CONTENTMENT
"I have learned,
in whatsoever state I am,
therewith to be content"
(Philippians 4:11)
Have we learned this? Are we learning it? The apostle Paul learned this important lesson through many years of "ups" and "downs." He learned to be content in whatever state he found himself. He said,
"I know both how to be abased,
and I know how to abound:
everywhere and in all things I am instructed
both to be full and to be hungry,
both to abound and to suffer need"
(Philippians 4:12)
Sometimes it is as difficult to be well off as to be bad off. When well off too often we forget Him from whom all blessings flow. On the other hand when bad off too often we are given to much complaining. The proper attitude for the Christian is to be thankful and praising God for our good fortune as it is He who supplies all our need according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus. When we find the going rough we are to be patient and trusting knowing that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to His purpose.
Paul gave the credit to Christ for his victory. "I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me" (Philippians 4:13). We have the same recourse. The Scriptures exhort us to "be content with such things as ye have: for he hath said, I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee" (Hebrews 13:5). This is enough to content the heart of any believer. If He is with me, that is enough.
If I find that things have gone well and some of the treasures of earth have fallen to my lot, I quickly call to mind that HE is my greatest treasure, and I pour out my heart to Him in thanksgiving and praise. If I find that things have not gone so well and the treasures of earth have been withheld from me, I quickly call to mind the fact that though all else eludes me yet HE is with me and is all I need for time and eternity, which again draws from my heart praise and thanksgiving. What need I more? What have I better?
This is a lesson we as believers must all learn: in whatever state, therewith to be content. For herein do we glorify our Father in heaven, and herein do we witness to our Lord and Saviour among our fellow men. "Godliness with contentment is great gain" (I Timothy 6:6).
-- The Editor
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The LORD will bless his people with peace
Psalm 29:11
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THE FORGOTTEN BEATITUDE
By Vance Havner
We are familiar with the beatitudes of the Sermon on the Mount. And there are also other beatitudes of our Lord, such as "Blessed is that servant, whom his lord when he cometh shall find so doing" (Matthew 24:46); "Blessed are they that hear the word of God, and keep it" (Luke 11:28).
But here is a little beatitude, short and sandwiched between longer verses so that we are in danger of passing it up altogether -- "Blessed is he, whosoever shall not be offended in me" (Matthew 11:6).
John the Baptist was in prison. That rugged, ascetic Elijah of the New Testament -- prophet of the outdoors -- was certainly out of place in a damp, dark dungeon. No wonder he had the blues. One day his feelings hit a record low and he sent a delegation to Jesus to ask, "Art thou he that should come or do we look for another?" Now, that was a serious doubt for John the Baptist. The very thing he had preached like a living exclamation point had become a question mark to the preacher himself. It reminds us of another prophet of the dungeon, Jeremiah, who cried to God from the depths, "Wilt thou be altogether unto me as a liar and waters that fail?"
But our Lord did not reprimand John the Baptist. It is noteworthy that two of the strongest characters in the Bible had something akin to a nervous breakdown. Elijah, in the Old Testament, collapsed under the juniper and God had to feed and rest him. More than one exhausted Christian with nerves on edge has imagined that he is the last survivor of the saints. And usually he needs not reproof but rest. Then here is John the Baptist of the camel's hair vestments and victuals of locusts and wild honey who could reprove kings and call religious people "sons of snakes"; here is John the Baptist down in the dumps even as you and I! It is one thing to stand on Jordan and give it, another thing to stay in jail and take it!
But what did Jesus do? Did He bitterly reprove the troubled prophet? Did He say, "I'm ashamed of you, disappointed in you. What will people think?" He did nothing of the sort. He did not even send John a tract on "How to Be Happy in Jail!" On the contrary, on the day that John the Baptist made his poorest remark about Jesus, Jesus said the best thing about John the Baptist: "Among them that are born of women there hath not risen a greater than John the Baptist!" For Jesus knew his frame and remembered that he was dust.
John had preached a victorious Messiah with fan in hand, purging His floor, gathering His wheat into the garner and burning the chaff with unquenchable fire. And here was Jesus, not carrying on that way at all but meek and lowly, going about doing good. And John couldn't figure it out. The Devil got in his doubts as in Eden. John began wondering and then worrying, for one begets the other.
Out Lord's answer to John's question is simple. The blind are seeing, the deaf are hearing, the lame are walking, the lepers are being cleansed and the poor have the gospel preached to them. In other words, "I am running on schedule and carrying out my program as planned. I may not be as you expected but do not be upset by it."
This is a day of dungeons, and many saints are in the clutches of Giant Despair. There is comfort here for us. If a husky Lion Heart like John the Baptist could faint, "brethren, think it not strange concerning the fiery trial that is to try you, as though some strange thing happened unto you." Your temptation is common unto men and there is a way of escape.
John's trouble, like most trouble, did not come singly, it was two-fold. There was depression and there was doubt. Dungeons bring depression and depression brings doubt. Are you in a dungeon? Not behind visible lock and key perhaps, but while "stone walls do not a prison make nor iron bars a cage," it is also true that other things than prison walls do a prison make and other than iron bars may form a cage. Is your trouble financial? Maybe your blood pressure is up and your bank account down. Maybe you are physically ill but you keep going and everyone thinks because you are walking you are well! Maybe you have lost a loved one and a shroud of melancholy hangs heavy on your soul. Perhaps you dread to see night fall and search for rest as men seek for hidden treasure. Dungeons bring depression and from depression it is easy to move into doubt, even doubt about Jesus. Then we are upset and offended and we need to learn the Forgotten Beatitude.
It is nothing new to be offended in Jesus. More people have been offended in Him than in any character in history. Away with this milk-and-water preaching about Jesus! He has caused more offense than other person who ever lived. He is either a sanctuary or a stumbling stone (Isaiah 8:14). He was an offense to His own nation and still is (Romans 9:33). He offended the Pharisees (Matthew 15:12). He offended the people of His own home town (Matthew 13:54-58). He offended superficial disciples (John 6). His cross is an offense (I Corinthians 1:23). And even true disciples may be offended in Him. (Matthew 26:31-35). Sound believers sometimes get into a dungeon and pout with the Lord and say, "It is vain to serve God, and what profit is it that we have kept His ordinances and walked mournfully before the Lord of Hosts."
We all have done it! We have murmured that we pray and do not receive. We gave our tithe and now we are in adversity. We were faithful to the Lord's house and landed in a hospital. We prayed for our children and they became worldlings. We craved joy and peace but we are despondent. Across the street is an ungodly family that has suffered no loss, while our dearest was taken. "There is no use praying. It reads very lovely in the devotional books but I seem unable to make it work." We were in distress, and the Lord "abode where he was" and when He did appear we grumbled like Martha when she said, "If thou hadst been here my brother had not died."
All such grumbling means that we have not learned the Forgotten Beatitude. Anybody can believe during fair weather. There is a deeper experience and a higher state which not many reach, a state in which, no matter what happens, you are never offended in the Lord, a state in which, whether it makes sense to us or not, we still believe Romans 8:28. Habakkuk started his book pouting and ended it praising. And blessed is the man who can say: "Though I don't get what I want; though I may sow much and reap little: though others get the plums and I get the sack, I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation."
When Thomas asked for visible evidence of the risen Lord, he was asking for a smaller blessing than he already had, the privilege of believing without seeing, for "blessed are they that have not seen and yet have believed." God wants us to trust Him, no matter what He does. There is a heavenly carelessness that leaves it all with Jesus and does not become upset when He does things contrary to what we expected. And there will be plenty of things that just do not make sense. John the Baptist must have wondered, "If Jesus can raise the dead, why can't He get me out of jail?" The little boy who couldn't understand why God put so many vitamins in spinach and did not put them all in ice cream was already beginning to see that things just don't work out as we'd like for them to. There is much that is baffling, but if we cannot understand it, by grace we can stand under it, and we can see to it that we are not offended, and this is better than understanding it! Some things we are to know (Matthew 13:11) and some things we are not to know (Acts 1:7), and we would be happier if we spent the time we waste on trying to fathom the unknowable in learning the knowable.
God did not explain suffering to Job. He gave him revelation, which was better than explanation. Better than having all our questions answered is to say, "The Lord knows what He is doing and I will not be offended."
In this dark hour of world distress not a few believers are in the dumps. Jesus seems not to be carrying on as expected. The world is not being converted. Has Christ failed? He isn't transforming the social order. Is He the One or shall we look for another? Many have mistaught and have misunderstood His mission, His motive, His message, His method. It is true that He is not converting the world. He did not say He would. But He has not failed, He is running on schedule. Blind eyes are opening to the Light of the world. Deaf ears are hearing His voice. Lame souls are taking up their beds and walking. The dead in trespasses and sins are awaking to Christ, their Life and Light, and to the poor the gospel is still being preached. Christ is carrying on as intended. He has never missed an appointment. He may seem slow but He is never late. We need not be offended because He is not converting the world. He did not promise to, but He did promise to return in clouds of glory and reign until all enemies are put under His feet. Let us therefore take our stand on His word and hide it in our hearts, for "great peace have they which love thy law; and nothing shall offend them"
IN JESUS ONLY: used by permission of Fleming H. Revell Co., Westwood, NJ.
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THE BIBLE -- A PICTURE BOOK
By the late M. R. De Haan, M. D.
The Bible is a picture book with descriptive portraits on practically every page. I realize that this may be an entirely new view of the Bible, yet it is true. To be sure, the Bible is not illustrated with visual pictures and drawings, but it nevertheless is a book of pictures.
There are two kinds of pictures: first, those drawn by pen, pencil, or brush, or those taken by photography, which are visual; that is, they can be seen by the physical eye. But in addition there are also mental pictures or images drawn on the canvas of the mind and memory which are word pictures, either seen or heard. We hear someone graphically describe some scene or incident of occurrence in words, and there is painted upon the scroll of our mind a mental image or picture of the incident, although neither pen, pencil, crayon, nor brush has been employed. These are WORD pictures which are as clearly seen and remembered as though we beheld them by the physical eye as visible illustrations or drawings.
The Bible is a book of such pictures and portraits. Although it contains no visual pictures or portraits, in the generally accepted sense of the word, it is filled with WORD pictures, and all these have as their central figure a person: The Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of God and the Son of Man, the Saviour of sinners. If we search long enough we shall find upon every page of Scripture, standing somewhere in the shadow, the outline of the central person of the Book -- the Lord Jesus Christ, both the object and end of all Scripture.
The last book of the Bible opens with the words, THE REVELATION OF JESUS CHRIST; and this is not only the title of the last book of the Bible, but it may well be taken as the title of all the books of the Bible, for it is truly the "revelation of Jesus Christ." Every incident recorded in the Scriptures has a bearing directly or indirectly upon this theme, "revealing Jesus Christ."
A godly minister, now gone to be with the Lord, said to me early in my ministry, "Son, you have never found the true interpretation of any passage of the Scriptures until you have found in it somewhere a reference to the Lord Jesus Christ. If you search long enough you will find HIM standing somewhere in the background, sometimes clear and unmistakable, sometimes faintly and dimly, but HE is there."
I have never forgotten that bit of advice and it has been of untold help to me. Jesus Christ is the theme and the subject of every part of the Scriptures. Jesus Himself made this claim when He said in John 5:39 to those who questioned His authority:
"Search the scriptures; for in them ye think ye have eternal life: and THEY ARE THEY WHICH TESTIFY OF ME."
And again in John 5:45 & 46 we read:
"Do not think that I will accuse you to the Father: there is one that accuseth you, even Moses, in whom ye trust."
"For had ye believed Moses, ye would have believed me; FOR HE WROTE OF ME."
Jesus Himself asserted that the Bible was the revelation of Himself. This He once more asserted after His resurrection, when walking with the two disciples on the road to Emmaus He said to them:
" . . . O fools, and slow of heart to believe ALL that the prophets have spoken:
And beginning at Moses and ALL THE PROPHETS, he expounded unto them in ALL THE SCRIPTURES the things concerning himself" (Luke 24:25,27).
We might multiply passages to show that not only Jesus Himself made this claim, but also the writers (the human authors) of the Scriptures assert beyond doubt the fact that the Bible is indeed the REVELATION OF JESUS CHRIST, THE SON OF GOD.
IN PORTRAITS OF CHRIST in Genesis, booklet no. 1; used by special permission of the Radio Bible Class, Grand Rapids, MI.
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A HIGHWAY FOR THE WIDOW
By Geoffrey T. Bull
Priscilla sat in her little brown house situated on the outskirts of the seafaring town of Sandakan. For Priscilla this was her darkest day, a day of bitterness, more bitter than she had ever known. Her mind was altogether numbed with grief; her heart a pent up reservoir of tears.
Wistfully her fingers fondled the slender yellow thread still hanging from her neck. "Can it be thirty years," she thought, "since I twined these soft white strands and dipped them in the yellow dye? Those surely were the days of a young girl's dream, a dream which all came true." How quickly the wedding day had dawned and the golden thread been placed about her neck. From then on she had begun to wear the sari and, of course, from that day until now, the little yellow cord had never left her, for she was a wife amongst the Indian community.
How hard it suddenly seemed to remove it; to lift it up over the head; to reverse that precious movement of three decades ago; to tell the world that death had dissolved that union. Such was the custom for an Indian woman in Borneo and Priscilla knew that there was no other way for the widow; no other way for her.
Time and again within herself she would be stealing away to the hospital and in her grief-torn mind each detail of the last sad scene would be relived. Must death be so dreadful, so final, so cruel? Now she was alone, yet not completely. There were the children but then they had their own affairs; and some were hardly children now. They would soon forget and she would always be alone. Yet she must not forget that sweet Karen Christian who, with her husband, had shown her a kindness that seemed to bring the great God very near. There was consolation in their companionship and Someone very close when they prayed in Jesus' Name. And that was the strange thing on that last day, when nearly all the family were gathered at the bedside. "Do you know how to pray?" she had asked him. Strange that she, Priscilla, should say that! He had not spoken a word in answer but simply drawn a cross upon his forehead with his fingers. Then she had sat and looked at him, so weak there in his bed, until she began to cry. "I'll not die," he had gasped, but even as he spoke he had started to breathe more heavily. Oxygen was quickly brought and as it was administered he revived again. For a long while she and the children had lingered, tenderly watching him, then he had done what Indians always do when the world of shadows closes in. "Bring me some milk," he asked. The nurse came quickly and taking it from her hand he drank a little, then passed it on to Priscilla. When he did this, she had known what he implied. She sipped it and passed it then to Sundar. Trancelike, the young man took it, sipping the glass as his mother had done before him, then passed it on to Junia. When all had taken their turn, her husband had seemed content, becoming very quiet and still. Slowly the eyes began to close until the long black lashes kissed each other for the last time. The windows were darkened now, she felt. He will never speak again. The cord of life was broken. Her beloved had passed the unknown frontier to the world beyond . . .
* * *
Suddenly there was a knock at the door. Priscilla roused herself from her sad reverie, rose to her feet and, walking slowly across the wooden floor, opened it. She was confronted by a Chinese gentleman. "What could his business be?" she cautiously wondered. Contrary to the usual formalities and approaches of the Orient he spoke to her quite directly, in fact too directly for Priscilla's liking. She was in no mood to discuss her affairs with strangers. "I was wondering," said the Chinese gentleman, "whether perhaps, in view of your husband's death you were considering selling your plot of land, which I understand you still hold in Sandakan. I would pay ready cash of course. Perhaps in the circumstances this might prove of help to you." He waited for the desired effect and then continued. "The figure I have in mind is round about fifteen hundred dollars, although seeing you are a widow I would be prepared to go to two thousand if necessary." "Two thousand dollars." The words began to sink into Priscilla's mind. What a help this would be. Two thousand dollars in her hand now! Without doubt it could solve a lot--but Priscilla hesitated. Some intuitive sense restrained her. It was as if someone was telling her, "Don't agree to it! You are not to agree to it." Looking at the stranger she said, "I'll think about it." It was as well she did. Two thousand dollars was barely half the value of the holding concerned.
During those days Priscilla was just a sitting prey for any unscrupulous dealer who might come along. They knew her plight. They knew that she would be obliged to vacate the government quarters that she and her family occupied. They knew she must be in need. There was no one to guard or guide her; no one to make the decisions now; no one in whom to confide; no one with whom to take counsel. She was no longer a young woman. What work could she find that would solve her problems?
It was during one of these shadowed moments of grief and fear that the beloved Karen Christian called again. She was like a ray of sunshine coming into the gloom and Priscilla wondered at her love for her. Today she brought a text, beautifully drawn and tastefully framed. Together they hung it up on the wall. Priscilla looked at the words. She had never read them before.
"Thou art the Helper of the fatherless," it ran. "You must pray," said the Karen lady. "You must pray. There is nothing you can do about it all now. It is no good sitting and brooding over everything; and if you just sit and mope you will get nowhere." It sounded so matter of fact, almost brusque, but there was kindliness behind the firmness of those words. Of course it was true. She must face it. Life must go on but what her dear friend was saying was simply this, "You need not face it alone. There is a Helper."
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One day some eight months later we drove the car in off the Tuaran road, just outside Jesselton, and looking this way and that amongst the bungalows, located at last, one newly painted not very far ahead. The front door was open and we were welcomed in by Lois and Junia. It was a lovely place, spacious, airy and suitably furnished. Against the wall opposite the window were some shelves containing ornaments. Above the shelves there was the treasured text set in a place of prominence for all to see.
"Thou art the Helper of the fatherless."
A few moments passed and Priscilla, dressed in her long sari, swept quietly into the room. It was the first time I had ever seen her. All I can say is that her face was Christian. Her fine Indian features were set in a serene and open countenance. There was the light of a triumphant faith in her eyes. Her whole face seemed to epitomize that meek and quiet spirit which the Bible tells us is of great price in the sight of God. I wondered how it all happened. I had come in order to hear about her faith for she wished to be baptized -- but I hardly needed to converse with her. She was already in the Master's hands.
We talked just a little while and then she began to confide in us. "The house," she explained, "was fifteen thousand dollars." Normally this would have been purely her personal business but for her it was something quite different. It represented to her not a human transaction but a miracle of God. She was really trying to say in these figures, "You see how God cares. You see how He is a Helper to the fatherless."
In her deep distress those months ago, she had decided to give the Christians' God His chance. If He cared then let Him be pleased to show His care. That is how she felt. Her attitude had hardly been faith and yet it was not exactly unbelief. If He would prove Himself to her, then she would trust herself to Him, so she had begun to pray. In a way it was all on a rather low level of spiritual experience. She was perhaps rather like Jacob or even Hannah, both of whom said, "If Thou wilt . . . I will," but when God sees that we are going to take Him at His Word, He is always ready to take us at our word. It is this that surprises us and Priscilla had been surprised beyond measure. The first real inkling that God was with her had been the receiving of a grant from the Government of some nine thousand in view of her husband's service. This was substantial and gave her time to give proper consideration to her plot of land in Sandakan. Eventually she made proper application under the Land Regulations to sell the land. Then the house in the Jesselton area became available and she decided to go a step farther in this question of trusting God. If her large family were to be rehoused then this was undoubtedly the house for them but the sizeable figure of fifteen thousand dollars was the lowest price the owner would consider. She determined therefore to gather her family around her and to make a covenant with God. Thus they prayed together, saying in utter simplicity something like this. "Dear God, if you will give us five thousand dollars for the land in Sandakan then we will truly believe you and we will all become Christians." In view of the original offer of only two thousand dollars this was a large petition. Five thousand dollars was the minimum amount which, with their other funds in hand, would make the purchase of the Jesselton house possible. If God was for them, then He could do the impossible thing.
Having settled the matter in her heart she now went resolutely about her business. The full sum of fifteen thousand must be paid by April 30th or the offer would be withdrawn. Could God meet such requirements? Was there such a thing as an abacus in heaven? Did God deal in the currency of North Borneo? It was hard to believe -- but the text said, He was a Helper to the fatherless, and does not the Christian's God mean what He says? The next indication that God was moving on their behalf came when a letter from the authorities arrived, saying that the sale of the land had been authorized and the necessary documents could be obtained from the local court. The papers were completed, and duly signed, and now she was legally entitled to negotiate the sale of the plot and complete the transaction whenever she wished. Almost immediately she wired her son Sundar, in Sandakan. Within a matter of hours a telegram came back. "Offered $2000." Her heart fell a little. Still only two thousand. Was she really asking the impossible? Almost before she had time to repudiate this first offer, another telegram arrived. "Offered $2800." She held her ground and wired back a refusal. This was no longer a matter of dollars nor even of a home for her children. This was a question as to whether God existed or not. Whether Christ was real or not. Whether prayer to the Living God was mockery or not. She would take not a dollar under five thousand.
As she stiffened in her determination and faith, another telegram arrived. There had been a big leap forward. "Offered $4000." She was amazed. The original offer had now been doubled, but she felt absolutely under bond not to accept it. It would have seemed extraordinary to anyone else. Was she right to gamble her family and faith like this? But she had made a covenant with God. After a pause, a more or less final figure of four thousand eight hundred was put forward. An excellent price. Surely no one could expect more for the particular piece of land in question. Was it not the right, and indeed the very best thing, to accept this offer immediately? It was only two hundred dollars short, anyway, of her ideal price, her covenant price. Was it not enough? Priscilla did not think so. She was determined now to go all the way with God. Quietly she awaited the final development. Would one more telegram come? It did. She was not to be disappointed. She held the envelope in her hand a moment. Strange that a figure, a mere price, should be the last factor in her total surrender to Jesus Christ. She opened it and saw just what she had expected to see. "Offered $5000," the message ran. It was enough. From that moment she believed, from that moment she belonged to Him, to God, to Christ who long ago had paid the other price, the price of sin. O Matchless God -- Helper of the Fatherless -- Saviour of all who dare to trust Him!
* * *
On the morning of the baptism Priscilla arrived at the believers meeting hall dressed in a flowing white sari. For her this was a stupendous moment. As a child she had been brought up in an idolatrous Hindu home. That was what she had been born to believe but now she had been born again and today she had come in a symbolic way to bury the past and tell everyone that she would walk with Jesus in newness of life. After the burial of her husband. Priscilla had felt she would never smile again but God had now filled her heart with singing.
When the moment came there was something strangely moving about this Christian Indian lady. She had been through much but she knew with all her heart that she believed in Jesus Christ, the Son of God. Stately and serene she descended into the water. I questioned her, as I had done the other converts. "Do you believe on the Lord Jesus Christ as your own personal Saviour?" "I do," she said. Thus one more of Asia's children owned the sway of Jesus Christ. Following her one by one into the water came her three older daughters, Junia, Lois and Lydia. They were not afraid of their family covenant. God had kept His Word and should they not keep theirs?
IN CORAL IN THE SAND: U. S. A. edition published by Moody Press, Chicago. Used by permission.
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