The Call
“Now Moses kejit the flock of Jetliro his father-in-law, the priest of Midian: and he led the flock to the back-side of the desert, and came to the mountain of God, even to Horeb. And the Angel of the Lord appeared unto him,” etc. — Ex. iii. 1, 2.
The fortunes of the little Hebrew foundlincr we have so far traced. By a remarkable Providence we have seen the child of slavery transferred from the hovel to the palace, or rather from the jaws of the crocodile to the arms of a princess. AYe have seen him growing up a scholar, an inquiring spirit, intellectual and wxll informed, — a master of such wisdom as Egyt could supply; we have seen him coming out a hero and a patriot, even in the court of Pharaoh unable to forget that he was a Hebrew of the Hebrews; and at last, from devotion to his own down-trampled brethren, casting away all prospects of earthly promotion, and jeopardizing his life in the quarrel of his country. We have seen him the fugitive and the exile, and last Lecture we devoted to what is believed to have been one of the employments of his seclusion, and, without forgetting
S3 the Divine original of Genesis, we considered his claims and characteristics as the Father of History.
Quiet and happy lives make poor materials for biography. The tourist who journeys from Eotterdam up the Rhine seldom looks at the river, for whatsoever may be the wealth afloat on its bosom, whatsoever the fertility conveyed by its waters, there is nothing striking or arresting in its current; and it is only when vexed into rapids at the Lurlei, or when it comes in a thundering cataract down at Schaffhausen, that eyes which watched the clouds or ranged along the banks are recalfed to the forgotten stream. So of the three stages of his history Moses would probably have named as the happiest his forty years in the land of Midian. They were very obscure and inconspicuous. It was a great change from the court-end of Memphis, the fashionable quarter of Egypt’s metropoHs, to the back of the desert; it was a great change from a palace to the scanty accommodation of a tent, and from commanding an army it was a greater change to herding sheep. But “the mind is its own place,” and the greatest minds are the least dependent on outward accommodations. The pleasures of Egypt were far from unalloyed. They were too mainly the joys of sense, and were so mixed up with idolatrous observances as to pollute and poison them all, and make them no better than “pleasures of sin.” But with the meditative leisure he eD joyed amongst the lonely mountains, with the piety which he found in the homestead of the priest of Midian, and with the domestic affection to which he returned when in the cool of the day he brought back his flock to the canvas village, and Zi23porah and his boy came forth to meet him, he was thankful for his peaceful seclusion, and felt what another was afterwards to sing, “The Lord is my shepherd; He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness.”
There had once been a period when Moses had hoped to deliver Israel. How this hope had arisen — whether, as Josephus says {Ant. ii. 9. 3), a Divine premonition of his father had been communicated by Amram to his son, or whether his exalted position had wdiispered the hope to his patriotism, — sure enough not only had Moses been led to cherish the noble purpose, but (as Stephen relates) “he supposed his brethren would have understood how that God by his hand would deliver them.” That hope had been thwarted. It had been thwarted in circumstances as mortifying to self-love as they were calculated to quench his patriotism. “Who made thee a prince and a judge over us?” and after forsaking the court and casting himself on his own countrymen, they plainly told him that they did not want his services. Proscribed by the king and repudiated by his own brethren, nothing remained to him except to flee. And it would seem as if, in the asylum which he found, his ambitious projects had died away. Probably news did not travel very fast from Memphis to Midian, and in the mood of both Egyptians and Israelites it was prudent not to apprise any of his hiding-place. But all unconsciously the preparation was advancing in the school of God’s selecting; and of that preparation not the least was the meekening process in the mind of God’s destined agent and envoy.
John Knox was forty -two before he began to preach. To himself it was a great surprise when he was summoned to the work. Already in writing and in conversational discussion he had served the cause of truth; but when an unexpected appeal was made to him and a solemn charge laid upon him, “the said John, abashed, burst forth in most abundant tears, and withdrew himself to his chamber. His countenance and behaviour from that day till the day that he was compelled to present himself to the public place of preaching, did sufficiently declare the grief and trouble of his heart; for no man saw any sign of mirth of him, neither yet had he pleasure to accompany any man, many days together.” Yet it was no faltering in the faith, nor was it any fear for himself that made him hesitate; for when the next Sunday came and with it the first sermon, the hearers exclaimed, ^’ Others sned the branches of the Papistry, but he strikes at the root,” and others more ominously hinted, “George Wishart spake never so plainly, and yet he was burnt: even so will he be.” -^
In early life spirits are high and hope is sanguine, and therefore it is fortunate that in early life most persons get committed to their career. But Moses was about to commence an undertaking for which the self-reliance of a sanguine temperament would have been wholly insufficient. Had he been encouraged in his first attempt, had he found his compatriots ready to revolt when he was prepared to be their leader, we can imagine a successful insurrection. The Israelites were very numerous, and a sudden servile rising of half a million, most of them concentred in one region, might have found the effeminate Egyptians off their guard, and before they could rally an exodus might have been effected, and by a sudden dash across the shorter desert a portion of southern Canaan might easily have been wrenched from the unprepared inhabitants; and so in a few days and by a succession of brilliant strokes the bondage of centuries might have ended in a speedy and triumphant return to
1 Knox’s Work by Lain.?, i. 188, 192.
Palestine. In that event, however, the training and purifying processes of the long wilderness would have all been superseded, and instead of entering the Land of Promise a peculiar people, God-guided and God-governed, they would have tumultuated into their new abode a mob of self- emancipated slaves and self-gratulating victors, with the vices of Egypt still uncured, and utterly unfitted to subserve Jehovah’s special purpose.
In accordance, therefore, with the determinate counsel and foreknowledge of God, although much to the mortification of the moment, when in the flush of youthful enthusiasm — for at forty he was young — Moses offered his services, they were ungraciously declined, and the disapj)ointed patriot seems to have abandoned all hope of being Israel’s deliverer. But from the instant that he despaired of himseK he began to grow fit for God’s purpose. He whose way it has ever been to thrust down the mighty from their seats could now answer the question, “By whom shall Israel arise?” for Moses had grown humble and meek. In the long and sequestered years he had learned to know his own deficiencies, and in any work to which God might call him he was prepared to merge himself in the will of the Most High. Instead of rushing on the work in vain-glorious confidence, he would now feel that it was one which God alone could accomplish. Instead of starting up the self- constituted agitator and orator, lie was now prepared to go before Pharaoh in calm superhuman solemnity as Jehovah’s messenger. And instead of maturing his own plans and devising his own expedients, and giving forth his own orders, he was in that state of mind which no longer caters for applause, but, prefacing its oracles with “Thus saith the Lord,” ascribes of all prosperous achievement the glory to Him from whom all glories are.
When a youth leaves school or ends his course at college he is apt to feel a certain complacency. He knows three or four languages, and astronomy, and geography, and, in short, more or less of all things knowable. So learned is he that he would not like to be thought ignorant of anything, and would almost blush to be asked a question which he could not answer. But wait for twenty years; and although at the end of that time he has immeasurably extended his attainments, and is now so far a master or monopolist in some department as to receive homage from adepts and pilgrimages from strangers, — with himself far more profound than the sense of proficiency is the sense of imperfection, and whilst he sighs over vast departments on which he can never hope to enter, there is no phrase he uses oftener than the one formerly so much evaded, “I don’t know.” AVhen a man begins a religious life, there is apt to be a self-complacent stage in his incipient piety. His conduct is correct. Compared with some older Christians, there is more fervour in his zeal, more freshness in his feelings. In worship, praise and thanksgiving and intercession are the exercises in which his spirit is freely carried forth; he could almost dispense with confession. But as the years move on, he has apparently grown worse; for although others speak of him as so good a man, to take his own account his character is made up of desiderata, his career is all one shortcoming. There was once a time when Moses thought that he was the man to deliver v Israel. But now when God actually proposes it, he is startled, almost petrified. “Who am I, that I should go unto Pharaoh, and bring forth the children of Israel?” Are not you the son of Pharaoh’s daughter and the topmost man among your people — the fosterling of royalty — the favourite of fortune — the statesman and the sage? and if not you, who is there else? But all these proud swelling thoughts have long since subsided, and Moses has again in his own eyes dwindled down into the son of the Hebrew thrall and the herdman of Jethro’s cattle. And so as regarded superior sanctity, personal prowess, the gift of persuasive oratory — on every attribute of special aptitude for such a work he founded a special difficulty; and the man who earlier in the day had been so little deterred by any felt deficiency that he would have volunteered on the service, now that he is summoned to assume it he has only one plea after another: “They will ask me, What is God’s name? They will not believe me. They will say, The Lord hath not appeared unto thee. And then, 0 my Lord, I am not eloquent.”
From a subsequent expression of his father-in-law (iv. 18), it would seem as if Moses had little idea how affairs were proceeding in Egypt; but a new crisis had arisen. The old king was dead. In all likelihood this was an event to which his hapless vassals had looked forward with hope; for however profligate and unprincipled a young prince may be, he is seldom so cruel as a surly old tyrant. But in this instance a Claudius was followed by a Nero, and when the wretched bondmen found that the new sovereign meant to carry through the harsh measures of his father, their spirits failed. They could no longer cheat their misery with the hope of change. They could no longer cheer one another with bulletins of the old king’s failing strength and advancing infirmities. The new king was young and strong, and in the course of nature would see half of them into their graves; and with his iron heart and savage humour it was a fearful prospect for themselves and their children. But having no heir-apparent now to look to, they looked
—where few of them, it is to be feared, had looked before — they looked to the Lord; and as the cry of their agony pierced the heavens, “God heard their groaning.” He remembered His covenant with Abraham, and slight as was the personal claim of the suppliants, He recalled His promise to their believing fathers and resolved to deliver them. But Israel saw no sign. There was no diminution of their tasks, no mollifying on the part of their inexorable masters, no hint of release or holiday: but the sky burnt hot and the rod fell hard as ever. Nay, there was not even an angelic messenger, nor a prophet sent from among their brethren to bid them bear up and hold on. Yet it was all in motion: the Lord had arisen out of His place and deliverance was at hand; for whilst they were weeping and slaving and pouring forth the petitions of despair in Egypt, the bush was already burning in Horeb and the appointed deliverer was receiving his instructions and commission, and hastening on the path of rescue.
Wherever there is prayer God is present; nay, wherever there is prayer on the part of man, there is an immediate answer on the part of God, although that answer is not always instantly perceptible. The cry may go up from Egypt and the answer may come down at the back of the desert. Nay, God Himself may have come down to the very spot, and may be surveying the sorrow and sustaining the sufferer with a secret but powerful support; and yet, as there is no voice to break the silence, no visible glory to irradiate the gloom, the groaning may still go on and for a time the suppliant may continue to exclaim, “Hath God forgotten to be gracious?”
What makes your misery? Perhaps you suffer through your fellow- men, through man’s unfairness or man’s oppression. You make bricks for the Egyptians. You serve an unkind or thankless master. You are unequally yoked with a companion morose and savage. If so, without omitting any reasonable measure for redress, your true refuge is in prayer. And hitherto all your efforts at extrication may have been allowed to fail just on very purpose to shut you up to this, the true and God-glorifying resource. So, without losing longer time, cry you to God, and He will hear your groaning, and will come down and deliver you. By softening some stern nature, by opening some stubborn door, by raising up and sending to the rescue some forgotten or unexpected Moses, He will show that your extremity is His opportunity; that there are no circumstances which Omnipotence cannot conquer; no jarring elements or conflicting interests which Infinite Wisdom cannot reconcile.
What makes your misery? You are perhaps in slavery. You are serving divers lusts and passions. The Hebrew is in bondage to the Egyptian. The higher, finer nature is in subjection to the coarser and the worse. You know it, and you sometimes feel it; and as you look on the ignominious fetters, and shake the chains which gall you, you exclaim, “0 wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me?” And you are beginning to see that you cannot deliver yourself. You have tried both force and flight, you have knocked down your tyrant and tormentor, and you have also run away. But here you are again, the slave of appetite, the victim of strong drink, the gambler, the libertine, throwing away your substance in the devil’s service, and into the bricks that are to build your own prison kneading up your health, your peace of mind, your reputation. Oh it is a bitter, bitter bondage! the immortal in thraldom to tlle brute; the foul fiend leading to and fro, with a rope around his neck, one who might have been the heir of heaven! But if you really loathe it, and cry to God by reason of the bondage. He will come down and set you free. His Holy Spirit entering will fill you with a joy and happiness which will leave no lack and find no need for the pleasures of sin; and, inspiring you with new and noble tastes, He will fortify you so as to resist and vanquish the temptations which will still be sure to come, until a better nature gets gradually built up within, a nature on which gross allurements exert no more attraction than the garbage which brings the raven to your feet has power to lure the turtle from the bough; than the husks which the swine do eat have power to bend an angel from his flight. This is a kind which goes out by prayer and fasting. So cry to God. For the glory of His holy name, and for the sake of His interceding Son, beg that He would break that chain with which you have so long been bound, and the links of which your own hands have forged in days of delirious folly; beg that He would loose you from your bond this very Sabbath-day.
What makes your misery? Perhaps you are in bondage to a broken and threatening law. A law fulfilled is friendly, and such is the law to which the believer does homage; a law fulfilled by his Representative, and therefore coming to himself, not to curse and condemn, but to counsel and control, to regulate and guide; a law that is friendly and propitious for the sake of the law-magnifying Surety, the law-fulfilling Saviour. But perhaps the only law you know is the law which you have broken, and which frowns and looks severe, and says evermore, — “The soul that sinneth, it shall die.” Or, to put it more plainly, you want to reach the j)romised land of peace and reconciliation, but you have in. the meanwhile got into a house of bondage. You have fallen into the hands of a taskmaster, whom we shall call the Commandment, and you say to yourself, “If I could only please this rigid overseer for a while, he would allow me to quit Egypt at last, and I should go on my way rejoicing. But he is so strict and stern. I have no sooner done one thing than he calls me to account for another. I said my prayers this morning as seriously as possible, and was rather pleased with myself because I read my chapter with some pleasure, when on a sudden provocation T lost my temper, and all my happiness took flight. A few days ago I was beginning to hope the best, for I was conscious of so much obligingness and charity and general good- will; when the spell was broken, and my love to the brethren was sensibly impaired by that primary and impracticable requirement, ‘Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart and soul.’ To confess the truth, in the way that he haunts and harasses me I feel as if my Lord’s commandment did me more harm than good. He exacts bricks without providing straw; and when I begin to brighten up and ask if I am not doing well, he flourishes in my face a long list of faults and errors, and positively, by his severe and peremptory tone, he is like to put me out of love with goodness, and drive me to despair.” Such at least was the experience of an earnest, anxious man, who has left his memoirs in the 7th to the Romans, and who tells us, “Sin taking occasion by the commandment, wrought in me all sorts of bad desires; and the commandment, which was originally ordained as the way to life, I found the means of death.” And so will it ever be as long as you continue in the house of bondage, resting your hope on your own prospective holiness; resting your hope on propitiating that law which has no power to pardon, only the power to command and threaten and condemn. But from this legal bondage, this thraldom to a threatening, frowning law, the Lord Jesus offers to deliver you; and this by doing no disparagement to the law itself, which He has magnified and made honourable, and all whose righteous requirements He fondly and loyally fulfilled. If to this greater than Moses you listen, “the law of the life-giving Spirit in Him will make you free from the law of sin and death.” Crucified for your offences, and raised again for your justification, you will find expiation for the past in His sacrifice, and merit for the present in His spotless obedience. Made free by the Son, you shall be free indeed, and “walking” not in laxity, but “at liberty,” the taskmaster-precept will be transformed into a commandment holy, just, and good, and the mercenary obedience of the slave into the devotion of the affectionate disciple.
1 Rom. viii. 2.
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I shall enter no further on the narrative at present. There was a famous column in the Forum at Rome, and all the roads of the empire led to it, and their miles were measured from it. The Milliarium of the Bible — the centre of its system — is the Cross. All its paths lead thither. To-night we started from the back of the desert — we began our walk among the bleak ravines of Sinai; and now, inevitably and by simply going on, we find ourselves in sight of Calvary. And we won’t turn back. Let us go away looking at Him who took upon Himself the form of a servant in order to deliver us from a double slavery — from bondage to sin, and bondage to a cursing, because broken, law. My beloved hearers, are you sure of it? Has Christ given you this twofold liberty — deliverance from the bondage of corruption; deliverance from the penalty of a violated covenant, a broken commandment? Or, taking this last as the first, Have you found that “the wages of sin is death; but that the gift of God is eternal life, through Jesus Christ our Lord”? Have you learned with Luther, “Like as the earth engendereth not rain, nor by her own strength and travail is able to procure it, but receives it from above, the mere gift of God; so that other gift of God, eternal life through a Mediator, is given us without our works or deservings? Look then, as much as the earth is able to do ill procuring the shower that makes it fresh and fruitful, — so much can our strength and works achieve in winning that heavenly boon of God’s eternal righteousness. It is God’s unspeakable gift, and is ours by His mere imputation.”
And has that same Divine Emancipator who proclaims liberty to the captives and the opening of the prison to them that are bound, has He rescued you from the bond of iniquity, from besetting sins, from the despotism of imperious lusts and passions? If you fear not yet, let your cry go up to Him now. There is no need that you should die in the dungeon; no need that you should perish with Satan’s fetters on your limbs, with a sinful habit entwined and twisted round your soul. Cry to God. In rage and revenge against the accursed thing, cry to God to remember His covenant with His own beloved Son, and look down in pity on your struggle with this crucifier of Christ, this vampire which has fastened on you, and is draining the life’s blood of your immortal soul. He is very gracious. Most tender are His mercies, most prompt and present is His aid. He will surely see your affliction, and will hear your cry by reason of this taskmaster. He knows yoiu? sorrows, and will come down to deliver you; and in due time will bring you to a good land and a large, even a better than that land which flowed with milk and honey.