The Zeal of Paul
“IT IS GOOD TO BE ZEALOUSLY AFFECTED.”
These words come to us with a peculiar force from such a man as the apostle of the Gentiles. From the lips of no man would they fall more gracefully or more appropriately than from one whose whole life had been an exemplification of zeal; who, while he had continued the service of the devil, had plied the bloody work of persecution with a terrible activity, and when overwhelming grace burst upon him on his way to Damascus, cried out in the fervor of sanctified energy, Lord! what wilt thou have me to do?’
Paul was emphatically an earnest man. David and Isaiah were perhaps more sublimely eloquent men. Elijah was clothed with a more awful miraculous power. Solomon possessed more of earthly wisdom. The beloved disciple who rested on the bosom of our Lord, had a more heavenly sweetness of temper. But in the zeal that confers not with flesh and blood — the zeal that rejoices in abundant labors, in stripes above measure, in weariness and watchfulness and tears; the zeal that counts not even life dear, but cries out exultingly, ‘/ am ready to he offered — in this, the great apostle outshone them all.
This zeal no waters could quench. Wo Euroclydon tempests could fright it. N’o prison dungeons “or royal judgment halls could shake it. No labors or painful watchings could weary it. On through every dungeon, and over every difficulty, and in spite of every obstacle, he went in his holy mission, and became even * all things to all men,’ if by any means he might allure them up to those heights of serene joy on which his own soul was ever basking.
The examples of his zeal that are given in the holy record, are not isolated instances in a life of sluggishness. They were the fruits of a spiritual fervor so great, that if seen but on one occasion, might have appeared to be the overflow of a momentary enthusiasm; but the regularity and constancy of their occurrence showed them to be but the customary and natural actings of a soul always impelled by the same living and lofty principle; so that his everyday efforts more than equalled the extraordinary and (as it were) spasmodic efforts of mere enthusiasts.
“When I reach heaven,” said an aged saint, just then ascending the Delectable Mountains, “I shall love to talk with the Apostle Paul.” This was natural and beautiful. It was not strange that the old pilgrim whose life-struggle was nearly over, and who was just about exchanging the cross for the crown, should long for communion with that glorified saint who had withstood so many trials and borne so many stripes; and (if it be one occupation of heaven to talk of things below) to hear him tell how in his Master’s strength he had confronted Grrecian eloquence on the hill of Mars — how he had stood before Caesar unappalled — how he had risen from his bed in the midnight dungeon to sing praises to God — and how he had cast off the weeping brethren from his neck, and cried aloud, ‘Behold I go bound in the spirit to Jerusalem, not knowing the things that shall befall me there.’ i^Z STRAY ARROWS.
Oh! for such a voice again on earth to arouse the slumbering church, and to lead her forth to a second, and, we trust, the final contest for the dominion of the world! With a higher meaning may we apply to him the noble lines in which Wordsworth invokes the return of the patriot Milton, and say to the great apostle:
“Thou should’st be living at this hour! The WORLD hath need of thee. We are selfish men: Oh! raise us up; return to us again, And teach us duty, virtue, freedom, power. Thy soul was like a star, and dwelt apart; 7%ow hadst a voice whose sound was like the sea, Pure as the naked heavens, majestic, free, So didst thou travel on life’s common way In cheerful godliness; and yet thy heart The lowliest duties on herself did lay.”