The Blemishes Revealed by Light
Genesis xxxii. 31 v.
“As he passed over Penuel the sun rose upon him, and he halted upon his thigh.”
What a strange combination! — darkness and light. As he passed over the place of his former struggle he had a double experience — 11 the sun rose upon him,” and, “he halted upon his thigh.” There was at one and the same moment a blaze and a blemish — glory around his head, and weakness in his walk. Was there a contradiction in the sight? No; it is the law of the Divine life. Our halt is never felt till the sun rises, not clearly seen till the sun rises. There are no blemishes so marked as the blemishes of a purified soul. When the whole pool is stagnant, the special impurity is not seen; but when the cleansing is far advanced, one speck becomes marvellous. I never look so humble to my fellow-men as when the sun of Penuel is over me. Its very brightness shows the faults in my form. Men talk more of my one evil deed than of the ninety-and-nine evil deeds of those that never saw Penuel, that never knew the rising of the sun. They say: “He must be a hypocrite. How can the lambent flame enwrap the lame figure? Can the head of the image be of gold when the feet are of contemptible clay?”
Yes, it can; and for this T thank Thee, oh, my Father. I thank Thee that the halting in my step does not imply that the sun is not risen. Often have I been distressed by the survivals of my dead self; I have met on the mountain what I fancied I had left in the valley. Yet, I am not therefore disloyal to Thee, untrue to Thee. Two lives are in me — the old and the new. In the city of Thy New Jerusalem there are vacant spaces that tell of an olden time. They tell of a time when there was no city, when it was all open-country and silent fields. Gradually, Thy city is breaking my solitude. Step by step the silent fields are being invaded, and the voices of the crowd are filling the waste places of my heart. Thou hast not yet come up with me, oh, my Father j Thy New Jerusalem is only building, and the wastes wait for Thee. To-morrow, they shall be vocal. To-morrow, a multitude shall clap their hands where the trees of the forest once stood. To-morrow, the streets shall be paved, and the feet shall tread unspotted over the miry clay. To-day, the halting and the sunshine are side by side. When Thy city shall reach its bounds, I shall traverse, as well as see, the path of gold.