Guidance by Inferior Motives

“And he the lame man at the gate Beautiful gave heed unto them, expecting to receive something of them. Then Peter said, Silver and gold have I none; in the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth rise up and walk.” — Acts hi. 5, 6.

“Expecting to receive something,” We are all led on by expectations beneath the reality. We sit at the Beautiful Gate for the sake of silver and gold. The child in the Sabbath School never dreams that its prize is the lesson; it works with a view to the excursion. The boy in the day-school deems not that his prize is knowledge; he strives for the gold or silver medal. God always brings us to the Beautiful Gate by the hope of inferior things. We come to anoint a dead body with spices; we get more than we bargained for — a living Christ.

My Father, I thank Thee that Thou hast led me to the beautiful by human aids and motives. I never could have come for the reality; that was above my understanding. It was of no use to say to me, “You are impotent in your limbs; let me teach you to walk” I had forgotten the joy of walking. I had no remembrance of the glad sense of locomotion; I needed a lower motive than the vigour of manhood. And so, my Father, Thou camest to me with the grapes of Eshcol. They clustered on the tree; they glittered in the sun. They appealed to all that belonged to me — my senses. I longed to get near them; I struggled to approach them. I began to sigh for the power of movement. It was only a sigh for grapes, not yet for manhood; yet it was accepted by Thee. It was counted to me for righteousness. Thy love imputed to my longing more than was there. It did not repel me from the Beautiful Gate, though I expected less than Thee. I walked with Thee rather for the view than for the company, yet Thou didst not send me away. O Love, Divine Love, unselfish, unjealous Love, I marvel in retrospect at Thee. I marvel at Thy self-forgetfulness, the sinking of all pride.

the regardlessness of personal victory. I followed Thee for the bread in the desert, for the wine in Cana, for the hosannas in Jerusalem. My lower motive was known to Thee, Yet Thou didst bid me come. My poverty of heart was before Thee, yet Thou didst bid me come. The meanness of my rags was in Thy sight, yet Thou didst bid me come — content if even for the love of silver I should stand by the golden gate.