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by F. B. Meyer

Chapter VII

He Will Do It

1 Thess. v. 24.

VX7 HAT is it that He will do? There is a tone of confidence in these words which bespeaks the unwavering faith of the apostle in the willinghood and power of God to do for these Thessalonian Christians that which indeed is needed by all of us for life and godliness: first, that they should be sanctified wholly; and secondly, that they should be preserved without blame, until the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.

We can hardly realize how much this meant to men and women reared amid the excesses and abominations of those days, when religion was an- “Blameless.” 85

other name for unbridled indulgence in every kind of sin. Blamelessness of life, the stainless habit of the soul, self-restraint were the attributes of the few whose natures seemed cast in a special mold; while they mocked ordinary people, much as Alpine summits do emaciated invalids or disabled cripples. And yet the apostle was a practical man, not likely to ask that which lay outside the limits of possibility for man to realize, or for God to give. And the fact of his having prayed for these things was clear evidence that believers might seek for, and attain, that condition of soul which his words implied.

We must distinguish carefully between “blamelessness” and” faithlessness” — The latter can only be ours when we have passed the gate of pearl, and been presented faultless in the presence of His glory, with exceeding joy; the former alone is possible to us here and now — but, thank God, it is possible, because He has said that” He will do it.”

Every one admits that there is a difference between these two words. Take an instance from common life. A working woman comes home weary from her day’s toil, and having provided the evening meal, and put her little ones to bed, she sits down to work for her babe. Presently the little frock falls upon her knee, and she leans back in a snatch of unconsciousness, such as only the most tired know. Her eldest little girl, noticing the collapse of her mother’s efforts, steals to her side, takes her work gently out of the tired fingers, and creeping back to her chair by the fire, essays to finish the uncompleted hem. “Mary,” says the mother, suddenly awaking, “what are you doing?” “Helping you, mother,” replies a “1bi& with Cbttst in 6o&,” 87

voice with a touch of scaredness in it. “Let me see what you have done; bring it here, child.” And as the quick woman’s eyes look down at the tortuous stitches, she sees at a glance that every one of them will have to be unpicked and done again. But she says never a word to the little maiden of blame or fault-finding. The work is not faultless, by a long way; but the child is blameless. Had the cobbled seam been due to slovenliness or neglect, the work had been blameworthy as well as faulty; but inasmuch as it has been done to the very best of the child’s ability, she stands without blame in her mother’s presence. Of course, the analogy is not perfect, because other conditions connected with our Saviour’s work have to be introduced before we can stand in the presence of God, blameless and faultless. Yet the illustration will show how it is possible for those whose every moment is full of fault to be nevertheless blameless and harmless, the sons of God without reproach; because they have not wilfully ignored any known command, or failed in any service to which they were called, but have lived in the current of the precious blood, and within the charmed circle of the will of God. Oh to live that blameless life, the life hid with Christ in God!

The agent of this condition of stainless purity and beauty is God himself. — He is often spoken of as “the God of Peace.” None less than He could accomplish so marvelous a result. Consider the greatness of the contrast! There is no true heart illumined by the Spirit of God which will hesitate to adopt the confession of the patriarch, “Behold, I am vile!” It were difficult to find words to set forth with sufficient emphasis our natural undone and sinful state in the sight of God. Pure snow trampled into mud by the passers-by! The refuse of gas-retorts which, till recently, was deemed too filthy for use! Ink, jet black, and apt to leave a deep permanent stain! And to think that such can be made blameless, not only yonder, but here and now — this is a marvel which the finger of God alone can effect. “He will do it.”

But he will do it as the God of
Peace, —

The mightiest forces in the universe are the stillest. Destruction ever crashes on its way, like the express which tears through the little wayside station. The roar of the autumn sea! The vehemence of the hurricane hurling through the forests! The crackling of the devouring fire! The thunder, the earthquake, the volcano! But who can hear the day break? — or dego “the will &o it”

tect the footfall of the spring, stepping through the woods, scattering flowers? Who thinks of listening for the pulse of the law of gravitation, or the thud of the forces that redden the grape, golden the corn, and cover the peaches with their delicate bloom?

Stand on an eminence and watch the effect of a long summer day on an English landscape. There is no sound but the far away bleat of the sheep, the low of the cattle, or the lazy murmur of the bee, by which the effect of the silence is rendered yet more intense. Nature seems asleep beneath some drowsy spell of slumber. The hours move slowly, as if loath to leave their merry dance in the woodland glade. But all the while, as you lie in a delightful reverie, you are aware that mighty chemical processes are at work, by which the juices of the earth and the elements in the air, the dew and the sunshine, are being elabo- “Spirit, Soul, an& 3Bo&^;’ 91

rated for the sustenance of man. So God works in the hearts He loves. He does not strive, nor cry, nor cause His voice to be heard in the streets of the inner city. It is sometimes difficult to detect His working, and impossible to say, Lo, here! or Lo, there! His touch is so gentle; His voice so still and small; His breath so zephyrlike. When He is most at work within we think that we are making no progress, and even that we are going back. Comparing the experiences of some others with our own, we are inclined to imagine that we have not been the subjects of the spirit’s work; or that His operations have come to a standstill because there is nothing sensible to record. At such times we should remember that we have to do with the God of Peace. He works most energetically and mightily, when to any of the senses of the soul there is no evidence that He is there at all.

The presence of ozone in the air can only be detected by the most delicate tests, a faint color on a piece of litmus paper — that is all. And the presence of God in the soul is only apprehended when the bloom of perfect health becomes apparent as its result.

The method of His work is from within, outwards. — This text is often quoted, and generally mis-quoted. Men often speak of body, soul, and spirit — and, indeed, that is generally their method; but it is not God’s Man begins from without and works inwards; God begins from within and works outwards — from the spirit to the soul, and from the soul to the body.

There is a beautiful analogy suggested by the Lord Himself between our nature and the temple, in whose precincts He stood when He spake of “the temple of His Body.” It is also accentuated by the Holy Ghost through the apostle Paul. As God is a Trinity in Unity, so was the temple; and so is man. The spirit corresponds to the most Holy Place; the soul, by which we reason, imagine, hope, and love, to the Holy Place, where white-stoled priests went to and fro on their sacred duties; the body, to the outer Court. In the case of the unregenerate, the most holy or inner shrine is either destitute of light or tenanted by the spirit of evil. But in the nature which has been truly regenerated by the Holy Ghost, a marvelous addition has been made by the entrance of the true Sheckinah light, the nature of God. This is the distinction between the unsaved and the saved. The former are like a deserted castle; the latter like that castle when the royal pennon tells that the sovereign has come to reside within.

Before the act of consecration it would seem as if a heavy curtain hung between the spirit and the soul, shutting out the glow of the Sheckinah glory; but when the will has been entirely resigned and yielded, that veil is torn from the top to the bottom, and the soul also becomes pervaded with the blessed light and power of God. Nor can it be confined there; but as in the dedication of Solomon’s Temple there was an overflow of light in cascades of glory, driving the priests before it by excess of splendor, so the body of the believer comes under the gracious influence of the indwelling spirit, and is transfigured, refined, purified, and saved.

This is Sanctification. There are many definitions of the word sanctify; but there is none so entirely satisfactory as that which affirms that it is the result wrought on character by the indwelling and presence of God. Wherever God is, there, as the necessary result, are the essential forces which sanctify — whether it be the seventh day, or the sacred ground on which the burning bush stood, or the tabernacle in whose inner shrine the Sheckinah shone, or the heart of man where God has taken up His abode. Art thou wholly sanctified? Hast thou opened thine entire being in every department to His indwelling? Does that Divine presence fill thee, which makes heaven what it is? If not, then never rest until through the open casements of thy being His presence is wafted, never to go out again, but to occupy and possess thee in every part. Then thou shalt be sanctified. Thou wilt carry with thee everywhere the sign of the Divine Presence which will be the true antidote against sin. He who dreads the influenza saturates his garments with Eucalyptus oil; and he who fears to sin must steep his nature in the Presence of God. Then when be is wholly sanctified he is wholly kept and preserved blameless in spirit, soul, and body.

The certainty that God will do this. — “He will do it.” Old habits are strong, but He is stronger; temptations masterful, but He can quell them; circumstances unfavorable, but He is above them; the difficulty of securing in us a blamless life almost insuperable — but “He will do it.” What can He not do, who hath made the heavens and the earth, the stars and the seas, the soaring Alps and the dainty shells that lie along the coast? He can do these greater miracles in the moral sphere; and He will do them because He has instilled the appetite and desire for them, and has trained us to yearn for them, and surely cannot disappoint the instinctive cravings which He has Himself imparted. He is faithful. He does not teach babes to cry for milk which is not stored in “1be is jfaitbful” 97

their mother’s breasts. He does not create instincts without providing satisfaction for their demands. He does not teach us to long almost to agony for a blameless life, and then dash our hopes with disappointment on the ground. No; He is faithful to His Son, to His covenant, and to the yearnings which He has implanted for a blameless life; and He will do it of His spirit and grace, far more exceedding abundantly above all that we ask or think.

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