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A WARNING
AGAINST UNBELIEF
"Take heed, brethren, lest there be in any of you
an evil heart of unbelief, in departing from the living
God." -HEBREWS iii. 12.
THE contrast between the
third and fourth chapters of this epistle is very marked.
The former is like a drear November day, when all the
landscape is drenched by sweeping rain, and the rotting
leaves fall in showers to find a grave upon the damp and
muddy soil. The latter is like a still clear day in
midsummer, when nature revels in reposeful bliss beneath
the unstinted caresses of the sun. There is as much
difference between them as between the seventh and eighth
chapters of the Epistle to the Romans.
But each chapter represents an
experience of the inner Christian life. Perhaps the
majority of Christians live and die in the third chapter,
to their infinite loss. Comparatively few pass over into
the fourth. Yet why, reader, should you not pass the
boundary line today, and leave behind forever the bitter,
unsatisfactory experiences which have become the normal
rule of your existence? Come up out of the wilderness, in
which you have wandered so long. Your sojourn there has
been due, not to any desire on the part of God, or to any
arbitrary appointment of his, or to any natural disability
of your temperament; but to certain grave failures on your
part, in the regimen of the inner life.
The antipodes of your hitherto
dreary experiences is Christ, the unsearchable riches of
Christ; to be made a partaker of Christ: for Christ is the
Promised Land that flows with milk and honey, in which we
eat bread without scarceness, and gather the grapes and
pomegranates and olives of rare spiritual blessedness.
WILDERNESS EXPERIENCES. Never did a
nation occupy a prouder position than the children of
Israel on the morning when they stood victorious on the
shores of the Red Sea. The power of the tyrant had been
broken by a series of marvelous miracles. The chivalry of
Egypt had sunk as lead in the mighty waters of death. And
as the sun rose behind the mountains of Edom, and struck a
flashing pathway across the burnished mirror of the sea,
it revealed long lines of corpses washed up to the water's
edge. Behind, Egypt left forever. Above, the fleecy cloud,
chariot of God, tabernacle for his presence. Before, the
Land of Promise. Many a man was already dreaming of
vineyards and olive yards, and a settled home, all of
which lay within two or three months' easy march.
But of those six hundred thousand men,
flushed with victory and hope, two only were destined to
see the land flowing with milk and honey; and these not
until forty weary years had slowly passed away. And what
became of all the rest? Alas! their carcasses fell in the
wilderness. Instead of reposing in some family
burying-place in the Land of Promise, their bodies were
taken up one by one and laid in the desert waste; the
sands their winding-sheet; the solitude their mausoleum.
It took forty years for them all to die. And to accomplish
this there must have been a high percentage of deaths. How
dreary those incessant funerals! How monotonous the
perpetual sounds of Oriental grief moaning through the
camp! What wonder that Psalm xc., written among such
scenes, is so inexpressibly sad!
The wilderness experience is
emblematic, amongst other things, of unrest, aimlessness,
and unsatisfied longings. Unrest: the tents
were constantly being struck to be erected again in much
the same spot. Theirs a perpetual weariness; and they were
not suffered to enter into God's rest. Aimlessness:
they wandered in the wilderness in a desert way; they
found no city of habitation. Unsatisfied longings:
hungry and thirsty, their soul fainted in them.
But how typical of the lives of many
amongst ourselves! Life is passing away so swiftly from
us, but how unideal! How few Christians seem to have
learned the secret of the inner rest! How many are the
victims of murmuring and discontent; or are bitten by the
serpents of jealousy and passion, of hatred and ill-will!
The almost universal experience tells of broken vows and
blighted hopes, of purposeless wanderings, of a monotony
of failure. Always striking and pitching the camp! Always
surrounded by the same monotonous horizon, sand, with here
and there a palm tree! Always fed on the same food, till
the soul loathes it! Life passes away amid fret and
chafing disappointment and weariness of existence, till we
say with Solomon, "Vanity of vanities, all is
vanity."
One of the scourges of the desert is
the sandstorm, when the hot wind is laden
with light powdery dust, which finds its way into eyes and
mouth and lungs; penetrating the clothes, stinging the
skin, and making life almost unbearable. An apt
illustration of the small annoyances, the petty
irritations, the perpetual swarm of gnat-like stings,
which invade our most comfortable circumstances, and make
us question whether life is worth living.
Then there is also the mirage.
When from afar green glades seem to attract the weary
traveler, who, as he reaches them, finds his hopes
deceived and his thirst mocked. Emblem this of the
disappointments to which they expose themselves who are
ever seeking for some earthly good to mitigate the
hardships and sorrows of their life, instead of seeking
the fellowship and blessed help of the living Christ. They
travel forward, thinking at every step that they are
nearing an oasis in their desert march; but, as they
approach, the fabric of their hopes fades away into the
air.
"We are made partakers of
Christ." These words may either mean that all
believers together partake of the fullness of Jesus, or
that they all partake with him of the fullness of God.
"Heirs of God, and joint-heirs with Christ." But
whichever be the true rendering, the thought is
inexpressibly helpful. Jesus Christ is our Promised Land,
and our Joshua to lead us thither. He gives us rest. In
him are orchards and vineyards, and all manner of precious
things. His comfort for our sorrow; his rest for our
weariness; his strength for our weakness; his purity for
our corruption; his ever-present help for our need. Oh,
blessed Jesus, surely it is the wonder of heaven that we
make so little of thee!
THE CAUSE OF THE WILDERNESS EXPERIENCE.
They could not enter in because of unbelief. See how
unbelief raises a barrier which shuts us out of blessing.
A fortune may have been left you; but if you do not
believe the intelligence and apply for it, you will not
profit by it. A regiment of angels may be passing by your
home, with blessings in their hands that might enrich you
forever; but if you do not believe the tidings that they
are on the march, you will not go out to greet or welcome
them. A noble character may rear itself in the
neighborhood in which you live, or the society in which
you move; but if you do not believe in it, you will derive
no stimulus or comfort from its genial and helpful
influence. So whatever Christ may be, and however near, he
will be nothing to you unless you have learned to trust
him.
There are three conditions in which
unbelief thrives with us, as with the children of Israel: they
murmured.
The first outbreak was in the
wilderness of Sin (Exod.xvi.), within a few days of the
Exodus. There was no bread. The provisions hastily brought
from Egypt were consumed. They had their kneading-troughs,
but no flour to knead. There was no organized
commissariat. "And the whole congregation of the
children of Israel murmured against Moses and against
Aaron in the wilderness: and the children of Israel said
unto them, Would that we had died by the hand of the Lord
in the land of Egypt, when we sat by the flesh-pots, when
we did eat bread to the full; for ye have brought us forth
into this wilderness, to kill this whole assembly with
hunger."
The second outbreak was at Rephidim
(Exod. xvii.). There was no water. The scanty desert
brooks were heaps of scorching stones, and not a leaf of
vegetation trembled in the burning sunshine. And again the
sullen sounds of discontent were heard as the people
muttered their belief that they had been brought out of
Egypt to perish there.
But the most serious outbreak occurred
shortly after they left Sinai (Num. xiii.). The green
hills of Palestine at last appeared in view, and spies
were sent forward to search the land. After forty days
they returned laden with luscious fruits; but they had a
story to tell of the strength and fortifications of the
Canaanites, which filled the people with dismay; and
"all the people murmured against Moses and against
Aaron, and said, Would God that we had died in the land of
Egypt." "Yea, they despised the pleasant land,
they believed not his word; but murmured in their tents,
and hearkened not unto the voice of the Lord. Therefore
he lifted up his hand unto them, that he would overthrow
them in the wilderness" (Psa. cvi. 24-26). A
murmuring, complaining heart is one which has already
commenced to disbelieve in the wise and loving lead of
Christ, and in which unbelief will thrive.
"They departed from the
living God." God is the Home and Source of
life. From him, as from a fountain, all things derive
their being, strength, and beauty. If Israel had remained
in living union with him, there would have been no failure
in their supplies; and there would have been sufficient
grace to make the people calm and restful and strong amid
these privations and difficulties. But they departed from
him. They thought they could do better for themselves.
They forsook the Fountain of living water, and went up
into the hills to hew out for themselves broken, i.e.,
cracked cisterns, which could hold no water. Of the
Rock that begat them they grew unmindful; and so became as
the desert tamarisk, which inhabits dull and uninhabited
wastes, in contrast to the tree whose roots are fed by
rivers, and whose arms shadow generations.
Let us ask ourselves whether there has
been any declension in our heart-religion, less
prayerfulness, less closeness in our walk with God, less
enjoyment in the worship of his house; for, if so,
unbelief is sure to manifest itself, as the fungus which
grows fat on the damp and foetid soil. Unbelief cannot
live in the sunlight of fellowship with God.
They failed to learn the lessons
of the past. They did not deny the past. They
would have told you with flashing eyes the wonderful story
of deliverance. But they did not trust God's love and
wisdom; they did not rely on his repeated promises that he
would most certainly bring them in as he had already
brought them out; they did not find in the past a
guarantee that he would not fail nor forsake them. At Sin
they should have said, "He gave us these bodies with
these appetites and needs: we may trust him to provide
them with food. 'Our heavenly Father knows that we have
need of all these things.'" At Marah they should have
said, "He gave us manna, surely he can supply our
thirst." At Paran they should have said, "God
has promised to give us the land; and so, though the
Canaanites are strong, and their cities walled to heaven,
we will dare believe in him." Instead of this they
cried, "He smote the rock, and the waters gushed out;
and the streams overflowed. Can he give bread also? Can he
give flesh for his people?"
As we pass through life we should
carefully store our hearts with the memory of God's great
goodness, and fetch from past deliverances the assurances
that he will never leave, neither forsake. Has he conveyed
us across the Atlantic to leave us to drown in a ditch?
Has he been with us in six troubles to desert us in the
seventh? Has he saved, and can he not keep? Has he
redeemed us from hell, and can he not bring us to heaven?
"His love in time past forbids us to
think He'll leave us at last in trouble
to sink; Each sweet Ebenezer we have in
review Confirms his good pleasure to help
us right through."
If we would guard against unbelief, we
should reinforce our faith by constantly recapitulating
the story of God's past dealings; and thus through the
stream of memory the uplands of our life will send their
deposits of blessed helpfulness to reinforce us in our
daily anxieties and perplexities. "The Lord hath been
mindful of us, he will bless us." "If, when we
were enemies, we were reconciled to God by the death of
his Son, much more, being reconciled, we shall be saved by
his life."
You were happy in your childhood; your
early days were set in a golden frame; but dear ones have
vanished, as the oak's shadow from the forest undergrowth,
and you feel unprotected and lonely: but the God of your
childhood will not be less thoughtful of you than in those
happy bygone days.
You have stepped out on the waters, and
as the storm threatens you, you almost wish yourself back;
but he who was with you in the fair haven will be as near
you when the winds rave and the waves lift up their voice.
You are on the point of exchanging the flesh-pots of Egypt
for the new land of Canaan, with its blessed promise; and
on the way, heart and flesh fail at the new and untried
scenes that daunt and perplex: but he who delivered you
from Pharaoh can shield you from Amalek; he who cleft the
Red Sea will divide the Jordan.
INSPIRED CAUTIONS. " Take heed
lest there be in any one of you an evil heart of unbelief
in departing from the living God." Unbelief is
the child, not of the head, but of the heart. It
is always well to know the source of disease, then the
physician can attack it in its citadel. If unbelief were
the creature of our intellect, we must needs meet it there
with argument; but since it is the product of a wrong
state of heart, of an evil heart, we must meet it there.
"This," says William Law,
"is an eternal truth, which you cannot too much
reflect upon, that reason always follows the state of the
heart; and what your heart is, that is your reason. If
your heart is full of sentiments, of penitence, and of
faith, your reason will take part with your heart; but if
your heart is shut up in death and dryness, your reason
will delight in nothing but dry objections and
speculations."
Guard against an evil heart.
If the heart were in a right condition, faith would be as
natural to it as flowers in spring; or as smiles on the
face of healthy, innocent childhood. As soon as the heart
gets into an evil state-harboring sin; cherishing things
which you would not excuse in others, but condone in
yourself; permitting unholy thoughts and desires to remain
unchecked and unjudged, then, beware! for such a heart is
no longer able to believe in God. Its head turns dizzy;
its eyes are blinded; and it is in imminent peril of
falling irretrievably.
Take heed, then; watch and pray;
examine yourselves whether ye be in the faith; prove your
own selves! Expose yourselves to the searching light of
God's Spirit. Cultivate the honest and good heart. Most of
the infidelity of the present day arises from man's
disinclination to retain God in his knowledge. More
skepticism may be traced to a neglected prayer closet than
to the arguments of infidels or the halls of secularists.
First, men depart from God; then they deny him. And,
therefore, for the most part, unbelief will not yield to
clever sermons on the evidences, but to home thrusts that
pierce the points of the harness to the soul within.
"Keep thy heart beyond all keeping, since out of it
are the issues of life."
Guard especially against
heart-hardening. Hard hearts are unbelieving ones;
therefore beware of ossification of the heart. The hardest
hearts were soft once, and the softest may get hard. The
chalk which now holds the fossil shells was once moist
ooze. The horny hand of toil was once full of soft
dimples. The murderer once shuddered when, as a boy, he
crushed a worm. Judas must have been once a tender and
impressionable lad.
But hearts harden gradually, like the
freezing of a pond on a frosty night. At first the process
can be detected by none but a practiced eye. Then there is
a thin film of ice, so slender that a pin or needle would
fall through. At length it will sustain a pebble, and, if
winter still hold its unbroken sway, a child, a man, a
crowd, a cart will follow. We get hard through the steps
of an unperceived process.
The constant hearing the truth without
obeying it. The knowing a better and doing the worse. The
cherishing of unholy things that seem fair as angels. The
refusal to confess the wrong and to profess the right. All
these things harden. Beware of the deceitfulness of sin!
Take heed to yourselves! Exhort one another daily.
Guard against a fickle heart.
This is the sin which this epistle especially opposes.
There are many around us who eagerly embrace a novelty;
but when the stress comes, as it always does, like the
settling of a house, there is a slackening off. We must
hold fast our boldness and the glorying of our hope
steadfast to the end. We can only become partakers of
Christ if we hold fast the beginning of our confidence
firm to the end.
We should see not only to our own
heart, but to the heart of our brethren; and exhort one
another daily, watching over each other, and seeking to
revive drooping piety and reanimate fainting hope. Let us
take heed to these things today. Now
is God's time. The Holy Ghost saith, Today. Every day of
delay is dangerous, because the hardening process becomes
more habitual. Today restore what you have
taken wrongfully; adjust a wrong, promote a right. Today
renounce some evil habit, some unhallowed pastime,
some unlawful friendship. Today reach out
after some further realization of the fair ideal whch
beckons you. Today leave the wilderness
forever, and enter by faith the Land of Promise.
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