The Need of Preliminary Shelter

‘ Hide the outcasts.” — Isa. xvi. 8.?

HAT a singular expression of philanthropy! I should have expected the words to be, “Reform the outcasts, cleanse the outcasts, redeem the outcasts!” But the prophet saw deeper. He saw that there is something wanted previous to reform — protection, hiding. He has struck the keynote of the difference between the gospel of the Pagan and the gospel of the Christ. The Pagan says, “Let them be cleansed and come in”; Christ says, “Let them come in and be cleansed.” The Pagan says, “Wash your stains and enter the temple”; Christ says, “Enter the temple and I will wash your stains.” The Pagan says, “Put on your best robe and repair to the banquet”; Christ says, “Repair to the banquet, and I will give you the best robe.” The most unique feature of Christ is His claim to be

q al “a, hiding place from the wind and a covert from the tempest.” What does that mean? Clearly this, that He will take you in before the calm comes. He does not say, “When it is fine weather I will visit you.” No; He says, “I will come to you when it is yet wind and rain; I will bring a canvas tent, and shelter you.” Hundreds will come out to you when the storm has ceased; but you will need something more than that. Is there to be no refuge wm the storm! Your brother-man is waiting for your signs of good character. He is looking at the ship tossing on the sea; he says, “When it is calm, I will take a boat and bring you in.” But will no one bring the beat when the wind is high and the waves are rough and the tempest is roaring! Will no one enter into your life when it is battered and bruised and broken! Will no one take you up when you are disgraced and tabooed and scorned! Will no one send a dove into your deluge while yet the peak of Ararat is unseen, while yet the rainbow is undiscerned in the sky! One alone has trodden that winepress, and there was none of the people with Him — the Perfectly Sinless, the Son of Man.

Come out upon my sea, O Lord, come out upon my sea! While the waters are still rolling, while the tempest still is high, come out upon my sea! Walk upon my waters while yet they are troubled, ere ever a voice has said, ‘Peace, be still”! Unto whom ean I call but unto Thee! No one else will meet me in the storm. Plato will not; he will meet only calm souls. Moses will not; his Sinai has no cleft for the uncleansed. John Baptist will not; he cuts down all trees that bear no fruit. The voices of this world are all crying, “Ye that have found rest, enter into the kingdom!” But I hear another voice, a unique voice, a voice that reaches further down the stream, “Come unto Me all ye that labour, and I will give you rest!” It says, “Let your warrant be your want; let your claim be your cloud; let your right be your wretchedness; let your token of sonship be your tossing in the storm!” It calls to me in my cold; it rings to me in my rags; it peals to me in my poverty; it trills to me in my trespasses; it kills for me the fatted calf when I am still in the far country. Many ‘voices have offered me a home for my quiet ‘hours; Thou alone hast promised me a covert in my storm.