Ministries That Bless
“Never are kind acts done
To wipe the weeping eyes,
But like the flashes of the sun
They signal to the skies;
And up above, the angels read
How we have helped the sorer need.”
We mistake when we think that only great deeds make worthy service. In no life can there be many large and conspicuous things; the years must chiefly be filled with little things. Take even the story of the life of Jesus. In it there were, as recorded, a definite number of miracles which stand out in the narrative as stars of the first magnitude in the heavens. But strewn through all the days, filling all the moments, crowded into all the interstices of that wonderful life, were innumerable kindnesses and thoughtfulnesses, unrecorded, even unremembered words and acts. Jesus was not always working miracles, but he was always doing good; and the greater measure of the blessing he left in the world came, not from his few supernatural works, but from the countless common human kindnesses he wrought.
It is so in every really great and good life. Now and then there may be some conspicuous deed done which wins the applause of men, an account of which gets into the newspapers, and which is talked about near and far. But on all the days of all the years there is going on a ministry of love which makes many people happier, which gives pleasure to old and young, which leaves inspiration of good or of beauty in countless hearts, which makes one spot of the world sweeter.
Sometimes it happens that those who seek human applause for what they can accomplish, striving to do things that are conspicuous and that make a sensation in the world, have no beautiful ministry of kindness to fill and brighten the days of their common life. When yo THE JOY OF SERVICE.
they do alms they sound a trumpet proclaiming the fact, that their good deeds may be seen and praised of men. But when they are not exhibiting their charity or their generosity, that is, when others are not watching, they are neither charitable nor generous. They do not take the trouble to be kind or loving when there is nothing to be gained by it. That is, their doing of good is spurious, because it is something enacted for men’s eyes, not for God’s. The staple of their life is selfishness. When they are not posing for effect, their days are full of things which are not lovely.
It may be set down as a principle that the true test of a life is found in the things that are done when no eye is watching, — the things of the quiet days. The ten thousand little acts and words and manifestations of disposition, which make up the substance of living, much more fairly index the real character than do the one or two things which people talk about.
After all, the greatness is not in the conspicuousness of that which is done, but in its
MINISTRIES THAT BLESS. *Jl
spirit, its moral quality. “With God there is neither little nor great; there is only straight or crooked.” That which we do really for God is great, though it seem but a trifle in human eyes. That which we do only for men is small, though it bulk large as a mountain.
We never know what will be the end of the smallest good we do in this world. It may start a series of blessings which shall extend, with increasing benefit, through centuries. There are single sentences in the Bible which have been helping, comforting, strengthening, guiding, cheering, and inspiring men and women for thousands of years and in all lands. There have, been single acts of simple kindness, done even without the thought that they would be helpful, which have proved the beginning of endless chains of blessing. Says Faber, “When men do anything for God, — the very least thing, — they never know where it will end, nor what amount of work it will do for him. Love’s secret, therefore, is to be always doing things for God, and not to mind because they are very little ones.”
When they get home at last, and all the harvest of their lives has been gathered in, good people will experience two great surprises. They will be surprised to find that certain things which they have done, which they regarded as great things, beautiful and good and largely useful, were really of very small account, received but slight commendation of God, and left but small blessing in the world. But they will be surprised, on the other hand, at the great beauty and the rare value of other things which they have done, which they had not considered as of any importance, — things, perhaps, they do not even remember doing, they were done with so little thought that they could be of any worth.
It is a law of God’s kingdom that what we do with thought of self lacks one of the finest elements of moral quality. Consciousness of being beautiful mars the beauty. What we do, intending that it shall be fine and winsome, is of far less worth in God’s sight, than what we do when our left hand does not know what our right hand is doing.
There are two classes of ministry in every life. There are the things which a man does purposely, which he plans to do, which he trains himself to do, which he does with special thought and deliberation. Then there is a wayside ministry, which he does without previous purpose, as he goes along through life, engaged in his allotted duties. This embraces the countless little things of common courtesy and kindness, the things done on the instant, the greetings, the amenities of the street, the words of cheer, comfort, or encouragement, spoken as men meet each other. We are apt not to make much account of these wayside services, while we usually set a high value on the things we have done with care, thought, and preparation. Yet it may be that ofttimes the former are of more worth to God than the latter. There is less of self in them, less thought of being seen of men, and more of the simple outworking of the heart’s love.
The doing of God’s will is always a great thing, whether it be something that affects the welfare of a nation, or something that concerns only the good or the comfort of the lowliest of Christ’s little ones. There is a legend of an angel who was sent to earth to keep a king from sinning, and at the same time to help a little struggling ant home with its burden. Both tasks were alike noble because both were God’s will. In a great painting by one of the masters, there is a convent kitchen in which angels are doing the work. One is putting the kettle on the fire, one is lifting a pail of water, one is reaching up to the dresser-shelf after a plate; and these angels seem just as heavenly in this lowly work as if they were doing divine errands around God’s throne.
We need to learn the lesson that anything that is God’s will is great, and that whatever is not God’s will is unworthy and ignoble, though it be swaying a sceptre over a nation, or being a world’s idol. Many of us have to spend most of our life in what seems drudgery. Perhaps we think it is unworthy of us. We feel that we are capable of greater things, and should not be required to spend our time in matters so trivial, perhaps so menial. But if it is God’s will we are doing, our drudgery, as it appears to heavenly eyes is radiant as angels’ ministry.
Some people, when they think of how little they can do to help others, despair of making of their life anything worth while. They cannot leave blessings in the world. They cannot speak words that will impress others, or write books that will give cheer, comfort, and hope to any one. They cannot do kindnesses which the recording angel will care to write down to their account. But God can use the smallest deeds, the smallest words, even a smile that comes from a loving heart, in making the world happier and sweeter. Nothing that has love in it ever perishes or fails to be useful.
“The look of sympathy, the gentle word Spoken so low that only angels heard, The secret act of pure self-sacrifice Unseen by men but marked by angels’ eyes — These are not lost.
The sacred music of a tender strain Wrung from a poet’s heart by grief and pain, And chanted timidly with doubt and fear To busy crowds that scarcely pause to hear — It is not lost.
The kindly plans devised for others’ good, So seldom guessed, so little understood, The quiet, steadfast love that strove to win Some wanderer from the woeful ways of sin — These are not lost.”
It has been said that he who makes two blades of grass grow where only one grew before is a benefactor. He has done that which makes one small spot of the world a little brighter and more beautiful. There is a story of a nobleman who always carried acorns in his pocket, and, whenever he found a bare place on his estate, he would plant one of them, that a tree might spring up to brighten the dreariness. That was something worth while. He who watches ever for lives that are bare of gladness, and drops a kindness to grow into a blessing, is doing work worthy of the archangel.
We need never vex ourselves over the smallness of our opportunities; our only care should be that we use the opportunities that are given to us. Our one little word or kindly act, our one look that gives a moment’s cheer, may tell on ages. We need not fear to waste our strength in lowliest ministry, to wear out our life in serving others; nothing is really wasted that is poured out on God’s altar in service of love for Christ and for his little ones.
“Can we believe, O God, that we have done To full perfection our appointed task, Offered the sacrifice that thou dost ask, If, like small flowers, we brave the burning sun, Nor shrink from storms, but slowly, one by one, Tear from ourselves the grimy husks that mask An inward beauty, and disdain to ask A better heritage than there upon That lonely hill to bloom and fade and die, Content if in the tenure of our life Some haggard soul uplift his weary eye, And pause amid the muddy world’s dull strife To gaze on us, and so forget to sigh? Is this to live the veritable life?”