The Source of Unrest
“I came not to send peace, but a sword.” — Matt. x. 34.
The advent of new light is always the breaking of old peace. We often speak of getting tired of things. When that happens you may be sure it is because a new thing has come. It is not fickleness that makes a child weary of its toy; it is the sight of something higher. All unrest is born of clearer vision. I have no doubt that, to St. John, Patmos was quite tolerable till he saw the New Jerusalem. When he looked upon a sea of glass he began to wish that there was no more sea of water; but before that time he was probably quite satisfied with the water. How small and narrow looked the streets of your own town when you came back from the great metropolis! Previous to your going they seemed splendid, ample, roomy; but one minute of London put them in the shade. So is it with the city of Christ; it spoils me for everything. The moment I rest my eye on it, I can rest it on nothing else. It turns my palaces into hovels; it makes my mountains low. The things which used to be gain to me I count loss in the presence of an all-excelling glory. I may even be more easily fretted than of yore; but for the love of God, I should. A man’s unrest is in proportion to his standard. He who knows nothing of the calm depths of God may be content with the tossing of the wave; but the man who has gazed on the glassy sea will wish no other sea, will long for the time when storm shall be no more.
This, O Son of Man, is the cross Thou bringest me. I cannot escape that cross. I cannot look on Thee without being disenchanted with the world. Before Thy coming I was at peace. Ever3’thing was to me perfect; I said, “It is good to be here; let me build my tabernacle here.” But, at Thy coming, the cloud fell. Everything of mine went into hopeless shadow. My large rooms looked meagre; my gold became dim; my songs ceased to inspire me; my books had a want in them; my entertainments left me thirsty; my ambitions most disappointed where they were most fulfilled. Would I rather be without my cross? Not I. Do I deem that the former days were better than these? Yes; as a beast counts betterness. They had no shadow because they had no light. Thou hast brought the shgdow
because Thou hast brought the light. Thou hast revealed mortahty through immortaHty. Thou hast shown me night through day. Thou hast taught me silence by music. Thou hast instructed me in the thorn by the bloom of the rose. Thou hast made me know deformity by the sight of Thy beauty. Thou hast told me by Thy life what it is to be dead. Thou hast given me a vision ot earth through the gates of heaven. It is the brightness of Thy coming that has consumed my paltry fires; my sword has entered by Thy peace.