A Chosen Few
/ and some few men with me,” — Nehemiah ii. 12.
THIS IS an Old Testament story which is full of advice for Christian workers. It is the account of a mighty revolution in a single city, and it all began in the concern of one great soul for the city lying in ruins and filled with despair.
The Scripture above quoted is a description of every great work in history. Mighty movements do not begin as a rule with a multitude, but rather with individual souls. If Nehemiah had been followed by the crowd as he went to view the desolation of Jerusalem he undoubtedly would have been disheartened, but when the city was lying waste, this cup-bearer to the king, with a sad countenance and a few attendants, went to view the ruins, and the Scripture is an illustration as to how the work was carried forward. What has been done in the past may be accomplished again in the future, and there is a call to-day for service such as the world has never known. A selfish Gospel is not the Gospel for the present age. To be saved one’s self, and to be satisfied with that, is unworthy the name of Christ and discredits the spirit of Christ. This reconstruction of the City of Jerusalem is highly suggestive. It began with the concern of one man. There is no
place for either indifference or selfishness in the Church.
Out of sucK concern as filled the soul of Nehemiah great movements have been born. The revival of 1800 began with one man upon his knees. There was an aged man in the State of Pennsylvania, who became deeply concerned for his State, and the then known Christian world. He was known as the “Praying Elder.” His name was Peter Jackson. He had a little hut in his woods, and back and forth to this hut he trudged daily and sometimes spent the night there upon his knees pouring out his soul in an agony of prayer, and as a result a wave of revival started, the force of which is felt to-day in the existence of some of the mightiest agencies the Church has ever known. Everywhere there is the direst need of service.
The other day in Chicago a little baby died in a home where there was the greatest poverty, and the poor father, distracted because he could not bury his child, nor could he beg money to give it a decent burial, started with the little body in his arms and intended to cast it into the furnace, and was only stopped by someone who made plain to him the enormity of his sin; but to the one who stopped him he said that he was driven to this frantic position because there seemed no one to answer the cry of his breaking heart.
iT here are so many wrongs to be righted, there are so many hearts that are breaking, there are so many homes that are desolate, that the call comes to us to-day more clearly and more emphatically than ever before. It is a sad thing to have it to say that too many of us doubtless are indifferent to this call.
This work of the reconstruction of the City of Jerusalem started with a few, and great movements are always thus inaugurated. We need not wait for the multitudes to start with us if we expect to accomplish much for God; that is not the way that daring deeds are accomplished. The call too is loud and clear for workers. Is it nothing to you as a Christian that on every side there is an open door of opportunity for the uplift of humanity, for the bearing of others’ burdens, for the dressing of others* wounds, for the healing of breaking hearts?
Not long ago in New YorE there was a great fire. The great building was so quickly wrapped in flames that escape seemed to be impossible. The imprisoned people within the structure came to the windows and called for help to be given them. Some became unnerved and threw themselves out from the windows. Heroes developed at that time. Lieutenant Bonner, son of a former fire chief, ascended the almost red-hot fire escape five times. Four times he came down with a woman or child in his arms. The fifth time he was making for the street with an unconscious woman when his strength gave out. He staggered and would have fallen to death had not a comrade come to his assistance.
As Bonner reached a fourth story window on one of his ascents and dragged a little girl from a window where she stood surrounded by flames, she pleaded with him to let her escape and go in after her little brother, whom she had carried to the window. He had fallen unconscious and was roasting, she said. Bonner jumped through the window, and it seemed to those below as if he was going into a furnace. He found the little boy just inside the window and carried him out. And it is inconceivable that a paid employee of a city should exhibit such heroism as this, simply because the call was emphatic and the need was great, and we should sit with folded hands in Church when all about us the cries are coming to us with equal force.
It was a journey in the night; this we read in the 12th verse of the 2d chapter. In a sense this is the day time of the Church. To the eye of faith the Church is a glorious Institution, what she has accomplished in the past has never been equalled in the world’s history, and what she may be able to accomplish in the future God alone can tell, because it is so great, and yet I question if there has ever been a time when there are so many clouds in the sky to darken the horizon. There are the most serious problems to settle — the temperance question, the question of social purity, the mad rush for wealth, the suffering of the people on every side.
Some time age there was a book announced in a catalogue, entitled “Martyrs Omitted by Fox.” If the subject be at all adequately treated, this should be a mighty story. For in every city, town and village there are martyrs who suffer heroically every day. Fettered by invisible chains, scorched by slow fires of cruel persecution in speech and deed, scourged by secret wrongs, and injustices, made to pass through poverty and disease, without ever passing into fame or notoriety, they are real but unsung martyrs, knowing the pang, but never seeing here the palm. Each of these is a call to us for help and from whom we cannot turn away as the true followers of Jesus Christ.
vThere was in this story also revealed the enthusiasm of the Leader. Nehemiah said, “Come, let us rebuild,” and the few men with him exclaimed, “Yes, let us rebuild,” “and all the wall was joined together unto the half thereof, for the people had a mind to work.” Our Leader in this great work is Jesus. He has never been equalled and never can be surpassed.
After the Battle of Lookout Mountain, when the Federal troops cleared the heights with a dash that was irresistible, General Grant sent to General Wood and asked, “Did you order the charge? “He said, *No.” To Hooker and to Sheridan the same inquiry was put, and from them the same response was received. The fact was that the men were filled with such enthusiasm that nothing could have stopped them. They leaped to the fray, defying danger and death, and when the victory was gained, were filled with glad wonder at it. When the Church of Christ is filled with enthusiasm for the conquest of the world it will go forward whether earthly leaders give the word of command or not.
The success of this work was great. There were two secrets to the success. The first was that the people had a mind to work, and when this is true naught can stand against the moving army. The second was that each built over against his own house, and this is ideal. It is useless to talk about helping others when those who live with us need the help which is denied them. It is heathenism to talk of preaching to the heathen when there are broken hearts in our own household needing comfort which is denied them. — ^- ‘’Just where thou art lift up thy voic And sing the song that stirs thy heart, Reach forth thy strong and eager hand To lift, to save, just where thou art**
Twenty-two years ago Lough Fook, a Chinese Christian, moved with compassion for the coolies in the South American mines, sold himself into slavery for a term of five years and was transported to Demerara that he might carry the Gospel to his countrymen thera
He toiled in the mines with them and preached Christ as he toiled, till there were scores of whom he could say, as Paul of Onesimus, “whom I have begotten in my bonds.” He died about twelve years ago, but not until he had won to the Saviour nearly two hundred disciples, whom he left behind in membership with the Christian Church, To a Christian Chinaman belongs the honour of coming so near to his Master in actual deed, for “He took upon Him the form of a slave,” It is this spirit which will always win out in our service under the direction of the Leader of Leaders, Jesus Christ.
SERVICE NEEDED’
It is needed for those who are about us, for wfiether we will or no we are our brother’s keeper. God will one day call us to account for the fact that while we may have had a general conception of the need of the world, our eyes have been blinded to the condition of those about us and our ears have been stopped to the cry of those who are at our own doors.
But it is needed more for ourselves.
For it IS impossible to be as we ought to be if we are doing little or nothing for Christ.
In one of the rooms of the Tursi Palace, now devoted to municipal uses, is preserved under a seal a precious Guameri violin of Paganini. Kocian, the Bohemian violinist, visiting Genoa, asked to be allowed to play on the instrument. The mayor granted the request and invited members of the aristocracy and several musicians. Kocian played one of Bach’s airs and a concerto of Paganini. The audience was greatly impressed. The violin was then replaced in the glass box, where it has rested sixty-five years, and was again sealed in the presence of the spectators. It is rather a pity that this magnificent violin, which was thrilled at the touch of a master’s hand, should live upon its past glories and be locked in its glass case, and yet many a so-called child of God is like that, and for the music which might thrill in their lives and the comfort and inspiration which might come from their presence, if the obligation is not met, there will be an accounting at the judgment seat of Christ
lThe kind of service
It IS tested service we must render.
The most novel as well as the most intricate and the most important piece of machinery in operation upon the Exposition grounds at St. Louis was an apparatus for testing the strength, speed, and other qualities of railway locomotives, and the results of which are automatically recorded — power, speed and resistance are all thus determined.
Resting upon a secure foundation of solid concrete is a set of wheels exactly similar in size and arrangement to those of the standard locomotive. It is reached by ordinary tracks and switches, and the locomotive to be tested comes in under its own steam and runs along upon a set of false rails until its wheels are poised exactly above the centre of the fixed wheels of the testing machine. It is then carefully lowered until the tires of the locomotive and the tires of the machine wheels come in contact The false rails are then removed, the engine is coupled to an immovable wall, the steam is turned on and the wheels of the locomotive begin to revolve upon the suppporting wheels, to which are attached, by delicate apparatus, dynamometres that automatically record the speed, the resistance, and the strength of the locomotive upon rolls of paper ruled for that purpose.
An engineer sits in the cab, a fireman is constantly shovelling coal into the furnace, columns of black smoke rise from the stack, and the steam hisses and whistles, and you can feel the throb of the heart of the powerful creature forty feet away. It quivers and pants and struggles, and the wheels revolve at the speed of a mile a minute, but it does not move an inch. Twenty-five or thirty men in greasy jimipers move about observing closely every feature of the test, and their ears as well as their eyes are alert, for the slightest change of sound is significant They notice the valves, the oil cups, the indicators; they inspect the quality of the coal and the manner of combustion, and when the test is completed they can compute the value of every otmce of fuel that has been consumed and can tell you exactly what the locomotive can do and what it will cost to do it. Alden dynamometres measure time, distance, load, and consumption of fuel. The energy which the engine shows is automatically recorded upon a web of paper, and the testers can regulate the load and the speed just as if it were actually upon the track.
I can quite understand how sucH a tested locomotive would say, if it could speak, “What does all this turning of wheels and puffing of smoke and steam mean? Here for hours all the machinery in my makeup has been moving and I have progressed not an inch over the track,” but when the testing is over and the locomotive is set to doing the service which it can so easily and profitably render, pulling the great and important freight train or carrying the 20th Century Express, I can hear the locomotive say,” Now I understand the testing.**
IT IS TRIED SERVICE
A party of travellers journeying through Japan, a few years ago, came upon an old artist in ivories. Among the carvings which he showed was one most exquisite piece for which he asked one hundred dollars. The price was not at all high for the work, and one of the party at once agreed to take it. Before surrendering it, however, the artist examined it minutely and the result of the examination was the discovery of a tiny imperfection, which he pointed out.
“That will make no difference,” the traveller answered. “No one but you would ever have discovered it; it need make no difference in the price.” “It is not a matter of price,” the artist replied, “no imperfect work ever goes from me at any price. 1 cannot sell you this,”
The traveller, incredulous, urged again his plea that none but the artist’s eye could ever see the blemish; he even offered a higher price still, but to all his arguments the old artist had but the one reply — he could not give his name to imperfect work; it was impossible. And from this decision nothing could move him.
How the spirit of the heathen artist rebukes us! Nothing was allowed to go from his shop that was not the best that he and those working with him could do, but we — what poor, half-hearted, shabby work we allow to bear the Master’s name!
And above all things it is a service inspired by love. In a recent Book entitled, “The Social Message to the Modem Pulpit,” the author says, “In these days men are saying * Money talks,’ and the expression means that money can say more and say it more effectually in inspiring men to action than any other voice, but this is not altogether true. Men will do much for material gain, but when money comes out into the open and talks in its loudest voice, it is altogether feeble when compared with the voice of love,” and the author says, “Some years ago there was a wreck on the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad and the engineer was scalded to death. While he was dying he called to a passing brakeman and said, * Get the red lamp and go back and flag Number forty-nine.’” It was love for his fellow-sufferers in the wreck and for those on Number forty-nine who might be wrecked that made him say it
In the same wreck the dining car conductor, with both legs broken, dragged himself along by the side of the track until with a portion of his coat, which he tore off, he plugged up the escape valve of the wrecked engine to prevent those who were in peril from being scalded. It was love that made him do it.
A new crusade is needed in these days led by the consecrated, members of the Church. There is a call to service such as we have never known before.
It is said that when the Russians were ready to build a railroad between Moscow and St Petersburg they laid a map before the Czar. With his pencil the Czar traced the route, he gave an order, and the work was begun.
And if this statement is true, as undoubtedly it is, what answer shall we make Him who bids us go forth, conquering and to conquer, who tells us that our mission is as wide as the world and promises to go with us every step of the way until at last we shall enter into His presence to hear Him say,” Well done, good and faithful servant enter into the joy of thy Lord.’*