The Divine Ideal of Dominion

“The Lord’s portion is His people; Jacob is the lot of His inheritance.” — Deut. xxxii. 9.

There is no possession of which a high nature feels so proud as the possession of a human eouL An inferior nature values above all things the ownership of houses and lands. But to a spiritua mind the greatest inheritance in the world is the mastery over another’s spirit — specially over another’s heart. We often use the expression, My own one, my own dearest.” At these moments we feel the sense of possession to be a peculiar luxury. We would not resign this particular kind of mastery for all the wealth of India and all the land of Canada. The sense of possession which says to a human soul, “My own!” is the climax of conscious power. Now, that is what I take the passage before us to mean. “The Lord’s portion is His people’’’ — not the mastery over stars and systems, not the control of storms and hurricanes, not the command of forces and thunderbolts, but the empire over human hearts; this is the triumph of heaven, this is the power of God. Nor has the passage yet exhausted itself. If what God wants to possess is a human soul, what He wants most is a soul of the type of Jacob, Jacob is the lot of His inheritance.” Is not that a strange desire 1 Why such a type as Jacob! Why not Abraham or Isaac or Joseph! These were steadfast, unwavering men, never halting in the march, never weary on the way. But Jacob was a lame foot, ever stopping, ever sliding. Was he not a poor creature at the best — one of the waifs and strays that sleep on Bethel stairs, one of the flickering lights that struggle with the wind? Yes, and therefore he was worth conquering, worth possessing. Have you not read, “There is more joy in heaven over one sinner that repenteth than over ninety and nine which went not astray “? God’s most precious inheritance is the sheep that wandered. To hold a fugitive heart, to master a wayward mind, to fix a changing fancy, to dominate a contrary desire, to captivate an escaping conscience, to win a stubborn will, to prostrate an ignoble passion, to soften a prodigal son — that is the inheritance in Jacob, that is the joy of the Lord!

Lord, let me gather for Thee these sons of Jacob! Let me gather for Thee these unlikely

lives which seem impossible to mould! Let me gather them from the houseless and the homeless! Let me pick them up from life’s Bethel stairs, from the pillars of stone to which sin has consigned them! Let me raise them from the bed of clay where an elder brother’s wrath has laid them! Let me inspire their night with a dream — a dream of coming glory! Let me show them that a ladder may rise from the very stones of their humiliation! Let me show them that the pillows on which they lie may to-morrow be the steps of Thine altar! Let me tell them that, though they know not Thy name, Thou art wrestling with them every day! Let me teach them that Thy blessing precedes the daybreak, that Thy love is earlier than their light, that the striving of Thy Spirit waits not for their morning sunshine! Let me bring to them the tidings that Thou hast sought them before the dawn, greeted them ere the sunbeam smiled, struggled for them without a streak of day! So shall they learn that Thou art the God of Jacob.