Chapter III: Part 3

"Oh! well," some one says, "if you put the thing that way you'll have to count me out. I'm not winsome that way." Well, maybe you need not have bothered to say it. We could easily know that without your saying it. We are not winsome this way, any of us, of ourselves. But when we allow this Jesus Spirit to take possession of us He imparts His winsomeness. For the real secret of a transfigured life is a _transmitted_ life. Somebody else living in us, with a capital S for that Somebody, looking out of our eyes, giving His beauty to our faces, and His winningness to our personality.

"As the Stars."

The language used in the Scriptures for this sort of thing is full of intense interest. Some time ago I was reading in the old prophecy of Daniel. I was not thinking of this matter of winning men but simply trying to get a fresh grasp of that wonderfully fascinating old bit of prophecy. And all at once I came across that gem in the last chapter. I knew it was there. You know it is there. Yet it came to me with all the freshness of a new delightful surprise. "They that are wise shall shine with the brightness of the firmament; and they that turn many to righteousness as the stars forever and ever."[10]

Four times in those last two chapters of Daniel it refers to those that are "wise"; literally, those that are _teachers_. Those who have themselves learned the truth and are patiently, faithfully, winsomely telling and teaching others. The word used for influencing the others is full of practical picturesque meaning. "They that _turn_ many." As if a man were going the wrong way on a dangerous road. And _I know_ it's the wrong way. There's a sharp precipice ahead. But he is going steadily on, head down, all absorbed, not noticing where the road leads.

I might go up to him, and strike him sharply on the shoulder to get his attention, and say, "See here, you're going the wrong way; can't you see the danger ahead there? Come this way," with a vigorous pull. I have sometimes seen that done, in just that way. And if the man is an American, or an Englishman, or a German,--we're all very much alike,--he will say coldly, "Excuse me. I think I can take care of myself. Thank you. I'll look out for this individual."

Or, I might slip gently up to the man, and get my arm in his, and begin to turn, very gently at first, and turn, and turn, and then turn some more, and then farther around still, and walk him off the other way. You will have to get _close_ to a man to do that. Some folks never do. And you'll have to be at least half-way decent in your life to get close. Some folks never can. And you will need to be warm enough all the time inside, to melt through the icy cloak of indifference beneath which his heart may be wrapped up. But I can tell you this: the old world where you and I live is fairly hungry at its heart, with an eating hunger for turners of that sort.

And the promise of that old prophetic bit is this: "They shall _shine_." You know everybody wants to shine. It is right to be ambitious, with a right ambition. But if any of you are ambitious to shine in some other sky than this, in your profession, in social life or in some firmament lower than this, may I gently make this suggestion to you? Do your best shining _now_. Get on the brightest shining surface possible now. For this is your shining time. This is the sky-time for that sort of thing. It won't last long, I must tell you frankly. And at the end a bitter biting at your heart.

I am fond of watching a display of fireworks on a Fourth of July night. Perhaps the night is clear, the sky full of stars, bright and sparkling. A sky rocket is sent off. It goes up with a rush and a noise. There is a dash of many colored beautiful fire-stars. And a murmur of admiration from the crowd. For a few moments you can see nothing as you look up but this handful of fire-stars. The clear quiet stars beyond are eclipsed for a narrow circle of space, and for a few moments of time.

It doesn't last long. A small fraction of a minute at the most. Then it's all over. And all that is left is a charred stick that sticks in the mud, nobody knows where, nor cares. But look up yonder, the stars you could not see a moment ago for these momentary ones are shining more brightly than ever by contrast,

"... And singing as they shine.
The hand that made us is divine."

You shine in the lower skies if you will. And of course you will if you will. You will do as you will to do. But, at the end--a charred stick, a bad taste in your mouth, a sharp tugging at your heart. And the story's told. The last chapter's ended. The book is shut. But they whose one absorbing ambition it is to turn others to righteousness may not shine much here in earth's skies. And they may a bit, and it recks precious little either way. But they _shall_ shine as the stars, as bright and as long.

It does not mean Atlantic coast stars. It means desert stars, Babylonian stars, where one can see so many more than here. They shake their wondrous fire-light down into your face, and fairly dazzle your eyes. You "shall shine as the stars," as bright and as long.

The Finest Wisdom.

James, the head of the Jerusalem Church, closes up his letter to the dispersed Jews with this same word as Daniel uses. He would have all to whom he is writing understand that he that _turns_ another from the wrong way will save a soul from death and hide away out of sight and reach a mass of sin.[11] The old world needs more saving societies and saving individuals of this sort.

We have gotten great skill in saving dollars. Men give their whole strength and time to that. There is something much higher, infinitely higher, saving souls, rescuing lives, treasuring up precious men and women. These people, James says, are famous for their use of the fine cloak of charity. They make the best use of it in hiding away beyond any chance of being found a great mass of ugly, crooked, poisonous sins.

The man with the reputation of being the wisest man gives a special definition of wisdom. The old version runs, "he that winneth souls is wise."[12] This is a great statement from Solomon's pen. He had searched into all the avenues of men's pursuits. He was a great experimenter. Everything was put to a personal test. He amassed wealth beyond all others. He delved into the fascinations of intellectual delights, of deep intricate philosophies and problems.

He knew the subtle appeal to strong men that there is in deftly handling and controlling men, personally and in large numbers. He had tasted the rich wines of pleasure as had few. This is his conclusion: the wise man is he that gives his strength with all of its fine-grained cunning to wooing men back, through the old Eden gate, up to the tree of life.

This is the finest fruitage any life can yield. This will be to the bearer of it a tree of life giving twelve crops of fruits, a crop of every month, a perennial, alike in heat and frost, in storm and drought, and with a peculiar healing quality in its green leaves for all men.

The revised version gives a fine turn to this old bit, exactly reversing the first statement. "He that is wise winneth souls." The old philosopher says that here is the real test of wisdom. He that is a wise man gives the cream of his thought and wisdom to personal influence with men. He thinks the thing best worth while is drawing a man through the inner reach upon his thinking and affections and will away from the impure and ignoble and deceptive up into touch with his first Friend.

And he finds too that nothing he has ever undertaken calls for a finer play of all his powers at their best. All the diplomacy and fineness and tact and keen management at his command will be called upon. He must be a wise man to do such work. It is no fool's errand this. It demands the best in the best.

There is no body of men more keen or skilled in the handling and influencing of men, than the politicians. And I use the word in its fine meaning, as well as in its cheaper meanings. As democracy has won its way increasingly among the governments of earth these politicians have increased in number and in influence. Great measures of government have depended on their skill in manipulating men. Rarest subtlety and adroitness and rugged honesty have blended in the strongest of these leaders.

The fishing simile so commonly used in the winning of men over to one's side is a peculiarly attractive, a matchless simile. And all of this handling of men has often been for personal ends, often for wholly selfish ends, often for strong national ends. Almost never has it been for the benefit of the man being won, save at times very remotely.

But Jesus would have us become skilled diplomats in winning men for their own sakes. Getting them to climb the hills for the sake of the air and view they will get, and enjoy. We are to win strong men full of life and vigor and manly force up into touch with their Friend, Himself.

There is too a most attractive winsome phrase on the Master's lips at the close of that fishing story in Luke's fifth chapter,[13] "From henceforth thou shall _catch_ men" is the reading. But the revised margin gives this added bit of color: "Thou shalt take men alive." They should get, not dead fish, but living men. Men full of vigor and life--thou shalt have power to sway these and induce them up to the highlands of a new life.

Three Essentials.

There are three simple essentials here for the man who would be following his Master fully. The first is that a man shall surrender himself wholly to Jesus as a Master. That so Jesus may have the full control of all. Maybe some one thinks, "There is that strong word surrender again. Cannot I help a man be better without going so far as that word seems to imply?"

Will you kindly notice that the Spirit of Jesus _fills_ the surrendered man? And it is only as that Spirit does fill and sway that there can be any such passion for men as Jesus had, and, too, the fine tact that He always used. This is the first simple indispensable essential.

The second is this: a bit of quiet time alone with Jesus daily over His Word. The door should be shut. Outside things shut outside. And one's self shut in alone with the Master. This is not a good thing--merely. I am not recommending it to you. I am saying very much more. It is an _essential_ thing with every one who would follow the Master simply and fully. It is time spent in coaling up, taking out the dead ashes, and readjusting the drafts, so the fires will be kept burning steadily and clearly. This is the second great essential.

The third essential is this: a purpose, deep-seated, rock-rooted, underlying every other purpose, taking precedence of every other, of trying to win others, one by one, bit by bit, over to knowing Jesus personally. I say "trying." I like that word. There may be some blunders, some bad steps, some untactful work. But these will not turn one aside from this purpose but simply make him more determined to become skilled in this finest art.

I mean something like this. Here is a young woman moving in a social circle, just as bright and winsome as God meant every young woman to be. And as she moves about, she is thinking--no, it is thinking itself out, underneath in her subtle sub-consciousness,--"How can I drop the word here, and touch there, and leave the light impress here, that shall count with these lives for my Master?"

Here is a man transacting business with another. And even while he is dealing with figures, and contract terms, he is thinking,--no, again,--it is so deeply rooted in that the thought, like the fine trendils of a plant, is ever weaving itself intangibly but surely into the web of his passing mental operations, "How can I tactfully leave the impress here, perhaps speak the direct word, that shall be a doorway for Jesus into this life?"

A Blessed Library Corner.

I think I might tell you best just what I mean by a bit from a real life. The bit that has been such a real inspiration to myself. It is about a friend of mine, a business man, with large responsible interests, keen and shrewd in his business dealings, a very earnest Christian man, with a delightful, winning personality, and I am grateful to say who was a warm friend of mine. He is in the presence of his Master now. He was a man much my senior in years, who helped me very greatly. Whenever we chanced to meet in our travels I would drop my affairs as far as I could to spend all the time possible with him, both for the delight of his presence, and for the practical help he always was. The last time we were ever together was in Columbus, Ohio. We met there to attend an anniversary meeting of the Young Men's Christian Association, in Dr. Gladden's Church, on the Capitol Square. And Monday morning before taking our trains away in different directions we went for a drive, to get the air, and talk a bit. I made the suggestion of driving, for I knew I would get something from him. And I was right. I did get something that I never forgot, and never shall.

As we were driving, and talking, by and by, in a little lull of the talk, he said very quietly, "Gordon, do you know what I have been doing lately?" And I said, "No." "Well," he said, "it's been the delight of my life," and I could see the gleam of light in his eyes. And I said, "Tell me what it is that has been such a pleasure to you." And he said, "Well, I will." Then he went on in a very taking way he had to tell this simple story. And he was speaking as to a friend, for he was very modest, and would not have spoken of the thing; except to _help_; that would always bring anything he had.

He said when he was at home--he travelled much--he would think about the young men whom he knew who were not Christians. Splendid men, some of them; full of power; clubmen, some of them. But who did not know Jesus personally. And he would think, "Now there's such a man. I wonder what's his easy side of approach." And he would think about him, and pray some about him. And then make an opportunity to ask him up to his home for dinner some evening. His position in the city would make any young man feel honored with such an invitation.

He said to me, "We have a pleasant time at the dinner table with the family, and afterwards, a bit of music and so on. Then," with a quiet smile he said, "I ask him into my library corner, my little study den, and by and by we come to close quarters. I tell him what I'm thinking about. I tell him what a Friend Jesus is. And how it helps to have Him in all of one's life as a Friend and Master. Then I ask him softly if he won't let Jesus be his Friend."

He said, "I try to be as tactful as though I were selling a contract of cars. Though there's a fine reverence here that never gets into business talk. And then if it seems good, without causing him any embarrassment, we have a bit of prayer together. Not always, but often." And he said to me, with a tender eagerness in his voice, "Gordon, it's been the _delight_ of my life to have man after man accept Jesus in my library corner."

And I looked at him. We were driving along the busiest block of the busiest street in Columbus. The Capitol building on this side. And the old Neil Hotel on this. And all around us were the electrics, and wagons and carriages; so much noise and dust. And there that man sat by my side so quiet, with his eyes dancing as they looked off at something I could not see. And if ever Moses' face shined or Stephen's, his did that morning.

I was caught as I looked. That was the _delight_ of his life. Not his money, nor his business, nor his social relations, though he took keen interest in all of these, but this. And the sound of his voice, and the sight of his face that morning, seemed to kindle the fires in my heart that I might, in my own way, as came best to me, be doing something of that same sort. That is what I mean by a deep-seated purpose, under every other, to try to win men.

I was telling this story one night to some people in his state, not thinking that I was within maybe two hundred miles of his home. And as the audience was dismissed I saw a man coming up the aisle toward the pulpit, apparently to meet me. So I went down his way. He looked like a business fellow, with a clean-cut way about him, and a strong manly face. Before we met I noticed something glistening in his eye, and yet a smile across his lips.

And he _gripped_ my hand. I can feel that grip now. And he half-blurted out, "_I'm_ one of those fellows! And there are a lot of us that are thanking God with full hearts for that man's library room." And the grip of that hand seemed to make the fires within burn just a bit stiffer.

In an after conversation this friend told me how he had wanted to be a Christian, but didn't seem to know just how. And nobody had ever spoken to him about it, he said, though so often he had wished somebody would. There are a great many just like him in that.

"Two Missing"--"Go Ye."

Same years ago I was a guest at a small wedding dinner party in New York City. A Scotch-Irish gentleman, well known in that city, an old friend, spoke across the table to me. He said he had heard recently a story of the Scottish hills that he wanted to tell. And we all listened as he told this simple tale. I have heard it since from other lips, variously told. But good gold shines better by the friction of use. And I want to tell it to you as my old friend from the Scotch end of Ireland told it that evening.

It was of a shepherd in the Scottish hills who had brought his sheep back to the fold for the night, and as he was arranging matters for the night he was surprised to find that two of the sheep were missing. He looked again. Yes, two were missing. And he knew which two. These shepherds are keen to know their sheep. He was much surprised, and went to the out-house of his dwelling to call his collie.

There she lay after the day's work suckling her own little ones. He called her. She looked up at him. He said, "Two are missing"--holding up two fingers--"Away by, Collie, and get them." Without moving she looked up into his face, as though she would say, "You wouldn't send me out again to-night?--it's been a long day--I'm so tired--not again to-night." So her eyes seemed to say. And again as many a time doubtless, "Away by, and get the sheep," he said. And out she went.

About midnight a scratching at the door aroused him. He found one of the sheep back. He cared for it. A bit of warm food, and the like. Then out again to the out-house. There the dog lay with her little ones. Again he called her. She looked up. "Get the other sheep," he said. I do not know if you men listening are as fond of a good collie as I am. Their eyes seem human to me, almost, sometimes. And hers seemed so as she looked up and seemed to be saying out of their great depths--"Not _again_--to-night?--haven't I been faithful?--I'm so tired--not again!"

And again as I suppose many a time before, "Away by, and get the sheep." And out she went. About two or three, again the scratching. And he found the last sheep back; badly torn; been down some ravine or gully. And the dog was plainly played. And yet she seemed to give a bit of a wag to her tired tail as though she would say, "There it is--I've done as you bade me--it's back."

And he cared for its needs, and then before lying down again to his own rest, thought he would go and praise the dog for her faithful work. You know how sensitive collies are to praise or criticism. He went out and stooped over with a pat and a kindly word, and was startled to find that the life-tether had slipped its hold. She lay there lifeless, with her little ones tugging at her body.

That was only a dog. We are men. Shall I apologize for using a _dog_ for an illustration? No. I will not. One of God's creatures, having a part in His redemption. That was to save sheep. You and I are sent, not to save sheep, but to save _men_. And how much then is a _man_ better than a sheep, or anything else!

And our Master stands here to-day. Would that you and I might see His face with the thorn marks of His trip to this earth. He points out with His hand. And you can't miss a peculiar hole in its palm. He says, "There are _two missing_--aye, more than two--that you know--that you touch--that you can touch--that I died for--go _ye_."

Shall we go? For Jesus' sake? Yes, for men's sake; splendid men, befooled about Jesus, who can get Him only through us in touch with Him--for men's sake, in Jesus' great Name.

Deep-Sea Fishing: The Ambition of Service.

A Water Haul.
Living up in the Spirit Realm.
Saved to Serve.
Ambition in Service.
Use What You Have.
Expectancy in Service.
Jesus Went into the Deeps.

Deep-Sea Fishing: The Ambition of Service.

(Luke v:1-11.)

A Water Haul.

Jesus was very fond of the outdoors. The Gospels have a woodsy smell. He taught in the synagogues, but He seemed to prefer the open air. He would go out on a country road, or down by the beach of the Galilean lake, and the people would eagerly gather around Him, and He would talk to them. One morning He had gone down to the lake shore. The people crowded in about Him and He commenced as usual to talk to them.

But so eager were they not to miss a word that they pressed in about Him very close. He was standing with His back to the water likely, and the people seemed likely to crowd Him over into the water. So He looked around for something to do. He was ever practical to the point of being matter-of-fact. A practical idealist was Jesus, _the_ practical Idealist. Peter was down there, just a short distance off, with his partners and crew in their fishing boats, cleaning up after the night's haul. Lifting His voice a little, Jesus called out, "Peter, will you pull around here, please."

And Peter did. And Jesus, stepping into the boat, sat down, and went on talking to the people. Interruptions never seemed to disturb Him. He seemed to regard them in the light of possible index fingers pointing out the next thing to be done. Every missionary, foreign and home, has to get practised in just that, while holding steady to his underlying purpose.

When He had finished talking, He turned to Peter and said quietly, "Launch out into the deep, and let down your nets for a draught." And Peter smiled at the very idea, as he said, "Master, we've been out the whole night, and haven't caught a thing, nothing but a water haul, but"--with a thoughtful earnestness taking the place of the critical smile--"if you say so, of course we will." And the Master said so. And now they can't handle the haul.

I want to bring to you anew this old word of command from Jesus' lips: "Launch out into the deep, and let down your nets for a draught." These men in the story had failed. They had gone out the evening before intending and expecting to bring home a fine haul of fish for the Capernaum or the Bethsaida market. They came back with nothing for the night's work but tired muscles and torn nets. This message is for men who have failed, or who have seemed to fail. There is no failure to an earnest man. A man cannot fail without his own consent. Every seeming failure is the seed of a coming success to earnest men.

If any of us have seemed to fail, our boots have lead in them, and our hearts are heavy too, for lack of success--this message is for us, "Launch out, and let down." Failure is very apt to breed discouragement. Your clothing seems damp and heavy with the dew of a fruitless night. Oftentimes the best thing for that is action. Mix yourself with the action of boats and nets and men. That's the Master's word here.

Living up in the Spirit Realm.

There are three facts that group about the message of Jesus in this story. And those same three facts need to group themselves in bold outline about our using of it, too. The first is this: there was _contact with Jesus as a Master_. That must come in, and come in strong, before there can be any right using of this word of command.

There needs to be the first contact when a man turns over the control of his life to Jesus as Master. There needs to be close contact that the Master's plan of service may be clearly seen and faithfully started upon. There must be continual contact that so His mastery may control and guide at every step.

The second fact is this: obedience to the Master's word. Obedience, mind you, whether the thing you are told to do seems a likely thing to do or not. Here with the fishermen there were some things that pulled the other way. They had been out all night and failed. The very sense of failure strong within them was against obedience. Discouraged men seldom succeed at anything. And there was a very unlikely chance ahead. The time for fishing with them was in the night. Failure behind, and a poor chance ahead! Yet they obeyed.

If Peter had acted the way some modern folks do he would have said something like this: "You'll excuse me, Master, for saying it; but--this is no time to fish in these waters. Pardon me, sir, I have no doubt you know about carpentering. But _I'm a fisherman_. When it comes to yokes and plows I'll gladly yield to you. But fishing--you see, I've been fishing ever since I was a boy. Maybe up around Nazareth, in the brooks and ponds up there, you can catch something in daylight, but not down here."

I have heard many people talking that way. But Peter didn't. Aren't you glad he didn't? He stumbled often. He talked foolishly to Jesus more than once, but not this time. He obeyed. It was against his habit, against his ideas of what was best, but the message was clear and he obeyed it. Happy is the man who listens to the inner Voice, learns keenly how to hear distinctly and accurately, and obeys. Faith is never contrary to reason, but it is frequently _higher up_. The spirit realm is the highest.

A man should reach up _through_ his bodily life, _through_ a keen, strong intellectual perception and grasp, up into the spirit realm and abide there. Many a man of splendid ability and earnestness never shakes off his intellectual scaffolding in the upward building. It remains to hamper and mar. Through a mastered body, and a disciplined mind, up to the spirit level is the full swing. Obedience to the clearly discerned voice of command from the Master is the one pathway of full power.

The third fact was sure to follow these two. It came last. There were unexpectedly large results. There always will be where the first two facts are faithfully gotten in.

Saved to Serve.

There is a growth in this message of Jesus. There are four steps up and out. First comes the plain call to _service: "Launch out_." This is the ringing service call. It is a familiar word to a follower of Jesus. He was always saying, "Go ye." To every man He said first of all, "Come." Then, as quickly as a man came, the word was changed to "go."

I like greatly the motto of the Salvation Army. It must have been born for those workers in the warm heart of the mother of the Army, Catharine Booth. That mother explains much of the marvelous power of that organization. Their motto is, "_Saved to Serve_." Some seem to put the period in after the first word. That's bad punctuation and worse Christianity. We are saved to be savers. There is needed the divine Savior and the human saver. Only he who has been saved can help save somebody else. The tingle of experience in the blood attracts men.

The Master says, "Launch out." Get down into the thick of the fight. One should not unwisely wear out his strength. But on the other hand, it's better to wear out than to rust out. You'll last longer, and any loss of strength is to be preferred to the loss through yellow, eating rust. A minister noted for his striking way of putting truth was preaching upon the words that were spoken of Paul and his companions: "These that have turned the world upside down are come hither also."[14] He said there were three points to his sermon: first, the world was wrong side up; second, it had to be gotten right side up; third, _we're the fellows to do it_. That is the first note of this message, _we_ are the fellows to do it.

Ambition in Service.

The second step in this ringing call to service is this: _ambition_ in service. "Launch out _into the deep_." The shore waters are largely over-fished. Out in the deeps are fish that have never had smell or sight of bait or net. Here, near shore, the lines get badly tangled sometimes, and committees have to be appointed to try to untangle the lines and sweeten up the fishermen.

And the fish get very particular about the sort and shape of the bait. Some men have taken to fishing wholly with pickles, but with very unsatisfactory results. The fish nibble, but are seldom landed apparently. And just a little bit out are fish that never have gotten a suggestion of a good bite.

There are deeps all around. One might fairly give an inward personal turn to the word. There are _personal deeps_ that have not yet been sounded. There are untouched deeps in prayer, in Bible study, and in the winning of others. There are deeps in acquaintance with Jesus, in purity of life, in sacrifice and in giving whose bottom no greasy lead has yet touched. "Out into the deep," comes that quiet intense inner voice of Jesus spoken into one's innermost heart.

There are the great _deeps in service_ waiting our coming. Roundabout every church is a fringe of deep, sometimes a deep fringe and broad, of those practically untouched by the warm message of Jesus; and around every Christian Association of men and of women. In the heart and on the edges of every village and town and city unfathomed deeps lie; deeps in a man's own state, deeps in our land, great untouched deeps in the world.

Wherever there is a man who has not felt the warm side of the story of Jesus' dying there is a deep. Wherever a group of such can be found is a deep increased in depth by the number in the group. Wherever the great crowds are gathered together to whom no word at all has come, neither by personal touch nor printed page nor any other wise, there is the deepest deep. With a deep glow in His eyes as He speaks the word, and the tenderness and softness of deep emotion, and the earnestness of one who has Himself been in the deep Jesus says anew to us to-day, "out into the _deep_."

We are to be ambitious in service. Jesus was ambitious. He reached out for all, those nearest, those farthest. He talked of all nations, of a world. His follower must have a long reach to keep up. That word ambition has been much abused. It has been used much in connection with selfish self-seeking, until that meaning has become almost its whole meaning in the thinking of many people. But with the purpose dominant in Jesus we can properly use it in its old literal meaning. Originally it simply meant going around, being used in the sense of going out among people soliciting their favor or their votes.

It has the fine vitality of that word "go" in it. That for which a man is ambitious decides the quality of the word. A pure, holy purpose makes the intense reaching for it pure and holy too. An intense reaching out to the farthest reach of the Master's word, that finds expression in the dominant spirit of the life, in the service, in the giving, the sacrificing, the praying--this is the true ambition.

Paul uses three times a word that has the force of our word ambition.[15] The American Revision uses ambition in the margin for it. In advising the group of followers in Thessalonica he says, "_Study_ to be quiet." The practical force of the phrase there is this: be ambitious to be unambitious in the world's abused meaning of ambitious. In writing the second time to the friends at Corinth where his motives had been much criticised he said, "I make it my aim (or ambition) to be well-pleasing unto Him."

And later, in writing to the Christians at Rome, whom he had never seen, he said that he had made it his aim or had been ambitious to preach the Gospel where nobody had yet gone. The literal meaning of the word he uses is something like this, striving from a love of honor. And we may find a fine meaning in that which was doubtless used otherwise.

It was a matter of honor with Paul to do as he was doing. And he would have the honor of having fully carried out his Master's wish. He coveted earnestly the honor of being always pleasing to his Master both in life and in the sort and reach of his service. Here are Paul's three ambitions: to be wholly free of the fires of worldly ambitions; to be well-pleasing to Jesus, his Lord; to reach out beyond, where nobody had yet gone with the story of Jesus' dying and living again.

Paul was obeying Jesus. Jesus said to those fishermen on Galilee's waters, "Launch out into the deep, and let down your nets for a draught." Paul said, "I have steadily made it the one thing I drove hard at in service, to get out beyond all other lines and nets to where nobody has yet gone."

Use What You Have.

The third step in this service-call is this: _practicality in service_: "Let down your nets." I can imagine Peter saying, "Master, if we had known your plans for this morning, I would have sent up to Tyre for the newest patented nets, or down to Cairo. These nets of ours have been patched and patched. They are so old." The Master says, "Let down _your_ nets."

There is a very common delusion that holds us back from doing something because we are not skilled in doing it. "Let the pastor speak to that young man; I can't do it very well." "I can't teach very well; let some one else take that class." The Master says, "Use what you have." Do your best. Your best may not be _the_ best, but if it be your best, it will be God-blest, and always bring a harvest.

Use what you have. Do not despise the stuff God put into you. Train and discipline it the best you can, and use it. And in using it you will be training it. The best training is in _use_. Brains and pains and prayer are an irresistible trinity. When the gray matter and the finger tips and the knees get into a combination great results always come.

The old Hebrew farmer Shamgar had only a long ox-goad with which to prod his beasts in the field. The traditional enemy, the Philistine, comes up over the hill. Shamgar's neighbors have taken to their heels. But Shamgar is made of different stuff. He asks a man hurrying by, "How many do you think there are?" And the man calls out, "About six hundred, I should say."

Shamgar sets his jaws together hard, gets a fresh grip on his ox-goad, digs his heels into the ground for a good hold, and mutters to himself, "I guess they are about four hundred short." And he smites, left and right, up and down, hip and thigh, with his strange weapon. And a great victory comes to the nation under its new leader.

David had only a leather sling, home-made likely, and a few smooth stones out of the running brook. He had skill in slinging stones, a keen trained eye, a steady nerve, a practiced arm, and well-knit muscles. But what were these against a giant almost twice his height and years, and armed to the teeth? Yet the ruddy-faced stripling had something better yet along with his sling and stones and skill. He had a simple trust in God. He had a hot protest in his heart against the slandering of God's people by this heathen giant. He _combined_ all he had, sling, stones, skill, and faith, and the laughing, sneering giant is soon under his feet, and feeling the edge of his own sword. "Let down your nets." Use what you have.

There was a woman living down by the east coast of the Mediterranean Sea a good while ago. Her heart had been touched by God, and ever after beat warm for others. But what could _she_ do? She couldn't make speeches, nor write papers for the missionary society, nor preside over its meetings. She seemed to have one special gift. She could sew. She could do plain sewing and overcast, cross-stitch and hem-stitch. I suppose she knew the herring-bone-stitch and feather-stitch, and other sorts too.

And so she just busied herself finding out poor folks who needed clothing, some women too hard-worked to care for their children's clothing. And she sewed for them. She was a seamstress for Jesus' sake to all the needy folks she could find. I expect she stuck pretty closely to the plain stitching, though likely as not she would put in some of the fancy too to please the people she was winning to her Master.

And she sewed the story of Jesus, and the heart of Jesus, into coats and skirts and such. All through Joppa her message went into homes not otherwise open perhaps. And the women read the story of her heart in the stitches and they found Jesus through her needle. She used what she had. And the women of the church have rightly honored her name in their societies.

But mark keenly this: while using to the full, and faithfully, just what you have, there must needs be utter dependence upon God. Not what you have, nor what you can do, but Somebody _in_ what you have, and _through_ what you do. Notice, "Their nets were _breaking_." They were to use their nets, but the power was somewhere else. As we are made up, there frequently needs to be a breaking before the glory of God is revealed. It need not be so, necessarily.

Yet as a matter of fact most people have to stub their toes and then go stumbling down with a clash, measuring their length on the earth, and getting some scars that stay before they can be mightily used. So many strong wills are strong enough to be stubborn, but not strong enough to yield. Gideon's pitchers had to be broken before the lights flashed out and brought panic to the enemy.

It was when the alabaster box was broken that its fine fragrance filled the house, and spread out into all the world. Somebody prayed, "O Lord, take me, and break me, and make me." That is the usual order as a matter of fact. Yet if the strength of stubbornness that must be broken down to change its direction, were but swung God's way at once--But most folks that have been greatly used have some of this sort of scars. Utter dependence upon God's strength in doing God's service is the lesson of the breaking nets.

Expectancy in Service.

The climax of this message of Jesus is in its end: "Let down your nets _for a draught_." There is to be _expectancy in service_. Ideas of draughts changed that day. "Peter, what would you call a good draught?" "Well," the old fisherman says, as he sits stitching up the holes in his nets, "after last night I think if we got a boat half full it wouldn't be a bad haul." "Andrew, what's a draught?" And Andrew says, "I think after this water haul we've had, a haul of holes, Peter hits it pretty close."

"Master, how much is _a draught_?" And His answer comes back over the water, "Twice as much as you are able to take care of, and then more." They filled that boat, sent for another, filled that, and then didn't land all they had caught.

How much do you reckon a draught in your life, in your church, in your mission, your field, _how much_ are you _saying_?--"Master, what is your reckoning of a draught here in this man's life, out here in this field of service?" And from this Galilean story there comes back anew to our hearts the Master's reply, "Twice as much as you have planned for, and then more."

Expectancy is the eye of faith. Faith always has a watch-tower. When Elijah went to the tiptop of Carmel to pray, he was careful to send his servant to watch the sea. Prayer is faith looking up. Expectancy is faith looking out.

Jesus Went into the Deeps.

And so to every one of us to-day comes afresh that ringing command, "Launch out into the deep and let down your nets for a draught."

"'Launch out into the deep;'
The awful depth of a world's despair;
Hearts that are breaking and eyes that weep;
Sorrow and ruin and death are there.
And the sea is wide;
And its pitiless tide
Bears on its bosom away.
Beauty and youth,
In relentless ruth,
To its dark abyss for aye.
But the Master's voice comes over the sea,
'Let down your nets for a draught for Me.'
And He stands in our midst,
On our wreck-strewn strand.
And sweet and loving is His command.
His loving word is to each, to all.
And wherever that loving word is heard,
There hang the nets of the royal Word.
Trust to the nets, and not to your skill;
Trust to the royal Master's will.
Let down the nets this day, this hour;
For the word of a king is a word of power,
And the King's own word comes over the sea,
Let down your nets for a draught for Me.'"

There is a last word that comes up insisting to be said. It is this: Jesus went down into the deeps for us. Deeper deeps than we know or ever shall He sounded with the line of His own life on our behalf. He got badly scarred that night of darkness. It is this scarred Jesus who earnestly asks us to come along after Him so far as we can. His voice with a tenderness of love wrought into it on the cross says to us, "Launch out into the deep, and let down your nets for a draught."

Money: The Golden Channel of Service.

Touching a Limitless Circle.
Peculiar Effects of Money.
Jesus' Law for the Use of Money.
Foreign Exchange.
Gold-Exchanged Lives.
Spirit Alchemy.
The Fragrance of the Life in the Gift.
Sacrifice Hallows and Increases the Gift.
A Living Sacrifice.

Money: The Golden Channel of Service.[16]

(Luke xvi:1-18.)

Touching a Limitless Circle.

There is an inky shadow over the home of God. There is a sharp pain tugging at the heart of God. It's a family matter; a family disgrace. One of God's family has gone off from the home circle and made a bad mess of things. Such an affair is always a source of great grief, especially where the family is an old one, with fine blood. And here the family is of the oldest, and the blood the best. The Father feels the sharp edge of the knife of disgrace very keenly. The hearth fire of God is lonely for the one gone away.

All of that Father's great love and rare wisdom have centered and blended on a plan for winning the estranged member of His family back home, of his own free glad accord. The other members of His family have gazed with awe-touched faces upon the marvels of that plan. Its tenderness, its depth, its wondrous love-wisdom have excited their deepest admiration while they watch breathlessly to see the outcome.

That prodigal is our own splendid planet. Some of us down here have gladly welcomed the Father's plan and the Father's Son. His Son is His plan. But most of us don't seem to understand the Father. And that is hard on Him. And the greater number of us, by far the greater number, haven't even heard of the Father's plan or of His Son, and have lost the memory of His loving voice calling. He is always calling. And everyone hears that calling voice. But very many do not recognize it as the Father's.

In great tenderness the Father's plan for winning all includes the help of those already won. Through His Son first, and then through His sons, newborn, reborn, He is reaching out His warm, eager hand to all. He breathed His own Spirit upon His Son. He breathes that same Spirit upon each of us who will, that so we may, each of us, touch all the others with the touch of God.

Five great touches of God there are, each charged with a mighty current of power. The fragrant life-touch, the musical voice-touch, the warm service-touch, the potent golden-touch, the secret, subtle prayer-touch. The first three of these are limited to a narrow circle, the circle of the immediate personality. The last two are limitless. They are like our own spirits. They reach directly, resistlessly, clear out through the personal circle as far as the spirit reaches, even around the whole circle of the planet.

Just now for a little while we want to talk together about one of these, the potent yellow golden-touch. The word service has been thought of quite commonly as referring to certain restricted things that one may do for another. It has a broader meaning too. Whatever we do to help another is service. Not merely the direct activities, but praying and giving are service of most potent influence. Money supplies a channel through which one may reach most intimately to others, near by and around the world. It is the golden channel of service.

Peculiar Effects of Money.

Money is queer stuff. The opposites meet in it so strikingly. It may be the most cruel, exacting tyrant. It may be the most faithful, intelligent servant. If it come into a man's life unaccompanied by a high, controlling motive power, it has most peculiar effects upon him. It often wrinkles up his face, and ties hard knots in the wrinkled lines. It can dwarf a warm hand into a cold, hard, muscle-bound fist. It drains the warm blood from the heart, and dries all the sweet, fragrant dew out of the spirit. The hand suffers much. It is often stricken with a sort of palsy while in the pocket, and cannot be withdrawn. Sometimes there is a violent cramp, or a sort of pen paralysis that prevents the signing of the name--to certain sorts of checks.

But if, on the other hand, it come into a man's possession accompanied by a pure unselfish motive that _controls_, it comes the nearest to omnipotence of anything we handle. Gold of itself seems to have the puckering quality of a green persimmon. The green fruit will contract the mouth to its smallest proportions. And unmellowed gold acts in the same way upon the mouth of the pocket.

This is true of all gold and of all pockets. There are no exceptions. The only possible way of effecting a change is to let a stronger power come in and counteract the contracting power. Gold has the greatest contracting power of any earthly substance. Its only sufficient counteractant is God. God has the greatest expanding power known to angels or men. Gold contracts. God expands. If God be the dominating motive power in a man's life, then does gold come the nearest to omnipotence of any tangible thing. It takes on the quality of Him who breathes upon it.

Jesus' Law for the Use of Money.

Jesus gives us the simple law for the right use of money. It is in that sixteenth chapter of Luke. He is talking about the dishonest overseer of a wealthy man's estate. His dishonest practices have been discovered, and he is required to make a final settlement preliminary to his being discharged. He has evidently been living extravagantly, for the loss of position threatens him with beggary. Distressed to know what to do he hits upon a farther extension of his dishonest practices, and uses the position he is about to lose to buy up friends for his coming days of want.

As he tells the story Jesus adds this comment: "for the sons of this world are for their own generation wiser than the sons of light." Practically they go on the supposition that the present generation is the only one. For the short space of years making up their own generation they are wiser than the sons of light. But for the long space of all coming generations they are the rankest fools. That is included by contrast in Jesus' words. The man who in his use of money thinks only or chiefly of the years making up his own present life is--a fool. The man who takes into his reckoning not only the present generation, but all coming generations, in disposing of his money is the shrewd financier.

Then occurs the sentence[17] that contains a wonderfully simple statement for the keen, wise use of gold. The old version runs like this: "Make to yourselves friends of the mammon of unrighteousness that when ye fail they may receive you into everlasting habitations." The revised version, both English and American, reads this way: "Make to yourselves friends by means of the mammon of unrighteousness that when _it_ shall fail they may receive you into the eternal tabernacles."

I have ventured to make a rather free translation that I feel sure is true to the words here in their connection and that gives in simple English just what Jesus means. "Make to yourselves friends by means of money, which the unrighteous world reckons riches, that when it fails they may receive you," and so on. Money is not riches. The world commonly has been befooled into thinking that it is. Perhaps we have not all quite escaped that delusion. And money is not unrighteous. It is neither righteous, nor unrighteous. It gets its moral quality from the man owning it for the time being. It is as he is. It takes on the color of its ownership.