Читать книгу Luminescence, Volume 3 - C. K. Barrett - Страница 8

(Preached four times from Spring Head Mission 6/7/42 to Pleck 1/16/44)

Genesis 13.1–4 “And Abram went up out of Egypt . . . into the place of the altar which he had made there at the first: and there Abram called on the name of the LORD.”

Abram went up out of Egypt. Perhaps he never ought to have gone down into Egypt. Certainly, he ought not to have acted as he did there. At the call of God, he had gone out from home and kindred. The call of God was accompanied by the promise that Abram should be made a great nation and that the Land of Canaan should be given to him and his children. When he got to the promised land instead of finding a fortune he found a famine. Instead of trusting the Lord, of whom he said later, “The Lord will provide,” the patriarch felt that he must rely on his own resources. That is why he went down into Egypt. While there, he felt that to keep himself and his dependents alive, he must have recourse to craft and dishonesty. He had to learn that God fulfills His word and needs not man’s crafty devices. Abram was humbled in the sight of God and the Egyptians. He came away thinking very meanly of himself. His return to the altar at Bethel seems to be the acknowledgment that he had been wrong, that he should have remained in dependence on God.

RETURN AND REPENTANCE

His return was the expression of his repentance. Its candor and courage we can appreciate. It was his frank admission that he had erred. To repair, as far as possible, the error, he returned to the old place, the old practice. We have not always the courage to do that, though we are aware that the only hope lies in candid and straightforward repentance, in an open return to the things which should never have been abandoned. It is not surprising that Abram’s repentance took the form of return to the place of the altar. He “expressed his inward passion in the building of an altar.” The building of an altar had a definite meaning. It was the token and medium of his covenant with God, his confession of faith, the correction of his life. When he went back to the altar, after doubt and sin, we may say he was repenting of his sin, renewing his covenant, and reconsecrating his life. And that brings us to our subject, The Reconsecration of Life. There are times when we need to return to what the altar symbolizes, times that we reconsecrate ourselves to God.

Let us frankly begin at the beginning and confess that there is need for reconsecration after a fall. Abram had sinned. We must not minimize that fact, but the real question is how a person behaves after he has fallen. Abram went straight back to the old altar and knelt there in penitence and reconsecration. That is the only way of salvation. Too often, after one falls, through shame, or self-will, or pride, or fear, we do not return. That is when a fall leads to further sins. The way of repentance and confession is hard, but it leads to life.

David sinned grievously, but he sobbed out the contrition of his broken heart, and the joy of salvation was restored to him. Peter denied his Lord with oaths and curses, but he “went out and wept bitterly,” and Christ restored him. The other day I took up and reread Harold Begbie’s book Broken Earthenware. The Puncher, converted from the lowest depths of degradation, had a relapse. It was cold, his vitality was low, and a friend urged him to have a drink. Then the old demon of drink had him by the throat and he staggered through the streets drunk. The people did not mark or jeer, they were sorry he had fallen. But the door of his home opened and the Puncher came out. He had taken off his coat and put on his Army red jersey. He went straight to the Salvation Army Hall, knelt in the penitent form, and gave himself afresh to God.

Probably by the mercy of God we have been spared the need for a return like that, but for most of us there is need for reconsecration to the enthusiasm of earlier years. We look back to the zeal of our youth. The heart was young and leapt in chivalrous ambition. Maybe we were crude, but we were keen. We were in love with Christ and love cares little for the smiles and sneers of others. The kingdom came first with us and no sacrifice was too great to make for it. And now? We are inclined to smile rather cynically at the enthusiasm of our own youth and the youth around us. We are older now, and wiser, we think. We take things more calmly and let others, if they like, put passion and zeal into the work of the kingdom.

I could, if I wanted, make a parable of Abram’s experience. In Egypt, he had come into touch with an older and higher culture that would astonish him and make his own simple ways seem old fashioned and out of date. How crude and mean his altar would seem after the elaborate Egyptian temples. And we too have traveled and come into contact with more elaborate schemes of life and worship. We have elaborated our theology into philosophy and really you cannot expect educated men and women to believe the things that are sufficient for ignorant men and women. We want something weightier, more elaborate in ritual, more exquisite in music. Even the old chapel with its old enthusiasm does not now attract us.

Or it may be that just a mood of sloth and indifference has settled down on us. It did the old monks and they called it accidie.2 We cannot explain it any more than they could. We only know that in utter contrast to the happy and abounding zest of earlier days we are like physical invalids who don’t know what is the matter, but they have no appetite and no strength, no joy in life. I cannot put the clock back, I do not want to try to. I thank God for the riches of knowledge, the wider experience, and the new methods. But if the new knowledge lacks the old passions, if what you call a broad religion has become very thin, there is only one thing to do, and that is to go back to the old altar and lay yourself and your gifts upon it.

RECONSECRATION AMID THE VARYING EXPERIENCES OF LIFE

Very often when we ought to make a special pilgrimage to the altar, we forget God. Life brings us not only expansion of thought, but enrichment of life. Some new joy comes to us as God’s gift. Love comes into life and someone is prepared to take us for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, until death do us part. That is a wonderful experience and ought to lead us to another altar besides the marriage altar. Too often falling in love is the beginning of neglect of the house and the service of God. God lays a little child in our arms and that brings wonderful joy. That ought to make us raise our Ebenezer and kneel in reconsecration, but often in our enjoyment of the gift we pass by the altar. It may be that to us, as to Abram, success and wealth come and it gives opportunity for a happier life. Abram rebuilt the altar, but we all know men whose spiritual degeneration began when they began to increase in the world’s goods. It need not be so, it ought not to be so. It will not be so if you take your wealth to the altar.

Sometimes the experience is of another color. Pain, bereavement, sorrow come into our lives. Often, they lead only to repining and retirement. We nurse our griefs in silent mercy. Bring your griefs to the altar and find consolation through reconsecration. That is the way into peace. When John Bright was left sad and lonely by the death of the wife who had gladdened his life for two brief years he dedicated his life to the repealing of the laws through whose operation wives, mothers, and little children were starving. Anna Waring did a similar thing. She received the sentence that she must spend her few remaining years in seclusion from the interests and happy activities of life. Retiring to her room, she came out next morning with the poem that is one of our favorite hymns. “Father, I know that all my life is portioned out for me, and the changes that are now to come I do not ask to see, but I ask Thee for a present mind intent on pleasing Thee.”3 And if the circumstances of our life are less dramatic, let us make each new experience the occasion of a new consecration.

NEED FOR RECONSECRATION AS WE FACE NEW TASKS

New ways of life bring new temptations and fresh opportunities. It is a great and altogether helpful thing to kneel before God as you face untrodden ways and new duties. A new life at a new school, starting out in business, joining the forces, bring us to a parting of ways and reconsecration is our duty and our safeguard. When God calls us to some new task in the church, to some new service, to some fresh adventure for the kingdom, let us give ourselves afresh to Him. Apart from Him we can do nothing, but all things are possible to dedicated men and women. You can put a sublime meaning into the simple words, “Consecrate me now to Thy service, Lord.”

Here is our great and gracious opportunity. Before us are the symbols of our Lord’s unchanging love. Here is the reminder of the cross where we first saw the light and the burden rolled away. Let the Communion Table stand for the altar and before it let us kneel in adoring love, singing gratitude, and utter consecration to our Lord.

2. This is the Middle English spelling of the Latin word acedia and ultimately it is a transliteration of the Greek word that means “negligence.” The spelling here is actually the Anglo-French spelling and goes back to the Medieval Latin form of the word.

3. This is a line from the hymn “Father I Know That All My Life” that Anna Waring wrote.