus Christ–“He had strength enough and none to spare.” A battle at which the stoutest heart might quail. A fight at which the brave might shake, if he did not remember that the Lord is on his side and therefore, whom shall he fear? Jesus Christ is the strength of his life–of whom shall he be afraid?
 
This fight with the world is not one of main force, or physical might–if it were, we might soon win it. But it is all the more dangerous from the fact that it is a strife of mind, a contest of heart, a struggle of the spirit, a strife of the soul. When we overcome the world in one fashion, we have not half done our work. For the world is a Proteus, changing its shape continually. Like the chameleon, it has all the colors of the rainbow and when you have worsted the world in one shape, it will attack you in another. Until you die, you will always have fresh appearances of the world to wrestle with. Let me just mention some of the forms in which the Christian overcomes the world.
 
He overcomes the world when it sets up itself as a legislator, wishing to teach him customs. You know the world has its old massive law book of customs and he who does not choose to go according to the fashion of the world is under the ban of society. Most of you do just as everybody else does and that is enough for you. If you see So-and-So do a dishonest thing in business, it is sufficient for you that everybody does it. If you see that the majority of mankind have certain habits–you succumb, you yield. You think, I suppose, that to march to Hell in crowds, will help to diminish the fierce heat of the burning of the bottomless pit, instead of remembering that the more fire wood the fiercer will be the flame.
 
Men usually swim with the stream like a dead fish. It is only the living fish that goes against it. It is only the Christian who despises customs, who does not care for conventionalisms, who only asks himself the question, “Is it right or is it wrong? If it is right, I will be singular. If there is not another man in this world who will do it, I will do it. Should a universal hiss go up to Heaven, I will do it still. Should the very stones of earth fly up and stone me to death, by God’s grace, I will do it still. Though they bind me to the stake, yet I must do it. I will be singularly right.
 
“If the multitude will not follow me, I will go without them. I will be glad if they will all go and do right as well, but if not, I will despise their customs. I care not what others do. I shall not be weighed by other men. To my own Master I stand or fall. Thus I conquer and overcome the customs of the world.” Fair world! She dresses herself in ermine, she puts on the robes of a judge and she solemnly tells you, “Man, you are wrong. Look at your fellows, see how they do? Behold my laws. For hundreds of years have not men done so? Who are you to set yourself up against me?”
 
And she pulls out her worm-eaten law book and turning over the musty pages, says, “See, here is an act passed in the reign of Nebuchadnezzar and here is another law enacted in the days of Pharaoh. These must be right, because antiquity has enrolled them among her standard authorities. Do you mean to set yourself up and stand against the opinions of the multitude?” Yes, we do. We take the law book of the world and we burn it, as the Ephesians did their magic rolls. We take her deeds and make them into waste paper. We rend her proclamation from the walls. We care not what others do–custom to us is a cobweb. We count it no folly to be singular.
 
When to be singular is to be right, we count it the proudest wisdom. We overcome the world. We trample on her customs. We walk as a distinct people, a separate race, a chosen generation, a peculiar people. The Christian behaves in his dealings not as the laughing infidel insinuates, when he sneeringly describes Mawworm, as saying, “Boy, have you sanded the sugar?” “Yes, Sir.” “Have you put the sloe leaves in the tea?” “Yes, Sir.” “Have you put red lead in the pepper?” “Yes, Sir.” “Then come to prayers.”
 
Christians do not do so. They say, “We know better, we cannot conform to the customs of the world. If we pray, we will also act, or else we are hypocrites, confounded hypocrites. If we go to the house of God and profess to love Him, we love Him everywhere. We take our religion with us into the shop, behind the counter, into our offices–we must have it everywhere, or else God knows it is not religion at all.” You must stand up, then, against the customs of mankind. Albeit, this may be a three-million peopled city, but you are to come out and be separate if you would overcome the world.
 
We rebel against the world’s customs. And if we do so, what is the conduct of our enemy? She changes her aspect. “That man is a heretic. That man is a fanatic. He is a cant, he is a hypocrite,” says the world directly. She grasps her sword, she puts frowns upon her brow, she scowls like a demon, she girds tempests round about her and she says, “The man dares defy my government. He will not do as others do. Now I will persecute him. Slander! Come from the depths of Hell and hiss at him. Envy! Sharpen up your tooth and bite him.” She fetches up all false things and she persecutes the man if she can. She does it with the hand, if not by the tongue.
 
She afflicts him wherever he is. She tries to ruin him in business. Or, if he stands forth as the champion of the truth, why then she laughs and mocks and scorns. She lets no stone be unturned whereby she may injure him. What is then the behavior of the Lord’s warrior when he sees the world take up arms against him and when he sees all earth, like an army, coming to chase him and utterly destroy him? Does he yield? Does he yield? Does he bend? Does he cringe? Oh, no! Like Luther, he writes “Cedo nulli” on his banner–“I yield to none.” And he goes to war against the world, if the world goes to war against him–
 
“Let earth be all in arms abroad,
He dwells in perfect peace.”
 
Ah, some of you, if you had a word spoken against you, would at once give up what religion you have! But the trueborn child of God cares little for man’s opinion. “Ah,” says he, “let my bread fail me, let me be doomed to wander penniless the wide world over. Yes, let me die–each drop of blood within these veins belongs to Christ and I am ready to shed it for His name’s sake.” He counts all things but loss, that he may win Christ–that he may be found in Him. And when the world’s thunders roars, he smiles at the uproar, while he hums his pleasant tune–
 
“Jerusalem my happy home,
Name ever dear to me;
When shall my labors have an end,
In joy and peace and You?”
 
When the world’s sword comes out, he looks at it. “Ah,” says he, “just as the lightning leaps from its thunder lair, splits the clouds and affrights the stars but is powerless against the rock-covered mountaineer who smiles at its grandeur, so now the world cannot hurt me. In the time of trouble my Father hides me in His pavilion. In the secret of His tabernacle does He hide me and set me up upon a rock.” Thus, again, we conquer the world, by not caring for its frowns.
 
“Well,” says the world, “I will try another style,” and this, believe me, is the most dangerous of all. A smiling world is worse than a frowning one. She says, “I cannot smite the man low with my repeated blows so I will take off my mailed glove and show him a fair white hand. I’ll bid him kiss it. I will tell him I love him–I will flatter him, I will speak good words to him.” John Bunyan well describes this Madam Bubble. She has a winning way with her. She drops a smile at the end of each of her sentences. She talks much of fair things and tries to win and woo. Oh, believe me, Christians are not so much in danger when they are persecuted as when they are admired.
 
When we stand upon the pinnacle of popularity we may well tremble and fear. It is not when we are hissed at and hooted that we have any cause to be alarmed. It is when we are dandled on the lap of fortune and nursed upon the knees of the people. It is when all men speak well of us that woe is unto us. It is not in the cold wintry wind that I take off my unguardedly strip off my robes and become naked. Good God! How many a man has been made naked by the love of this world!
 
The world has flattered and applauded him. He has drunk the flattery. It was an intoxicating draught. He has staggered, he has reeled, he has sinned, he has lost his reputation. And as a comet that dashed across the sky does wander far into space and is lost in darkness, so does he. Great as he was, he falls. Mighty as he was, he wanders and is lost. But the true child of God is never so. He is as safe when the world smiles, as when it frowns. He cares as little for her praise as for her dispraise. If he is praised and it is true, he says, “My deeds deserves praise, but I refer all honor to my God.”
 
Great souls know what they merit from their critic. To them it is nothing more than the giving of their daily income, Some men cannot live without a large amount of praise. If they have no more than they deserve, let them have it. If they are children of God they will be kept steady, they will not be ruined or spoiled. But they will stand with feet like hinds' feet upon high places–“This is the victory that overcomes the world.”
 
Sometimes again, the world turns jailer to a Christian. God sends affliction and sorrow until life is a prison, the world its jailer–and a wretched jailer, too. Have you ever been in trials and troubles, my Friends? And has the world ever come to you and said, “Poor prisoner, I have a key that will let you out. You are in financial difficulties. I will tell you how you may get free. Put that Mr. Conscience away. He asks you whether it is a dishonest act. Never mind about him. Let him sleep–think about the honesty after you have got the money–and repent at your leisure.”
 
So says the world. But you say, “I cannot do the thing.” “Well,” says the world, “then groan and grumble–a good man like you locked up in this prison!” “No,” says the Christian, “my Father sent me into want and in His own time He will fetch me out. But if I die here I will not use wrong means to escape. My Father put me here for my good, I will not grumble. If my bones must lie here–if my coffin is to be under these stones–if my tombstone shall be in the wall of my dungeon–here will I die, rather than so much lift a finger to get out by unfair means.”
 
“Ah,” says the world, “then you are fool.” The scorner laughs and passes on, saying, “The man has no brain, he will not do a bold thing. He has no courage. He will not launch upon the sea. He wants to go in the old beaten track of morality.” Yes, so he does. For thus he overcomes the world.
 
Oh, I might tell you of some battles that have been fought. There has been many a poor maiden, who has worked, worked, worked, until her fingers were worn to the bone–just to earn a scanty living out of the things which we wear upon us, knowing not that oftentimes we wear the blood, bones and sinews of poor girls. That poor girl has been tempted a thousand times. The Evil One has tried to seduce her, but she has fought a valiant battle. Stern in her integrity in the midst of poverty she still stands upright. “Clear as the sun, fair as the moon and terrible as an army with banners,” a heroine unconquered by the temptations and enticements of vice.
 
In other cases many a man has had the chance of being rich in an hour, affluent in a moment, if he would but clutch something which he dare not look at, because God within him said, “No.” The world said, “Be rich, be rich.” But the Holy Spirit said, “No! Be honest. Serve your God.” Oh, the stern contest and the manly combat carried on within the heart! But he said, “No. Could I have the stars transmuted into worlds of gold, I would not for those globes of wealth belie my principles and damage my soul.” Thus he walks a conqueror. “This is the victory that overcomes the world, even our faith.”
 
II. But my text speaks of a GREAT BIRTH. A very kind Friend has told me that while I was preaching in Exeter Hall I ought to pay deference to the varied opinions of my hearers. He said that albeit I may be a Calvinist and a Baptist, I should recollect that there are a variety of creeds here. Now, if I were to preach nothing but what would please the whole lot of you, what on earth should I do? I preach what I believe to be true. And if the omission of a single Truth that I believe would make me king of England throughout eternity, I would not leave it out.
 
Those who do not like what I say have the option of leaving. They come here, I suppose, to please themselves and if the Truth does not please them, they can leave. I will never be afraid that an honest British audience will turn away from the man who does not stick, stutter and stammer in speaking the Truth.
 
Well, now, about this great birth. I am going to say perhaps a harsh thing, but I heard it said by Mr. Jay first of all. Some say a new birth takes place in an infant baptism, but I remember that venerable Patriarch saying, “Popery is a lie, Puseyism is a lie, baptismal regeneration is a lie.” So it is. It is a lie so palpable that I can scarcely imagine the preachers of it have any brains in their heads at all. It is so absurd upon the very face of it, that a man who believes it puts himself below the range of a common-sense man.
 
Believe that every child by a drop of water is born again? Then that man that you see in the ring as a prize-fighter is born again, because those sanctified drops once fell upon his infant forehead! Another man swears–behold him drunk and reeling about the streets. He is born again! A pretty born again that is! I think he wants to be born again another time. Such a regeneration as that only fits him for the devil. And by its deluding effect, may even make him sevenfold more the child of Hell. But the men who curse, swear, rob and steal and those poor wretches who are hanged, have all been born again, according to the fiction of this beautiful Puseyite church. Out with it! Out with it! Ah, God sends something better than that into men’s hearts when He sends them a new birth.
 
However, the text speaks of a great birth. “Whatsoever is born of God overcomes the world.” This new birth is the mysterious point in all religion. If you preach anything else except the new birth you will always get on well with your hearers. But if you insist that in order to enter Heaven there must be a radical change, though this is the doctrine of the Scripture, it is so unpalatable to mankind in general that you will scarcely get them to listen.
 
Ah, now you turn away as I begin to tell you, that “except you be born of water and of the Spirit, you cannot enter the kingdom of Heaven.” If I tell you that there must be a regenerating influence exerted upon your minds by the power of the Holy Spirit, then I know you will say “it is enthusiasm.” Ah, but it is the enthusiasm of the Bible. There I stand. By this I will be judged. If the Bible does not say we must be born again, then I give it up. But if it does, then, Sirs, do not distrust that Truth on which your salvation hangs.
 
What is it to be born again? Very briefly, to be born again is to undergo a change so mysterious that human words cannot speak of it. As we cannot describe our first birth, so it is impossible for us to describe the second. “The wind blows where it lists and you hear the sound thereof. But you cannot tell from where it comes or where it goes. So is everyone that is born of the Spirit.” But while it is so mysterious, it is a change which is known and felt. People are not born again when they are in bed and asleep so that they do not know it. They feel it. They experience it.
 
Galvanism, or the power of electricity, may be mysterious. But it produces a feeling–a sensation. So does the new birth. At the time of the new birth the soul is in great agony–often drowned in seas of tears. Sometimes it drinks bitters, now and then mingled with sweet drops of hope. While we are passing from death unto life there is an experience which none but the child of God can really understand. It is a mysterious change, but, at the same time, it is a positive one. It is as much a change as if this heart were taken out of me and the black drops of blood wrung from it, then washed and cleansed and put into my soul again.
 
It is “a new heart and a right spirit”–a mysterious but yet an actual and real change! Let me tell you, moreover, that this change is a supernatural one. It is not one that a man performs upon himself. It is not leaving off drinking and becoming sober. It is not turning from a Roman Catholic to a Protestant. It is not veering round from a Dissenter to a Churchman, or a Churchman to a Dissenter. It is vast deal more than that. It is a new principle infused which works in the heart, enters the very soul and moves the entire man.
 
It is not a change of my name, but a renewal of my nature so that I am not the man I used to be, but a new man in Christ Jesus. It is a supernatural change–something which man cannot do and which only God can effect–which the Bible itself cannot accomplish without the attendant Spirit of God. It is something which no minister’s eloquence can bring about–something so mighty and wondrous that it must be confessed to be the work of God and God alone. Here is the place to observe that this new birth is an enduring change.
 
Arminians tell us that people are born again, then fall into sin, pick themselves up again and become Christians again–fall into sin, lose the grace of God, then come back again–fall into sin a hundred times in their lives and so keep on losing grace and recovering it. Well, I suppose it is a new version of the Scripture where you read of that. But I read in my Bible that if true Christians could fall away it would be impossible to renew them again unto repentance. I read, moreover, that wherever God has begun a good work He will carry it on even to the end. And that whom He once loves, He loves to the end.
 
If I have simply been reformed, I may be a drunkard yet, or you may see me acting on the stage. But if I am really born again, with that real supernatural change, I shall never fall away. I may fall into a sin, but I shall not fall finally. I shall stand while life shall last, constantly secure. And when I die it shall be said–
 
“Servant of God, well done!
Rest from your blest employ.
The battle’s fought, the victory’s won,
Enter your rest of joy.”
 
Do not deceive yourselves, my Beloved. If you imagine that you have been regenerated and having gone away from God, will be once more born again, you do not know anything about the matter. For “he that is born of God sins not.” That is, he does not sin so much as to fall away from grace–“for he keeps himself–that the Evil One touches him not.” Happy is the man who is really and actually regenerate and passed from death unto life!
 
III. To conclude. There IS A GREAT GRACE.
 
Persons who are born again really do overcome the world. How is this brought about? The text says, “This is the victory that overcomes the world, even our faith.” Christians do not triumph over the world by reason. Not at all. Reason is a very good thing and nobody should find fault with it. Reason is a candle–but faith is a sun. Well, I prefer the sun, though I do not put out the candle. I use my reason as a Christian man. I exercise it constantly–but when I come to real warfare, reason is a wooden sword. It breaks, it snaps–while faith, that sword of true Jerusalem metal, cuts to the dividing of soul and body.
 
My text says, “This is the victory which overcomes the world, even our faith.” Who are the men that do anything in the world? Are they not always men of faith? Take it even as natural faith. Who wins the battle? Why, the man who knows he will win it and vows that he will be the victor. Who never gets on in the world? The man who is always afraid to do a thing for fear he cannot accomplish it. Who climbs the top of the Alps? The man who says, “I will do it, or I will die.” Let such a man make up his mind that he can do a thing and he will do it–if it is within the range of possibility.
 
Who have been the men who have lifted the standard and grasping it with firm hand, have upheld it in the midst of stormy strife and battle? Why, men of faith. Who have done great things? Not men of fear and trembling, men who are afraid. But men of faith, who had bold fronts and foreheads made of brass–men who never shook and never trembled, but believing in God, lifted their eyes to the hills, from where comes their strength.
 
“Never was a marvel done upon the earth, but it had sprung of faith. Nothing noble, generous, or great, but faith was the root of the achievement. Nothing comely, nothing famous, but its praise is faith. Leonidas fought in human faith as Joshua in Divine. Xenophon trusted to his skill and the sons of Matthias to their cause. Faith is mightiest of the mighty. It is the monarch of the realms of the mind. There is no being superior to its strength, no creature which will not bow to its Divine prowess. The want of faith makes a man despicable, it shrivels him up so small that he might live in a nutshell.
 
Give him faith and he is a leviathan that can dive into the depths of the sea. He is a war horse that cries, aha! aha! in the battle. He is a giant who takes nations and crumbles them in his hand, who encounters hosts and at a sword they vanish. He binds up sheaves of scepters and gathers up all the crowns as his own. There is nothing like faith, Sirs. Faith makes you almost as omnipotent as God, by the borrowed might of its divinity. Give us faith and we can do all things.
 
I want to tell you how it is that faith helps Christians to overcome the world. It always does it homeopathically. You say, “That is a singular idea.” So it may be. The principle is that, “like cures like.” So does faith overcome the world by curing like with like. How does faith trample upon the fear of the world? By the fear of God. “Now,” says the world, “if you do not do this I will take away your life. If you do not bow down before my false god, you shall be put in yon burning fiery furnace.” “But,” says the man of faith, “I fear Him who can destroy both body and soul in Hell. True, I may dread you, but I have a greater fear than that. I fear lest I should displease God. I tremble lest I should offend my Sovereign.”
 
So the one fear counterbalances the other. How does faith overthrow the world’s hopes? “There,” says the world, “I will give you this, I will give you that, if you will be my disciple. There is a hope for you. You shall be rich, you shall be great.” But, faith says, “I have a hope laid up in Heaven. A hope which fades not away, eternal, incorrupt, eternally beautiful hope, a golden hope, a crown of life.” And the hope of glory overcomes all the hopes of the world. “Ah,” says the world, “Why not follow the example of your fellows?” “Because,” says faith, “I will follow the example of Christ.” If the world puts one example before us, faith puts another.
 
“Oh, follow the example of such an one, he is wise, great and good,” says the world. Says faith, “I will follow Christ, be conquered by all this, come, I will love you. You shall be my Friend.” Faith says, “He that is the Friend of this world, cannot be the Friend of God. God loves me.” So he puts love against love; fear against fear; hope against hope; dread against dread. And so faith overcomes the world by like curing like.
 
In closing my discourse, Brethren, I am but a child. I have spoken to you as I could this morning. Another time, perhaps I might be able to launch more thunders and to proclaim better the Word of God. But this I am sure of–I tell you all I know and speak right on. I am no orator–I just tell you what springs up from my heart. But before I have done, O that I may have a word with your souls. How many are there here who are born again? Some turn a deaf ear and say, “It is all nonsense. We go to our place of worship regularly. We put our hymn books and Bibles under our arm and we are very religious sort of people.”
 
Ah, Soul! if I meet you at the bar of judgment, recollect I said–and said God’s word–“Except you be born again you shall not enter the kingdom of Heaven.” Others of you say, “We cannot believe that being born again is such a change as you speak of. I am a great deal better than I used to be. I do not swear now and I am very much reformed.” Sirs, I tell you it is no little change. It is not mending the pitcher but it is breaking it up and having a new one. It is not patching the heart, it is having a new heart and a right spirit. There is nothing but death unto sin and life unto righteousness, that will save your souls.
 
I am preaching no new doctrine. Turn to the articles of the Church of England and read it there. Church people come to me sometimes to unite with our church. I show them our doctrines in their prayer book and they have said they never knew they were there. My dear Hearers, why do you not read your own articles of faith? Why, without a doubt, you do not know what is in your own prayer book! Men, now-a-days do not read their Bibles and they have for the most part no religion. They have a religion, which is all outside show, but they do not think of searching to see what its meaning really is.
 
Sirs, it is not the cloak of religion that will do for you, it is a vital godliness you need. It is not a religious Sunday, it is a religious Monday. It is not a pious Church, it is a pious closet. It is not a sacred place to kneel in, it is a holy place to stand in all day long. There must be a change of heart–real, radical, vital, entire. And now, what do you say? Has your faith overcome the world? Can you live above it? Or do you love the world and the things thereof? If so, Sirs, you must go on your way and perish–each one of you–unless you turn from that and give your hearts to Christ.
 
Oh, what do you say, is Jesus worthy of your love? Are the things of eternity and Heaven worth the things of time? Is it so sweet to be a worldling that for that you can lie down in torment? Is it so good to be a sinner that for this you can risk your soul’s eternal welfare? O, my Friends, is it worth your while to run the risk of an eternity of woe for an hour of pleasure? Is a dance worth dancing in Hell with howling Fiends forever? Is one dream, with a horrid waking, worth enjoying, when there are the glories of Heaven for those who follow God?
 
Oh, if my lips would let me speak to you, my heart would run over at my eyes and I would weep myself away until you had pity on your own poor souls. I know I am, in a measure, accountable for your souls. If the watchmen warn them not, they shall perish–but their blood shall be required at the watchman’s hands. “Turn you, turn you, why will you die, O house of Israel?” thus says the Lord. Besotted, filled with your evil wills, inclined to evil–still the Holy Spirit speaks by me this morning, “If you turn unto the Lord, with full purpose of heart, He will have mercy upon you. And to our God, He will abundantly pardon.”
 
I cannot bring you. I cannot fetch you. My words are powerless, my thoughts are weak! Old Adam is too strong for this young child to draw or drag, but may God speak to you, dear Hearts. May God send the Truth home and then we shall rejoice together, both he that sows and he that reaps, because God has given us the increase. God bless you. May you all be born again and have that faith that overcomes the world!"
 
Have I that faith which looks to Christ,
Overcomes the world and sin–
Receives Him Prophet, Priest and King,
And makes the conscience clean?
If I this precious grace possess,
All praise is due to You
If not, I seek it from Your hands;
Now grant it, Lord, to me."
 

Genesis 2:5

 

no shrub of the field was yet on the earth, and no plant of the field had yet sprouted, for the Lord God had not caused it to rain on the earth, and there was no man to cultivate the ground.
Genesis 2:5 Modern English Version (MEV)
 
*****************
 
Every plant of the field
The leaf
 
One of the most beautiful scientific generalizations was the result, not of the patient, persevering researches of the naturalist, but of the dreamy reverie of a peer.
On the meditative mind of Goethe on one occasion dawned the bright idea, that the flower of a plant is not, as is commonly supposed, an added or separate organ, but only the highest development, or rather transformation of its leaves--that all the parts of a plant, from the seed to the blossom, are mere modifications of a leaf. This one idea has done more to lift the veil of mystery from nature, and to interpret the plans and purposes of the Creator, than all the previous labours of botanists. It shows us order in the midst of confusion; simplicity in the midst of apparently inextricable complexity; unity of plan amid endless diversity of form. Thoreau, watching the leafy expansions of frost vegetation on the window pane and on the blades of grass, declared that “the Maker of this earth but patented a leaf.” He traced the leaf pattern throughout all the kingdoms of Nature. He saw it in the brilliant feathers of birds; in the lustrous wings of insects; in the pearly scales of fishes; in the blue-veined palm of the human hand; and in the ivory shell of the human ear. The earth itself, according to him, is but a vast leaf veined with silver rivers and streams, with irregularities of surface formed by mountains and valleys, and varied tints of green in forest and field, and great bright spaces of sea and lake. This, however, is a mere transcendental idea when thus applied to all the departments of nature; it is scientific truth only when confined to the vegetable kingdom. But the unity of which it speaks may be traced everywhere. All the recent discoveries of science, both as regards the forms and the forces of matter, have an obvious tendency to simplify greatly the scheme of nature, and reduce its phenomena to the operation of a few simple laws; and in this respect they have a profound theological significance. Amid these brilliant generalizations, we cannot stop short until we have reached the highest and sublimest generalization, and nature has led us by such great altar steps up to nature’s God. The theory of the leaf, as lying at the basis of the vegetable kingdom, requires more particular explanation. All plants are produced from seeds or buds; the one free, the other attached; the one spreading the plant geographically, the other increasing its individual size. Carefully examined, the seed, or starting point in the life of a plant, is composed of a leaf rolled tight, and altered in tissue and contents, so as to suit its new requirements. The real character of a seed may be seen in the germination of a bean, when the two leaves of which it is composed appear in the fleshy lobes or cotyledons which first rise above ground, and afford nourishment to the embryo. The bud, or epitome of the plant, which is physiologically co-ordinate with the seed, is also found to consist of leaves folded in a peculiar manner, and covered with tough leathery scales to protect them from the winter’s cold; and in spring it evolves the stem, leaves, and fruit--in short, every structure which comes of the seed. Further, all the appendages borne on the stem--such as scales, leaves, bracts, flowers, and fruit--are modifications of this one common type. Flowers, the glory of the vegetable world, are merely leaves, arranged so as to protect the vital organs within them, and coloured so as to attract insects to scatter the fertilizing pollen, and to reflect or absorb the light and heat of the sun for ripening the seed. Stamens and pistils may be converted by the skill of the gardener into petals, and the blossoms so produced are called double, and are, therefore, necessarily barren. The wild rose, for example, has only a single corolla; but when cultivated in rich soil, its numerous yellow stamens are changed into the red leaves of the full-blown cabbage rose. That all the parts of the flower, the calyx, corolla, stamens, and pistils, are modified leaves, is proved by the fact that it is by no means uncommon for a plant to produce leaves instead of them. We come next to the fruit, which, in all its astonishing varieties of texture, colour, and shape, is also a modified leaf; and it is one of the most interesting studies in natural history, to trace the correspondence between the different parts of structures so greatly altered and the original type. In the peach, for instance, the stone is the upper skin of a leaf hardened so as to protect the kernel or seed; the pulp is the cellular tissue of a leaf expanded and endowed with nutritive properties for the sustenance of the embryo plant; and the beautiful downy skin on the outside is the lower cuticle of the leaf with a sun bloom upon it, the hollow line on one side of the fruit marking the union between the two edges of the leaf. So also in the apple; the parchment-like core is the upper surface of the leaf, and the flesh is the cellular tissue greatly swollen; in the orange, the juicy lips enclosing the seeds are the different sections of the leaf developed in an extraordinary manner; while through the transparent skin of the ripe gooseberry, we see the ramifications of the leaf veins, conclusively proving its origin. In all the parts and organs of the plant then, from the seed to the fruit, we have found that the leaf is the type or pattern after which they have been constructed; and those modifications of structure, colour, and composition, which they exhibit, are for special purposes in the economy of the plant in the first place, and ultimately for necessary services to the animal creation, and even to man himself, to whom the sweetness of the fruit and the beauty of the flower must have had reference in the gracious intentions of Him who created them both. On the leaf itself may be read, as unmistakeably as on a printed page, its morphological significance. As the architect draws on a chart the plan of a building, so the Divine Artist has engraved on the leaf the plan of the organism, of which it is the only essential typical appendage. Each leaf in shape and formation may be regarded as a miniature picture, a model of the whole plant on which it grows. The outline of a tree in full summer foliage may be seen represented in the outline of any one of its leaves; the uniform cellular tissue which composes the flat surface of the leaf being equivalent to the round irregular mass of the foliage. In fact, the green cells which clothe the veins of the leaf, and fill up all its interspaces, may be regarded as the analogues of the green leaves which clothe the branches of the tree: and although the leaf be in one plane, there are many trees, such as the beach, whose foliage, when looked at from a certain point of view, is also seen to be in one plane. Tall pyramidal trees have narrow leaves, as we see in the needles of the pine; while wide-spreading trees, on the other hand, have broad leaves, as may be observed in those of the elm or sycamore. In every case the correspondence between the shape of the individual leaf and the whole mass of the foliage is remarkably exact, even in the minutest particulars, and cannot fail to strike with wonder everyone who notices it for the first time. Examining the leaf more carefully, we find that the fibrous veins which ramify over its surface bear a close resemblance to the ramification of the trunk and branches of the parent tree; they are both given off at the same angles, and are so precisely alike in their complexity or simplicity, that from a single leaf we can predicate with the utmost certainty the appearance of the whole tree from which it fell, just as the skilful anatomist can construct in imagination, from a single bone or tooth, the whole animal organism of which it formed a part. In connection with this general typical character of the leaf may be viewed its particular typical significance, as representing the three great classes into which the vegetable kingdom has been divided. That it is possible to determine from the leaf alone, or even from the smallest fragment of it, what position to assign to any given plant in our systems of classification, is surely owing to the fact that the plan of the leaf is the basis upon which all vegetation, as a distinct kind of life, has been constructed. There is no end to the diversity of shape which leaves display; almost every species of plant having a different kind of leaf. But it almost never occurs to us to ask ourselves the object of this variation of shape. We regard it as a thing of course, or refer it to that boundless variety which characterises all the works of nature, in accommodation, we proudly but foolishly suppose, to man’s hatred of uniformity. But observation and reflection will convince us that there is a special reason for it; that the shapes of leaves are not capricious or accidental, but formed according, to an invariable law, the council of His will with “whom there is no variableness or shadow of turning.” In the first place there is a morphological reason for it. The shape of leaves depends upon the distribution of the veins, and the distribution of the veins upon the mode of branching in the plant, and the mode of branching in the plant to its typical character as an exogens or endogens, and its typical character brings us back again to the leaf. When the leaf is simple, the branching of the stem and the blossoms is simple; and when the leaf is compound, all the parts of the plant are also compound. But besides this morphological reason for the immense variety of leaf shapes, there are also teleological and geographical reasons. Leaves are adapted not only to the typical character of the whole plant, but also to the character of the situation in which it grows. They are, moreover, exactly constructed to shade and shelter, or freely expose to the light and air, the plants on which they are found, and to transmit the dews and rains which fall upon them to the young absorbing roots. He who studies attentively and reverently the numerous wonderful modifications in shape and structure which the typical leaf undergoes, to suit the varied circumstances of plants, will be brought by this study, more closely than by anything out of the Bible, into the personal presence of Him who said, “My Father worketh hitherto, and I work.” I have often had a train of reflections of the most profitable kind awakened in my mind by simply looking at the common water ranunculus, whose white flowers cover the surface of many of our quiet rivulets in June, and observing that the leaves floating or the top of the water were round and broad, whereas the lower ones, immersed in the stream, were divided into a vast number of linear segments, so as not to impede the current or be torn by its force. Even in gazing on the common gorse or whin of our hillsides--a plant, apart from the golden glory with which the summer halos it, not very attractive to the lover of beauty--I have been often struck with the same adaptation to the tempestuous currents of the air, in its sharp needle-like leaves and stems--a proof of God’s care over the homeliest thing, giving more honour to that which lacked it. But feelings of greater interest still will be excited by the more wonderful adaptations which we see in the tropical plants growing in our conservatories. The mimosa, peculiarly exposed to injury, sensitively drooping its leaves at the slightest touch; the pitcher plant, holding up its leaf goblets filled with water to refresh it in the thirsty desert; the leaf of the Venus’ flytrap of North America, closing together on its prey by turning on its mid-rib as on a hinge; the leaf of the cactus growing on the dry plateaus of Mexico, fleshy and juicy, and having no evaporating pores in its skin, so that the moisture imbibed by the root is retained; the gigantic leaf of the royal water lily of South America, furnished on the underside with outstanding veins of great depth, acting as so many supporting ribs: these and a thousand other instances almost equally remarkable, that might be alluded to, attract the most careless eye, and in their strange variations from the typical form, disclose abundant proof of beneficent design. The colours as well as the shapes of leaves are wonderfully diversified, though green is the prevailing hue, and every varied shade of that colour, from the darkest to the lightest tint, is exhibited--and very beautifully, for instance, in the verdure of spring; yet the whole chromatic scale may be seen illustrated in the foliage of plants. Indeed, where it is possible to see specimens of the whole vegetable kingdom growing together, an autumnal forest would not exhibit greater varieties of coloured foliage. In some plants the leaves are as beautiful as the flowers of other plants: and these are now cultivated and grouped with great effect in our conservatories. A greenhouse full of beautifully foliaged plants, is as attractive as one stocked with gay blossoms. It is a remarkable circumstance, that when the leaves are dressed in bright crimson, or golden, or silvery splendours, the flowers are almost invariably sombre in hue, and insignificant in form and size. What purposes such beautiful leaves may serve in the economy of vegetation, we cannot in every case find out satisfactorily. It may be to absorb or reflect the light and heat of the sun in a peculiar way, or to guard the vital organs from injury by diverting attention from them. In orchids and other plants, the blossoms are gorgeously coloured and peculiarly shaped, in order to attract insects, without whose agency the species could not be fertilized or propagated. But in plants where the foliage is large and beautiful, and the flower minute and sombre, it seems as if Nature wished to conceal her vital processes, lest they should be frustrated or injured by animals. Probably, also, the same law of compensation may be illustrated in the case of coloured leaves, as in the irregular corolla of flowers, where the odd petal has a different and much brighter colour, as in the common pansy. Do not these curious plants, that among their leaves of light have no need of flowers, resemble those lure human plants, that develope all the beauties of mind and character at an exceptionally early age, and rapidly ripen for the tomb? They do not live to bring forth the flowers and the fruit of life’s vigorous prime; and therefore God converts their foliage into flowers, crowns the initial stage with the glories of the final, and makes their very leaves beautiful. By the transfiguration of His grace, by the light that never was on sea or land, He adorns even their tender years with all the loveliness which in other cases comes only with full maturity. (H. Macmillan, LL. D.)
There was not a man to till the ground
The earth without a man
 
I. THE WORLD’S INDEPENDENCY OF MAN. The terraqueous globe, embosomed in those wonderful heavens, and filled with every species of vegetable and animal life, existed before man appeared.
1. The world can do without him. The heavens would be as bright, the earth as beautiful, the waves of the ocean as sublime, the song of the bird is as sweet; were man no more.
2. He cannot do without the world. He needs its bright skies, and flowing rivers, and productive soil, etc. He is the most dependent of all creatures.
 
II. THE WORLD’S INCOMPLETENESS WITHOUT MAN. Without man the world would be a school without a pupil, a theatre without a spectator, a mansion without a resident, a temple without a worshipper. Learn from this subject--
1. The lesson of adoring gratitude to the Creator. Adore Him for the fact, the capabilities, and the sphere of your existence.
2. The lesson of profound humility. The world can do without thee, my brother; has done without thee; and will do without thee.
 
III. THE WORLD’S CLAIM UPON MAN. “The earth He hath given to the children of men.” The nature of this gift proclaims the obligation of the receiver.
1. The world is filled with material treasures; develop and use them.
2. The world is fertile with moral lessons; interpret and apply them.
3. The world is filled with the presence of God; walk reverently. (Homilist.)
Observations
 
I. EVERY HERB AND PLANT UPON THE EARTH IS GOD’S CREATURE.
 
II. NOT ONLY THE MERCIES OF GOD IS GENERAL, BUT EVERY PARTICULAR BLESSING MUST BE TAKEN NOTICE OF AS COMING FROM GOD.
 
III. THAT WHICH IS BROUGHT TO PASS WITHOUT ORDINARY MEANS, MUST NEEDS BE WROUGHT BY THE HAND AND POWER OF GOD HIMSELF.
 
IV. THERE CAN BE NO RAIN ON THE EARTH UNLESS GOD SEND IT.
 
V. IT IS BY RAIN FROM HEAVEN THAT ALL THE HERBS AND PLANTS ON THE FACE OF THE EARTH DO GROW AND ARE NOURISHED.
 
VI. THOUGH GOD BE PLEASED TO MAKE USE OF MAN’S LABOUR IN PRODUCING AND CHERISHING THE FRUITS OF THE EARTH, YET HE CAN INCREASE AND PRESERVE THEM WITHOUT IT.
 
VII. THOUGH THE FRUITFULNESS OF THE EARTH COME ONLY BY GOD’S BLESSING, YET THE LABOUR OF MAN IS REQUIRED AS THE ORDINARY MEANS TO FURTHER IT. (J. White.)
Observations
 
I. GOD WANTS NO VARIETY OF MEANS TO EFFECT WHATSOEVER HE WILL.
 
II. GOD CAN, AND MANY TIMES DOTH, BRING THINGS TO PASS WITHOUT ANY MEANS AT ALL.
 
III. GOD’S POWER IN EFFECTING ALL THINGS IS NEVER CLEARLY DISCOVERED UNTIL ALL MEANS BE REMOVED.
 
IV. EVERY CREATURE OUGHT IN AN ESPECIAL MANNER TO BE USEFUL UNTO THAT FROM WHENCE IT IS PRODUCED. (J. White.)
A gardener wanted
Here begins that great system of Divine and human cooperation which is still in progress. There were trees, plants, herbs, and flowers, but a gardener was wanted to get out of the earth everything that the earth could yield. By planting, and transplanting, and replanting, you may turn a coarse tree into a rare botanical specimen,--you may refine it by development. So man got something for his own pains, and became a sort of secondary creator! This was also too much for him. He began to think that he had done nearly everything himself, quite forgetting who gave him the germs, the tools, the skill, and the time. It is so easy for you junior partners in old city firms to think that the “house” would have been nowhere if you had not gone into partnership! But really and truly, odd as it may seem, there was a “house” before you took it up and glorified it. What a chance had man in beginning life as a gardener! Beginning life in the open sunny air, without even a hothouse to try his temper! Surely he ought to have done something better than he did. The air was pure, the climate was bright, the soil was kindly: you had but to “tickle it with a spade and it laughed in flowers.” And a river in the grounds! Woe to those who have their water far to fetch! But here in the garden is the stream, so broad that at the moment it is liberated from the sacred place it divides itself into four evangelists, carrying everywhere the odours of Eden and the offer of kindly help. Surely, then, man was well housed to begin with. He did not begin life as a beggar. He farmed his own God-given land, without disease, or disability, or taxation to fret him; yet what did he make of the fruitful inheritance? Did the roots turn to poison in his mouth, and the flowers hang their heads in shame when his shadow fell on them? We shall see. (J. Parker, D. D.)
Biblical Illustrator, edited by Joseph S. Exell M.A.
 

Morning Devotion December 12

By C.H. Spurgeon
 
"His ways are everlasting." — Hab_3:6
 
What he hath done at one time, he will do yet again. Man's ways are variable, but God's ways are everlasting. There are many reasons for this most comforting truth: among them are the following-the Lord's ways are the result of wise deliberation; he ordereth all things according to the counsel of his own will. Human action is frequently the hasty result of passion, or fear, and is followed by regret and alteration; but nothing can take the Almighty by surprise, or happen otherwise than he has foreseen. His ways are the outgrowth of an immutable character, and in them the fixed and settled attributes of God are clearly to be seen. Unless the Eternal One himself can undergo change, his ways, which are himself in action, must remain for ever the same. Is he eternally just, gracious, faithful, wise, tender?-then his ways must ever be distinguished for the same excellences. Beings act according to their nature: when those natures change, their conduct varies also; but since God cannot know the shadow of a turning, his ways will abide everlastingly the same. Moreover there is no reason from without which could reverse the divine ways, since they are the embodiment of irresistible might. The earth is said, by the prophet, to be cleft with rivers, mountains tremble, the deep lifts up its hands, and sun and moon stand still, when Jehovah marches forth for the salvation of his people. Who can stay his hand, or say unto him, What doest thou? But it is not might alone which gives stability; God's ways are the manifestation of the eternal principles of right, and therefore can never pass away. Wrong breeds decay and involves ruin, but the true and the good have about them a vitality which ages cannot diminish.
 
This morning let us go to our heavenly Father with confidence, remembering that Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever, and in him the Lord is ever gracious to his people.

Morning Prayer December 12

Father in Heaven,
 
Holy are You, Lord God Almighty! You alone are worthy to receive glory and honor and power; for You have created all things, and by Your will they exist and were created. You are our Rock, our refuge, our shelter in times of storm. We stand in awe and wonder before You. There is no one nor is there anything that can compare with You. Before You all else pales into insignificance.
 
It is so discouraging to see and hear those who claim to be Your followers and Your children express hatred and even do violence against others simply because they believe differently than they do or are of a different political ideology. We often have to wonder, Lord, if they are reading the same Bible we are, because we see nothing in Your Word that tells us to conduct ourselves in that manner. It is easy to see why others may respond to us in kind. Help us to understand that, while we may disagree on many things, that is not a reason for us to fail to love our neighbors just as You have commanded. Teach us, Lord, to do what is right and just.
 
We stand before You, Lord, in complete surrender, offering our hearts completely to You. We thank You for Your merciful grace that saves and forgives us even though we are far from ever being worthy. Our hearts filled with gratitude, we love You, Lord, with every fiber of our being. We worship You, Lord, with our whole heart. We adore You, Lord, with all that is within us as we bless Your holy name.
 
To You who sits on the throne, be blessing, and honor, and glory, and power forever and ever.
 
Amen