Service in Prostration

“Thus saith the Lord, The people which were left of the sword found grace in the wilderness: even Israel, when I went to cause him to rest.” — JER. xxxi. 2.

HAT a strange time to find grace ! — in the

wilderness ! — in the place where the means of grace are not expected to be found! There is a deeper paradox still. Jeremiah says that the grace came just at that moment when the fate of Israel seemed most hopeless. It came when God “caused her to rest” in the wilderness — forbade her to advance. Do you and I not know such times in our life — times of enforced inactivity. I think, of all seasons of adversity, they are the worst to bear. No labour of the hand is half so irksome as the hand’s paralysis. There is something which is a harder trial than either labour or ladenness;

it is to be laid aside from both. The wilderness is bad enough; but to be compelled to lie down in the wilderness, to be forced to fold the hands in the desert, to be forbidden to take a step towards extrication from the calamity — this is surely a fearful thing, the most fearful thing of all! And yet it was from these dread times of enforced inaction that Israel’s glory sprang. She never sang so sweetly as at night. It was when her harp-string was broken that her melody was most melodious. It is from the desert that she sings the song of Balaam. It is from mountain caves that she sings the songs of David. It is from a land of exile that she sings the songs of Ezekiel and Jeremiah. It is from the ruins of her dead past that in front of her second temple her greatest psalmists sing. The fragrance of the ointment has come from the shattered box; at the evening time there has been light. Other empires have reached their glory at the top of the hill; Israel has found grace in the wilderness — greatness in her hour of prostration.

My brother, are you surprised that God should compel you at times to rest — should weaken your strength in the way, should curtail your power of action. Are you surprised that He should arrest the building of your temple or interrupt your missionary journey or lay you aside from active service. Have you ever considered that there is a service of God which is not active. Have you ever considered that there are things which come into this world only to be. The poet speaks of flowers born to blush unseen and waste their sweetness on the desert air. Why “waste”? Are there not three voices of the verb “to live” — “being,” “doing,” and “suffering”! There are flowers of the garden; they make garlands of joy; they deck the bouquet, they adorn the triumph. There are flowers of the hospital; they minister to the weary eyes of those in pain. But there are also flowers of the forest; they have no mission to man whatever; they are unobserved by human eye. Are they, then, wasted? No; they have fulfilled their destiny. They have come into the world simply to be. Their mission is to declare that being is itself beautiful. Why was your infant born that lived but for a day? To prove the value of one spark of life in the eyes of your Father — to show that even where there is no wood and no lamb for the burnt-offering the fire itself in His sight is infinitely precious. Say not that there is no grace in the wilderness! Say not that there is no manna in the desert! Say not that the music of the stream is useless when it strikes upon no ear! The brook sings not in vain if it sings to your Father. The bird carols not idly if it carols to its God. The flower blooms not wastefully if it blooms in the heart of Heaven. You may be content to lie on your bed and be silent if you can say with the Psalmist, “My voice shalt Thou hear in the morning.”