Matthew 2:11-15

Chapter 4

Life Larger Than Logic The Helpfulness of Science the Religious Imagination the Difficulty of Patience

Prayer

Almighty God, we know thee through Jesus Christ our Lord, our Priest and Saviour. He is the Mediator between God and Man, he is the propitiation for our sins, his blood cleanseth from all guilt, he is our joy and our strength, and there is none beside him, our whole salvation, a redemption complete and infinite. We assemble to-day around his Cross, we touch the dying Lamb, we look first at our sin and then at his grace; where sin abounds grace doth much more abound, so that the blood of Jesus Christ thy Son is our answer to thy fierce law. We have no other reply, our hearts are silent when thy law accuses, bat in Christ Jesus and his cross, and in all the wondrous work he did, we find our answer to the accusations of thy righteousness and all the challenges of thy law. We pray in his name; our intercessions are mighty because they are offered at his cross; they are weak and worthless in themselves, but because of what Jesus is and what Jesus did, all our weakness is turned into strength, and our trembling prayer becomes a prevalent intercession.

We have come to bless thee with a new song, for thy mercies have been renewed in our life day by day. Every hour has brought its own miracle of grace, every moment has seen some fresh display of thy patience or providential care. The very hairs of our head are all numbered. Thou hearest the throbbing of our heart, thou knowest the way that we take; yea, thou dost beset us behind and before, and upon us is laid thy gentle yet mighty hand. We are here because of thy goodness, thou hast saved our soul from death, we are yet on praying ground, we have the opportunity of uttering our psalm and hymn and prayer into Heaven in the name and for the sake of the one Saviour. Thou hast given us bread to eat, thou hast sheltered us from the darkness and the storm, thou hast given unto us rest in sleep, and the renewal of strength therein, thou hast continued unto us our reasoning faculties, the chain of our friendship has not been broken in one link because, therefore, of all these thine earthly mercies, we bless thee with a rising gratitude, we praise thee with a full heart, for thy mercies have been many and tender.

Thou hast, above all things, nourished our soul. Though we were branches that had no place in the living stem, yet hast thou graffed us in, so that now we partake of the root and the fatness of the olive. Thou didst find us when we were lost, thou didst make us sons when we were aliens and wanderers, thou didst invest us with all the privileges of thy church when our arm had been lifted against thee in continual rebellion. This is the Lord's doing, and it is marvellous in our eyes. May we enjoy all thy privileges now, may we seize our inheritance and claim it with our whole heart, so that we who were poor by reason of this world's sins and distresses may now become rich with imperishable wealth. To this end do thou pour upon us the Holy Ghost; may he dwell in us, ruling our thought and purpose and will, and sanctifying us altogether, till there be in our whole nature nothing of impurity or wrong. Complete the miracle of thy grace in our sanctification; may we be without spot or wrinkle, or any such thing, glorious personally, and glorious as a redeemed church.

We put our life into thy care day by day. We know not when its last breathings shall be; help us, therefore, to be diligent with all care and filial anxiety to do that which is right in thy sight, and to make the most of our day and generation. Deliver us from the torment of fear, save us from the hell of despondency, create in us that happiness, that overflowing joyousness which comes of complete trust in God. May we not give way to the temptation of the evil one, may our fears never multiply themselves against us to the extinction of our hope, and in the darkest night may we see some distant and trembling star, in the coldest winter may there come upon us now and again some gleam of light that tells of the summer that is yet to dawn. In all the way that we take give us guidance, ensure unto us defence, then snail our steps be steady, and they shall all point towards the city of light and the city of rest.

Thou knowest what we need: grant unto us, we humbly pray thee, in the name and for the sake of Jesus Christ, that which our heart most truly requires. Wherein our words do not express our needs, do thou not hear those words nor answer them: wherein we are inspired to speak of our real and vital wants, do thou command thy blessing to rest upon us, even life for evermore. Pity us when we are infirm and little in soul and in purpose, save us when we are most conscious of our aggravated guilt, fill our vision with thy beauty when that which is of the earth and time would tempt us with its meaner attractions.

Hear us when we pray one for another, when we pray for heads of houses that they may be clothed with wisdom, sobriety, and grace, for children, that they may be brought up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord, for masters and servants, that they may understand and help one another, for the sick and the afflicted, that in their weakness they may see the incoming of Christ, bringing with him health and immortality, for the distant and the wandering, those from whom we are for the moment separated, that there may be no division of soul or distraction of love, but that though far apart, we may yet be one in affection and godly desire.

The Lord hear us on account of those who never pray for themselves, those who are aliens and prodigals, who have broken every vow, dishonoured every covenant, and have gone far away into the bleak wilderness of iniquity the Lord's Gospel flee after them like a saving angel, and flash upon them some home-light or strike in their hearts some tender chord that shall bring them back again, that there may be rejoicing on earth and in Heaven. The Lord's light make our morning glad, the beauty of the Lord himself be upon us, making our souls lovely with his presence and strong with his grace. Amen.

Matthew 2:11-15 .

11. And when they were come into the house they saw the young child (the child first, not the mother: this order should be marked) with Mary his mother, and fell down and worshipped him (a word often used in a double sense; Xenophon says that Cyrus was worshipped by his subjects); and when they had opened their treasures (caskets or packages), they presented (according to oriental custom) unto him gifts: gold and frankincense, and myrrh, (Psalms 45:8 , Psalms 72:15 ; Isa 60:6 ).

12. And being warned of God in a dream that they should not return to Herod, they departed into their own country another way.

13. And when they were departed, behold, the (an) angel of the Lord appeareth to Joseph in a dream, saying, Arise and take the young child and his mother, and flee into Egypt (the nearest asylum), and be thou there until I bring thee word: for Herod will seek the young child to destroy him.

14. When he arose, he took the young child and his mother (this order is unnatural, if not inspired) by night, and departed into Egypt;

15. And was there until the death of Herod: that it might be fulfilled which was spoken of the Lord by the prophet (of Israel, but typically of Christ), saying, Out of Egypt have I called my son.

"They found the young child with Mary, his mother." Surely this is an inversion of the right method of stating the case, judged by our little rules, pedantic and inadequate. A critic might here interpose and say, You have adopted the wrong order of sequence, you have inverted the proper method of statement. Instead of saying, Mary, the mother, and the young child, you have actually put the young child first, and thus you have inverted the order of time. Nor is this a slip, for I find the angel of the Lord adopting the same sequence in the 13th verse, saying to Joseph in a dream, "Take the young child with his mother," and afterwards in the 20th verse, the angel again says, "Arise, and take the young child and his mother," and in the 21st verse, "Arise, and take the young child and his mother." The frequency of the repetition shows us that to indicate the young child first and the mother afterwards was not a literary slip.

When will we learn that life is larger than logic? When will we keep our little technical rules away from great providences and mysteries? We are ruined herein by our own exactness. The literalist can never be right in anything that challenges the highest efforts of the mind. He who is right in the mere order of words, after a pedantic law of rightness and accuracy, often misses the genius, the poetry, the overflowing and ineffable life of things. He boasts of his exactitude, he is very clever in defending himself against etymological and critical assaults, but he is vitally wrong. Within the limits which he has assigned for the movement of his powers he is right, but those limits themselves are wrong, and, therefore, it is possible to be partially right and yet to be substantially and vitally in error. He, for example, who says the earth stands still, is in a popular sense right, and yet his statement is absolutely wrong.

If we could apply this great thought of the largeness of life to the interpretation of Scripture, we should not be fretted by many of those petty and distracting criticisms which bring down heaven to the scale of earth, and vex us with unworthy controversies. The rule is, Christ first the young child mentioned at the top of every list. "He was before all things and by him all things consist." If he is Alpha, he is Omega; if he is the young child, he is the Ancient of Days. He takes precedence of the whole universe, for he was before it he laid its foundations, and arched its canopies. Refrain, therefore, from thy little and dwarfing criticisms as to chronological sequence, and abandon those neat exactitudes which, by their very superficial claim to being considered right, may prevent the entrance into thy mind of the larger light and the broader revelation.

When the wise men came into the house they fell down and worshipped the young child. They did not fall down and worship Mary they hardly saw the mother. Who can see anything but Christ when he is there? To see anything in God's house but God is to waste the opportunity. The wise men worshipped the young child, they did him homage, they bent before him, they became oblivious of themselves in his presence; not a word might they say, for worship when deepest is often silent. Words have been hindrances in the way of spiritual progress. Words are to blame for the thousand controversies that afflict and distress the Church. I would to God we could do without words, for who can understand even his friend? Who can catch the subtle emphasis, who has eyes quickened to see the colouring of the word, and sagacity to set it in its right place, so as to lose nothing of its rhythm, and harmony, and sweet intent? Whatever the word worship may mean here, religiously for that word is used ambiguously both in the classics and in Scripture it is evident that the wise men offered homage to the young child. The right attitude of wisdom is to bend before Christ, to be silent in his presence, to wait for him to lead the conversation. If wisdom venture to utter its voice first, it ought to be in inquiry or in praise. Wisdom is always reticent of speech; it is the fool who chatters, the wise man thinks. When Socrates was told that he was the wisest man in the world, he ran away, and yet returned to accept the compliment, for, said he, "I knew that I knew nothing, and I have met with no other man so wise."

If we come into the house where Jesus Christ is, our business is to imitate the wise men who came from the far east, namely, to bend the knee, to put our hand over our eyes, lest we be blinded by the great light, to be silent, to wait. It would be well, if in our brief time of worship we could set aside a few minutes for absolute silence. No minister to speak, no organ to utter its voice, no hymn to trouble the air. If we could, with shut eyes and bent head, spend five minutes in absolute speechlessness, that would be prayer, that would be worship. The fool would misunderstand it, and think nothing was being done, but as the last expression of velocity is rest, so the last expression of eloquence is silence, and sometimes the highest liturgy is to be dumb. We have banished the angel of silence, the angel of quietude is a nuisance to our fussy civilization; we have set noise in the front, and silence has been exiled from the Church.

Not only did the wise men worship Christ, they presented unto him gifts, "gold and frankincense and myrrh." This is the method of love. Worship is giving, it is not receiving. We are never to see Christ without giving him ourselves. Jesus Christ does not seek the homage of a courteous recognition, he seeks the loyalty of absolute sacrifice. The wise men gave him all they had, and Jesus Christ never says, "Hold, you have given enough." Never, till the heart's last fibre is given to him, and the last red blood-drop falls upon his hand then, having received us in the totality of our being, his soul is satisfied.

"And being warned of God in a dream that they should not return to Herod, they departed into their own country another way." God is in continual communication with the right-minded. He speaks to them by starry eloquence. He speaks to them in words and visions and dreams. He is a God nigh at hand, and not afar off to all those who are rightly disposed towards him, and whose hearts rise up in vehement desire to know his will. He will be as near us as our desire is pure: the fire of our earnestness will be, as it were, the measure of his readiness to come and give us guidance and defence. He spake to the wise men in a dream. We have debased the word dream, and then we ask one another, with a hilarious scepticism if we believe in dreams? What word have we not fouled and despoiled, and then, having brought it to its smallest significations; we have turned round and asked if we believe that such terms can be measured by divine revelations? By overfeeding, we have brought upon ourselves all the distresses of dyspeptic nightmare, and having come out of the nightly struggle, we say, "Now do you suppose that there is any truth in dreams? " See how the argument is put upon a false centre, see how we first waste the inheritance, and then demand its value?

What does the word dream signify? Not a nightmare, not the incoherences and ravings of a disordered brain, resulting from overfeeding. It means the outgo of the soul towards the invisible, distant, spiritual, incomprehensible, eternal. We have lost the dream out of the Church. We have lost everything prophecy, tongues, miracles, songs, gifts of healing, helps, governments, enthusiasms, heroisms we have lost them all! It is just like us fools, we ought never to have been trusted with anything! What have we left now? Nothing. Miracles gone, prophecy gone, the devil gone, God GOING. As for dreams, we have long survived their foolish means of communicating with the invisible. As for dreams, we despise them, and laugh mockingly over our smoking chocolate, and ask one another if we believe in dreams! Reclaim the original signification of the term, rebuild the shattered inheritance, and then ask the great question, and you shall have a great reply.

The dream stands for that grandest of all powers, the religious imagination. That, again, is a word which must be used with great guardedness, because the word imagination has itself been stripped, wounded, and left half-dead. Who can now define imagination with the original fire and with the original grandeur? We abuse and misapply the terms. We now say, speaking of a man who makes false suppositions, "He imagines things." When we so use the word, we use it with improper limitations, and in short we give a wrong turn to the term. No wonder, therefore, that we are afraid to use the grand word imagination in any religious sense. It is only a man in a century or two who is really gifted with imagination. Imagination is a creative faculty, imagination images the unimaged, gives visibility and palpableness to the immaterial, the unmeasured and the unnamed.

When we charge certain persons with having no imagination, they start and say, "If we have one faculty more than another, it is imagination." When we ask them to provide the proof, what do they reply? They mistake description for imagination; thus, they will describe an object as blue on one side and yellow on the other and surmounted by a coronal of red, and then they will claim for their speech the sublime epithet of imagination! It is a house painter's imagination. It is the imagination of a man who paints rustic signs for rustic inns. Imagination! it is God's supreme gift to the human mind. When a thought presents itself to the intelligence, imagination bodies it, gives it form, configuration, colour, and enters into high dialogue with the strange and most wondrous guest. The most of us have no imagination; the next best gift we can have is to listen with patience rising into delight, to the man to whom God has given this great gift of making the dumb speak, and calling into visibleness the unseen and unpalpable.

The wise men "departed into their country another way." God knows the way into your countries and kingdoms, how distant soever they be. You have made a high road out of your Persia into the distant Judea, how will you get back again? Why, by the same road there is no other, say you, in conscious wisdom concerning the whole topographical arrangement. The angel of the Lord says, "I will show you the way home: not one step of the old road shall you take, I will make a way for you." Do not say there is no way out of your difficulty. It is a family difficulty, or a difficulty imperial or ecclesiastical, or a difficulty upon which you can take no human counsel. Do not, therefore, say that your way is passed over from your God, that you have been brought into a cul de sac, and must bruise your head against the resisting and defiant walls. Stand still, and say, "Lord, show me thy salvation: take me home by another way: I thought this was the right road, I find that my thinking has been misinformed, or that circumstances have arisen which throw my calculations into preplexity and environ my life with strange and mighty opposition. Lord, I will not move one inch until thou dost lead the way." Say you so is that your heart's sweet litany? No weapon that is formed against thee shall prosper. Commit thy way unto the Lord: trust also in him and he shall bring it to pass. Oh, rest in the Lord and wait patiently for him, and he shall give thee thy heart's desire.

This incident shows us in how many ways God interposes in human affairs. The angel of the Lord warned the wise men, and he also warned Joseph. There is a ministry of warning in our life. Why that sudden start? You cannot explain it. It was a frightening angel that looked upon your life for a moment, and by his look said, "Not this way straight on." Why tear up the programme on which you have spent months? You cannot explain why, but a voice said to you, "That programme is all wrong, tear it to pieces and throw it into the fire: there is danger there. Beware, take care. Not this road. Trust not to thine own understanding. That programme is a witness to thy folly and shallowness: throw it from thee as thou wouldst throw poison, and stand empty-handed before God, and ask him to write the way-bill." "In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths. Lean not to thine own understanding."

Sometimes God sends warnings to us in extraordinary ways by extraordinary people and under improbable circumstances. I am conscious of the presence of this warning ministry in my life, though I have no words subtle and keen enough wherewith to express all that I feel on that solemn subject. Shall I shake hands with yonder man? I think I will; he looks healthy, he looks kind, and yet in the midst of all these hopeful lucubrations, my hand takes sudden palsy and I will not shake hands with him, and cannot. How so? There is a warning angel in my life. I, poor unsuspecting fool, would shake hands with every man who smiles upon me, for I have no eye for the detection of the villain's cheek, but the warning angel says, "Take care, go aside, he is a goodly apple rotten at the core."

Not only is there a warning ministry in this incident, there is also a watching ministry. The angel of the Lord watched Herod, watched the young child and his mother, watched the wise men. O those watchers that fill the air your mother, your child, your friend, your guardian angel every one of us has an angel-self to be seen only with the eyes of the soul's inspired imagination. They watch us night and day. "Are they not all ministering spirits, sent forth to minister to them who shall be the heirs of salvation?" I am alone, yet I am not alone, for God's angel is with me. Do not live a little fleshly life, do not shut yourself up within the limits of your constabulary arrangements and imagine that no eye is upon you but the eye of detective and suspicious law. Love watches, redemption, embodied in Jesus Christ, watches, we are beset behind and before, and there is a hand upon us, and a kind eye is behind the cloud, looking now and again upon our life, and flashing a tender morning ray upon our long-bound and darkness-wearied souls.

Learn from the next passage in the incident, that man's simple business in preplexity is to obey. "Joseph arose and took the young child and his mother by night, and departed into Egypt." Obedience sometimes requires activity. The angel said, "Arise and flee." That is the easiest part of obedience. There is no difficulty about fleeing, about exerting oneself; the blood heats, and activity is delight. God puts these calls to activity into our life at the right times and with the right measure of appointment. Why, you say, you would have died on the dear friend's coffin, but that you were obliged to arouse yourself to attend to the last obsequies. Kind is the way of God even in these matters. When death darkens your window and turns your day into night it always says to you, "Arise and flee, work, arrange, settle," and one of the first things you have to do in the midst of your intolerable agony is to bestir yourself. In that bestirring there is sometimes salvation.

After activity comes patience. The angel said, "And be thou there until I bring thee word." That is the hard part of life. Whilst I am climbing the mountains, passing through the wildernesses, daring dangers, I feel comparatively quiet, or even glad. But to sit down when the angel tells, me to sit, and not to stir till he comes back again who can do it? I inquire of the first man who comes near me, whether I cannot get away out of Egypt? He says he thinks I can if I try the next turn, and I, disobedient soul, move towards the next turn, and if a wolf sent of God did not show its gleaming teeth at me there, I would be off, so fond am I of activity and self-direction, and so impossible is it to me to sit still and see the outworking of the divine will.

The true interpretation of human purposes is from God. Herod said, "I will worship him, when you bring me word." The angel said, "Herod will seek the young child to destroy him." Herod said worship Herod meant destroy. The angel knows our meaning: God does not take our words always in the sense in which we offer them. He reads between the lines. He peruses the small print of the motive and of the inward and half-revealed or even half-formed desire. He shows us to ourselves. Sometimes when we say worship, he shows us by an analysis of our own acceptation of the term, that destroy is the proper meaning of our language. Lord, interpret my speech to me: I use words of false meaning, I think sometimes I mean to be religious show me that some religions are lies, and that some prayers are offences. Save me from being my own lexicographer: when I write a word, do thou, gentle Father, ever wise, write after it its true and proper meaning.

The young child, Mary and Joseph, are now at this point of the incident, away in Egypt. There are times of retreat in every great life, times when Christ must be driven into Egypt, when the prophet must be banished into solitude, when John the Baptist must be in the desert eating locusts and wild honey, when Saul of Tarsus must be driven off into Arabia times when we are not to be found. An asylum need not be a tomb, retreat need not be extinction. For a time you are driven away make the best of your leisure. You want to be at the front, instead of that you have been banished to the rear: it is for a wise purpose. Gather strength, let the brain sleep, yield yourself to the spirit of the quietness of God, and after what appears to be wasted time or unprofitable waiting, there shall come an inspiration into thy soul that shall make thee strong and fearless, and the banished one shall become the centre of nations.