The Influence That Is Immortal

“Abel offered a more excellent sacrifice than Cain, and by it he, being dead, yet speaketh.”” — Hup. xi. 4,

HERE is only one influence that will speak

to all ages; it is sacrifice — the giving up

of something in the cause of right. That is the only thing known to me which appeals equally to every generation of men. All other experiences are changed by the years. Manners change; customs change; apparels change; tastes change; ideals of beauty change; the fashion of each successive age passes away. Cain was a great man in his time, Esau was a great man in his time, Saul was a great man in his time; but it cannot be said of any of these, “By that greatness he, being dead, yet speaketh.” Nobody would now admire Cain — not even the bad man. Nobody would now admire Esau — not even the selfish man. Nobody would now admire Saul — not even the vain man. Cain and Hsau and Saul do not “speak” to us — do not appeal to us. We do not feel that they are moderns. There is a far-away sound about their voices as if they were talking through a mist; and so they are — the mist of vanished years. But there is one region of the past which is always modern and whose voices do speak to us. There are birds of Eden which sing in modern London, in modern Paris, in modern Rome, and there is no fainting in their song. There are flowers of old Israel which we meet in the gardens of Europe, and there is no fading in their colours. What are these birds of eternal song, what are these flowers of perpetual bloom? They are the sacrifices of the heart. Time writes no wrinkle on the deeds of sacrifice. The ark of the Israelites is worn and old; the shout of the Philistines is far off and feeble. But the love of Jonathan and David is as young as yesterday; the devotion of Ruth to Naomi is as modern as this morning; the affection of Joseph for his brethren is as fresh as an autumn field. The sacrificial spirit belongs to all ages. It annuls the differences of time. On that mount Moses and Elias can speak to Peter and John, and forget the centuries between. They were all sacrificial lives, and therefore time is for them indifferent. The yearnings of the heart make us independent of the years; they speak not to men but to man.

But, my soul, is it only by example that the dead can speak to thee! Have the Abels of the past no actual voice by which they can commune with thee! I think they have — and it is a voice tuned by the spirit of sacrifice. Is it not written of the celestial band, “They are all ministering spirits.” If a higher life would speak to thee, it must first bend to thee. Wouldst thou speak to a child, then must thou first empty thyself into the child’s experience. Thou must see with his eyes, hear with his ears, move with his feet, think with his mind, fee! with his heart. If Elijah comes back in his chariot he must put on his mantle again — the common dress of earthly days. Of all things in this world below, what thinkest thou will be most useful in the world above? I will tell thee — it is thine hours of sacrifice, thy moments of loss. Nothing else will be so valuable yonder — not riches nor honour nor glory. It is thy clouds that are training thee; it is thy burdens that are expanding thee; it is thy times of arrest that are promoting thee. Thou callest them God’s silences; they will be the organs of thy speech one day. Thy crosses shall make thee a comforter; thy hardships shall make thee a helper; thy clouds shall make thee a cleanser. By thy stripes thou shalt strengthen; by thy pains thou shalt pity; by thy falls thou shalt forgive; by thy mists thou shalt minister; by thy battles thou shalt bear; by thy griefs thou shalt guide; by thy days of sorrow thou shalt have doors of sympathy. Thou shalt speak by thy sacrifices, O my soul.