The One Thing to Do
WE have but one thing to do in any circumstances — to obey Christ. We have nothing to do with the question of wisdom or unwisdom. Peter thought lie knew all about fishing, but when his Master bade him cast the net at a certain point, though he thought nothing would come of it, his reply was: “At thy word I will.” It would make Christian life a great deal more simple for us if we would get it definitely settled in our minds that obedience is the one thing in discipleship. It is never ours to consider the expediency of any command that is given to us, or to inquire as to the probabilities of success or failure in what we are bidden to do. The moment our duty is clear, it is ours to do it without question, without doubting, without reasoning. It is the lack of this prompt, energetic, unreasoning obedience that is the cause of so much indefiniteness, indecisiveness, vacillation, and weakness in many Christian lives. We say we are saved by faith, and our thought of faith is apt to become intellectual, theological, or perhaps emotional. But the faith that counts with God is the faith that obeys instantly, and without question, every word of Christ. “Whatsoever he saith unto you, do it,” is the law of Christian life. The lesson applies to our work in this world. What are we here for. God has a plan for every life, and for each individual life. There is no jumbling together of people, indistinguishably, in crowds, in the divine plan. Even the least and the lowHest life has a place all its own in the universe of God, which it must fill, or there will be a blank in the great scheme. Dr. Peabody says:” Taken by itself, your life is certainly a very insignificant affair; but placed as you happen to be placed, in a universe which God has made, your life becomes of infinite importance. For God has
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chosen to work out His plan not in spite of jou, but through jou; and where you fail He halts. Almighty God needs you. ... It is as though you were a lighthouse keeper, set to do your duty on your bare rock. Can any life be more unpraised or insignificant? Why sit through the weary nights to keep your flame alive? Why not sleep on, all unobserved, and let your little light go out? Because it is not your light — that is the point. You are not its owner — you are its keeper. That is your name — you are a light-keeper. You are set there with this as a trust.” It is this that lifts our little life out of insignificance and gives us an importance in the universe of God which is stupendous in its grandeur and its responsibility. To fail in our place is to interrupt some purpose of God. How are we to find out what our place in the universe is, and what we ought to do with our life? Does anyone know, and can anyone show us, but He whose we are, who has made us and planned for our course? We see at once that if we leave Gcd out of our life, ig- [109] nore Him, fail to recognize Him as our Master, seek no direction and guidance from Him, we can only wreck our career. The only ambition in life that is wise and safe is the ambition to be what God made us to be, to do what God sent us into the world to do, to fulfil the divine purpose for our life. And it follows that only Christ can guide us in choosing our place and our work. Many young people stand hesitating long when the time comes for them to decide upon their life course. Ask the divine Master what He wants you to do. Perhaps the answer will not be to your taste. You do not incline to it, or you think you have not the qualification for it. Do you think your all-wise Master would call you to this work or duty if He did not know that you can do it, and do it well.? When God came to Moses in the wilderness, where he was herding a few sheep, and called him to lead his people out of bondage, Moses begged off. God had to reason with him and urge him before he would consent. Suppose he had continued to plead his unfit- [110]
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ness, his inability, and had finally refused, what would the refusal have meant to Moses? Think of the honor he would have missed. One writes:
“Had Moses failed to go, had God
Granted his prayer, there would have been
For him no leadership to win,
No pillared fire, no magic rod,
No wonders in the land of Zin,
No smiting of the sea, no tears
Ecstatic shed on Sinai steep.
No Nebo, with a God to keep
His burial; only forty years
Of desert, watchirig with his sheep.’[
We do not know what noble service we are refusing, what high honor we are missing, when we decline the work to which God calls us, either because it is not to our taste or because it seems too hard for us or is too obscure. Why should we differ in judgment from our Master when He asks us to do anything for Him, when He calls us to any particular work? Why should we tell Him that we cannot do what He bids us to do? Does [HI] not He know what we can do better than we do? Was not this His thought for us before we were born? Has not He made us for the very service to which He would now send us?
Sometimes people think they are showing humility when they decline some important work which comes to them. They say they are not worthy to do it. Humility is one of the noblest of the graces. But it is not true humility that shrinks from any call or bidding of God. It was not true humility in Moses that pleaded unfitness for the service to which the Lord was calling him. It would not have been humility in Peter or John if they had told Jesus that they were not worthy to be apostles, or had not education enough. It is not humility in any Christian that says, “I cannot; I am not good enough; I am too insignificant,” when he is wanted by the Master for any Christian work. It is not humility — it is disobedience; it is refusing to take the place for which you were made. Though the work to which we are called may not be alto- [112]
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gether to our mind, though it really seems too great for us, too honorable, or requires too much wisdom or skill, if Christ commands it, let us answer, “Master, I will do it.” Then as we leap forward to obey, all the strength and wisdom we need for the work will be given to us.
Another application of the lesson is to the events and circumstances of our lives. Simon thought the command of his Master did not show practical wisdom. Jesus did not understand fishing. Simon knew far more about that particular subject than his Master did. So he was not disposed to drop his nets into the deep waters. Yet, not to grieve his Lord, he did obey Him. Instantly he learned that Jesus really knew about fishing. Jesus knows about everything. The way He would lead us does not seem to us the best way. We cannot see how good can come out of this particular experience. But here again we may depend upon the wisdom and the love of Christ. Is He not wiser than we are? Does not a child, with even common thoughtfulness, soon learn [113] a l$tavt (BatDen
that there are matters which a good and wise father understands better than the child does?
*’ A little child, with lessons all unlearned,
And problems all unsolved, before me stands. With tired, puzzled face to me upturned, She holds her slate within her outstretched hands: ‘My sums are hard; I cannot think to-night; Dear father, won’t you make the answer right?’”
We understand this in children who have learned that their father is wiser than they are. Why should not we older children learn that there are things in which our Father is wiser than we, and that we should be willing to entrust to His care every experience of our lives?
“And so I come to thee, 0 Father, dear.
My lessons are so hard, my brain so weak, Life’s problems all unsolved, my way not clear. The answers wrong. Thy wisdom I would seek;
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/ am so tired, and sad, and worn to-night — Oh, take my lije and make the answer right.”
The evangelist, Mr. Charles M. Alexander, relates a story he heard a woman tell in a Friends’ meeting. She quoted the words in the prophet’s description of the Messiah, “The government shall be upon His shoulder.” Then she gave two illustrations. She told first of a good woman with a large family and many household cares, who became very ill. She was in great distress, not knowing how she could be spared from her tasks, how the affairs of her home could be carried on without her. Then an old and trusted servant came into her room and volunteered to take charge of everything. “Give yourself no anxiety,” she said. “Everything will go on beautifully.” So the good woman turned over everything to the faithful servant — her pocketbook, her keys, all the care and all the planning. So we may trust Christ with all our affairs and let Him do all for us. “The government shall be upon His shoulder.” [115] a ieart cBartien
The other story was of a boy who was out driving with his father. The father said: “You may choose to-day where we shall go, on what roads and to what places.” The boy replied: “No, father, I do not want to choose the way. You alwa3ls choose the loveliest roads and find the way to the most beautiful spots. I know I could not make the drive half so pleasant as you will.” Then the father said: “Would you not like to drive, then?” But again the boy declined. “I don’t want to drive, father. You drive so carefully. You always find the smoothest roads. You never take the wrong way. You never run against stones. If I drove I know I should run over rough places, and we would be jolted. I would rather have you drive.” The boy had learned that his father could find better ways and would drive more safely than he could, and so he preferred just to sit in the carriage and let his father choose the way. When we read of Christ that the government is upon His shoulders, why should we not rejoice to leave in His hands the guidance and [116]
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the protection of our lives? Think how wise He is — knowing all things, knowing how to choose the best for us. Who does not know that this is better, safer, wiser than if we were to choose the way for ourselves? Martin Luther, referring to care for to-morrow says: “I have one preacher that I love better than any other on earth; it is my little tame robin, who preaches to me daily. I put his crumbs upon my window sill, especially at night. He hops onto the window sill when he wants his supply, and takes as much as he desires to satisfy his need. From thence he always hops to a little tree close by, lifts up his voice to God and sings his carol of praise and gratitude, then tucks his little head under his wing, goes fast to sleep, and leaves to-morrow to look after itself. He is the best preacher that I have on earth.” We sometimes say that love is the greatest thing in the world, but love always ends in obedience. We say faith is great, and so it is. It will remove mountains. It enables us to do impossible things. But faith always leads ^[117] a ieart (KatDcn
to obedience. So there is a sense in which obedience is the greatest thing in the world. No matter where, we are, in what circumstances, in what confusions and perplexities, we have only to find the will of the Master and do it. No matter in what troubles we are, in what meshes of trial, in what plots of enemies, this is always the way out. The way to the light, to the joy, to the liberty, is along a plain, straight way — the way of obedience.
^’ / said unto myself: ‘My way is barred; The cliff is high and grim and tempest-scarred.’ Yet step by step I mounted it, till, lo, I felt the free air on the summit blow!
“I said unto myself: ‘My strength is small. And I am weary and I fear to fall.’ And lo! an angel took me by the hand And led me safely where I feared to stand.’’
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‘Tis the Master who holds the mallet,
And day by day
He is chipping whatever environs
The form away,
Which, under his skilful cutting,
He means shall be
Wrought silently out to beauty
Of such degree
Of faultless and full perfection.
That angel eyes
Shall look on the finished labor
With new surprise,
That even His boundless patience
Could grave His own
Features upon such fractured
And stubborn stone.
—Margaret Preston.
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