The Lord's Word: Consolation

“And he fell to the earth, and heard a voice saying unto him, Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou nie?” — Acts ix. 4.

IT was near Damascus; it was at mid-day; there was a considerable company; great publicity was given to the transaction; every circumstance is a separate witness to the truth of the narrative. But the best evidence of the fact is the mighty effect that followed. By the conversion of Paul the course of human history has been diverted; the extant result bears witness of the efficient cause.

A circumfused light appeared to all the company; to Saul alone the glorified Redeemer articulately appeared. All heard a voice; Saul alone heard him, the manifested Man, speaking to himself. The voice said to him, “Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me?”

It is not very long since these words were spoken. A succession of nineteen men, if each should live a hundred years, would suffice to span the space; and nineteen men, with hands outspread and touching each other, would not constitute to our vision a very long row. It is less than two thousand years — in God’s account, less than two days — since the Lord Jesus uttered these words to check the career of a persecutor, and shield his suffering little ones. It may not be very long ere that voice shall speak again, so that every ear shall hear it. The Lord is not slack concerning his promise.

We are now suspended between the first and second appearings of the Lord. It is bat a little time since he was here — and it is but a little time till he come again. In the interval he abideth near, with his watchful eye over us, and his everlasting arms underneath. His ears are’ open to his people’s cry, and his heart sensitive to their pains and fears. “Lo! I am with you alway.”

This word of the Lord Jesus is a two-edged sword. It carries comfort to those who are within, and reproof to those who are without. It is spoken to an adversary; but it is spoken for a friend. It is worthy of remark here that the first comfort given to fallen men was conveyed in a word spoken to their destroyer. It was in a rebuke addressed to the serpent that the gospel was first preached (Gen. iii. 15). After the same manner was Israel comforted in times of trial; the word spoken for them was not spoken to them: “Touch not mine anointed, and do my prophets no harm.” From time to time a reproving word or a judgment-stroke was sent against Pharaoh or the King of Babylon; and this was God’s way of protecting his chosen heritage. Here, too, the Head will sustain the members, by a reproof addressed to the waster of the Church.

I scarcely know a more comforting word than this in all the Bible. Nowhere else is the oneness of Christ and his people more clearly expressed. The speaker is not now the Man of Sorrows. He asserts the identity of himself and his people, after all power in heaven and in earth has been placed in his hands. He is God over all, and blessed for ever, who here proclaims to the persecutor, “Inasmuch as you have done it unto the least of these my brethren, you have done it unto me.”

As you experience pain when any member of your body is hurt, Christ, the Head of the spiritual body — the Church that he has bought with his blood — cries out when an enemy’s hand strikes some poor saints in Damascus. So when Satan desired to have Peter, that he might sift him as wheat, and drive him by the power of temptation, like chaff unto the fire, the Lord himself felt the strain in his own breast, and interfered to shield his frail disciple. The life that is “hid with Christ in God” is truly a charmed life. No assassin’s weapon can reach it in its hiding-place. Although the powers of darkness should bind themselves under a great oath to shroud this lower world in perpetual night, they could not accomplish their purpose unless they had power to pluck the sun from the sky. So these powers of darkness could not quench the light of life in any Christian, unless they should first extinguish the Sun of righteousness.

Nor is this privilege confined to those who are eminent in the faith. Safety is secured, and therefore measured, by the power, not of the saved, but of the Saviour. A British subject is found on the territory of a powerful but barbarian king. The tyrant casts his eye on the forlorn stranger, and would fain take away his liberty or his life. But the power of the Queen overshadows him. The advisers of this savage chief show him that if he touch a hair of that stranger’s head a British ship will bombard his capital, and subvert his throne. The man is safe; but his safety is not due to his own strength or skill. The feeblest woman, or the tenderest child, would in such a case be as safe as the most stalwart soldier. Safety in no sense and in no measure depends on the individual’s power, but on the power of the government which recognises him as its subject. It is on a principle somewhat similar that the safety of disciples is insured. Their resource is not, I am strong; but, I am His — and He is almighty.

Why persecutest thou me? Saul was not directing his stroke up to the heavens; he pointed not his spear to Jesus’ side. Our goodness — our badness, Lord, reacheth not unto thee. How, then? “Thou persecutest me “—” of whom speaketh the prophet this? of himself or of some other man V Of some other man, some trembling disciple cowering in the lanes of Damascus, and dreading lest Saul should stone him, as he stoned Stephen, for being a disciple of Christ. Of this man Christ speaks; but speaks of him as a part of himself — feels as we feel when a member is pierced. The principle was abundantly explained by the Lord in the course of his earthly ministry.

Let Saul venture to say, Lord, when did we search thee out in thy humble hiding-place, and drag thee before the judge, and witness against thee, and put thee to death? The King shall answer him from his throne, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.

Here is my safety — that he counts me his; and not only so, but has made me part of himself, so that a stroke dealt by the enemy against me runs up and pains him on his throne.

Who shall tell how many dangers have been thus averted from us, when we did not know or think of either our danger or our deliverer? I suppose some of the saints in and near Damascus had heard of the persecutor’s approach, and feared him; but it is probable also that others in danger by his approach did not know that he was near. By that lightflash which prostrated Saul without the gate, these persons were protected, although they were not aware either of the danger or the deliverance.

I supposed the saved when they reach the Father’s house will have occupation for their leisure in numbering up all God’s mercies; and perhaps nothing will be sweeter as an ingredient of their joy than the discoveries of one and another signal rescue that Christ achieved for them, while they, like an infant sleeping in a burning house, were aware neither of the flame that was already singeing their garments, nor of the strong arm of that brother who bore them beyond its reach. Oh, that will be joyful, joyful! when from the open books we shall read the entries of many fiery darts that flew pointed to our breast, and all these received and quenched on the interposed shield of almighty, unslumbering love.