But we do not mean to justify the deception. It carried--as every sin carries--fearful consequences, and those consequences affected all of Jacob's future life. As he had deceived his father, again and again his children deceived their father. Even immediately upon its perpetration Jacob's life became endangered. He was obliged to flee from enraged and threatening Esau. Then it was that Jacob, at nightfall, coming alone to rocky Bethel, and lying down to sleep--a wrong-doer, a fugitive, homeless, friendless, and in peril--had his dream. He saw heaven opened over him, with angels ascending as it were by a ladder to G.o.d and then descending by that ladder from G.o.d to his resting-place. The dream bore in upon his mind certain thoughts. One was, that G.o.d had not forsaken him, but was with him. Another was, that G.o.d was ready to forgive him for his sin and bless him. And still a third was, that G.o.d would take even his life and so use it, if he should be consecrated to Him, that he, Jacob, should some day come back to Bethel as its owner and be the head of that people through whom the whole world should be blessed. And a fourth thought was, that however long the delay in fulfilling the promises, G.o.d certainly would fulfil them, and He would watch over Jacob until they were fulfilled.

As Jacob awaked from his dream those four thoughts were in his mind: of G.o.d's presence, of G.o.d's forgiveness, of G.o.d's call, and of G.o.d's protection. Up to this time the hour of this awakening was the best hour of his life. Thoughts stirred in his heart different in degree and different in quality than any he had ever had. There came a new sense of the wonderful love of G.o.d. What had he done to deserve it? Nothing. Why should not the heavens be closed, and be dark and forbidding to a defrauder like himself? That certainly was what one like himself might expect. Did not the cherubim drive sinful Adam and Eve out of the garden, and stand with flaming sword forbidding their return? But here was G.o.d appearing in mercy, a.s.suring of His readiness to pardon transgression, and calling upon the wrong-doer to repent, to be earnest, and to make his life a benediction rather than a curse. Here, too, was G.o.d pledging His unfailing aid to Jacob if Jacob would struggle toward success!

What should Jacob do with these thoughts? He might have brushed them away from his heart as he brushed away the morning dew from his eyes, and thus immediately have banished them. He might have pondered the thoughts for a day or two, being softened and comforted by them, and then let them pa.s.s out of his mind forever. Many men have acted in such ways. A wicked man opened a letter from his mother, and with the sight of her penmanship there came to him the memory of all her interest in his purity, integrity, and G.o.dliness. He crushed the letter in his hand and threw it into the fire burning on the hearth. But another man, many another man, though moved by good impulses, and even touched to the quick by them after a while has let such impulses glide away from his heart and carry with them their helpfulness. That is what Darwin says that he did. The thought of G.o.d came to him now and then in special hours of his earlier life, but he did not hold fast to it, he let it escape, and the thought of a personal G.o.d who watches over and blesses never became the cheering possession of his soul.

But it was not so with Jacob; and because it was not so, hope of betterment dawned upon his character. He _valued_ the thoughts that had come to him. He was awed. Awe, or reverence, is the originating spring of worthy character. His was not a simple mind easily affected. Jacob was a cool, calculating, careful, worldly-wise man, almost the last type of man that finds it easy to be awed. But to him--with whom money and sheep and slaves and retinue were now and were long afterward to be very prominent objects of ambition--there was a feeling that, after all, G.o.d and G.o.d's blessings are the supreme things of life. So he did not let the awe of the hour pa.s.s unimproved. He acted on that awe. He then and there as best he could confessed G.o.d and his faith in Him, raising a pillar of stone in G.o.d's name and anointing it with oil in significance that the spot upon which it stood was consecrated to G.o.d. Thus he erected the first of all those tabernacles, temples, synagogues, churches, cathedrals, chapels, that have been a testimony to faith in G.o.d all over the earth. And then, as though an outward thing was not enough, but some inner thing of character was now required, he vowed a vow--the best vow probably that he, with his idea of G.o.d and of money, knew how to vow. He vowed that if G.o.d who had thus shown him his opportunity and duty would be true to His promises and would take care of him as covenanted, he, Jacob, would uphold the worship of G.o.d and would give a tenth of all he might ever obtain unto G.o.d.

That vow laid hold on Jacob's life. It began to work a change that only many, many years advanced toward completion. But it began the change.

When a soul, in a best moment of life, seeing duty clearly, or beholding a new revelation of G.o.d, crystallizes the emotions thus aroused by a vow that consecrates its dearest treasures to G.o.d, then the soul has taken its first step toward strong and beautiful character. Here it was that Esau failed. He seems to have had more traits that men would name attractive than had Jacob. An open-hearted, open-handed, out-spoken man, rough but kind and generous and ready, he at life's beginning appeared to have more in his favor than this grasping, secretive brother. When Esau's best hours came--hours when the sense of his own misdeeds rankled in his heart and when he was aware that repentance and reformation and a new application to duty should be his--he felt his situation deeply; he even, as a man of his temperament could do, shed tears of grief over his mistakes and losses. But he did not realize with awe the gravity of his situation, nor did he turn to G.o.d and to duty with a softened, chastened spirit, and vow his life in devotion to G.o.d. Jacob's right use of his best hours set Jacob's face towards G.o.d and character. Esau's wrong use of his best hours set Esau's face away from G.o.d and character.

But Jacob's life needed, as every life needs, more than one best hour.

Off in Haran where he dwelt for twenty years he was among heathen people. As he served seven years for Leah and seven years for Rachel and six years beside, he preserved many of the ideals and purposes that came to him in the morning hour at Bethel, but not all of them. These purposes seem to have kept him from idolatry and to have given him patience and fort.i.tude and prolonged endurance. Laban treated him deceivingly and unkindly. Jacob showed much self-control and much generosity. Laban's flocks increased beneath Jacob's care until Laban became a very rich man. If a lamb or a sheep was injured in any way Jacob bore all the expense connected with its hurt or its death. Had Laban recognized the value of his services, then perhaps Jacob would not again have come under the power of his own crafty, calculating, money-making propensities. But Laban treated Jacob like a slave, and Jacob retaliated with meanness. He speciously secured from Laban a large proportion of Laban's cattle, and with his wealth thus gathered started away from his angry master toward the old-time Bethel, that somehow was always in his memory. There was a sense in which he deserved every sheep and goat and servant that he had: he had earned them all; they ought by right of service to be his. But in another sense he had tricked Laban and was going away with ill-gotten gains.

Now is to come the second great crisis in his life. Jacob is to venture into the country where Esau is, Esau who for years has been cherishing hatred against Jacob. Hatred cherished sours and becomes malice. Esau was a difficult one to meet--fierce, strong, and determined. It was then that another great hour came to Jacob. To the east he had parted company with Laban, who had become reconciled to Jacob and who had given him his farewell blessing. To the west, where Bethel lay and whither his heart called him, is Esau. How shall he meet Esau? He does now what seems, from the night at Bethel, to have become more or less of a custom with him; he consults G.o.d. He lays the situation as it lies in his mind before G.o.d. He thus tries to see the situation as it actually is when seen in the presence of One who is omniscient. As he thus studies the situation he deems it wise to send ahead, in relays, goodly parts of his flocks, which, as they pa.s.s Esau, should be announced as gifts to Esau.

It is the same cool, calculating Jacob still at work. Then he sends forward all his family and all his cattle, over the Jabbok, toward the country where Esau is. This done he remained behind alone.

Again it was the night-time. There was darkness, the darkness that often is so conducive to earnest thought and clear vision of the right. Light is indeed essential that men already in the path of duty may walk safely therein, but the path of duty itself is more often discovered when we look out of darkness than when we stand in the sunlight.

It was a time of uncertainty and almost of fear on Jacob's part--a time of heart searching in view of the past and of hesitation in view of the present. Such a time can come only to one who has ceased being a mere child and has entered into the experiences of manhood. The great questions of the nature of G.o.d and of the protection of His providence stirred in Jacob's heart. His had been a sinful career. Still he had repented, and repenting had grown in grace. But even yet his faith was fearful and his trust hesitant. Was G.o.d really on his side? Would this G.o.d, the G.o.d that had promised to bring him back to Canaan and give him a place there, surely preserve him? Then it was, while these questions were throbbing within him, that in the darkness one like a man grappled with him in wrestling. Should he be faint-hearted and cowardly, distrusting G.o.d's promise of protection, and let this stranger throw him, kill him, and so forever end the possibility of G.o.d's fulfilling His promise? Or should he lay hold of G.o.d's promise to sustain him, and do his best to throw this stranger, and thus preserve his life and accomplish his mission? It was a decisive time. Luther had such a time the night before the Diet of Worms, when he had to wrestle with the thought "Shall I be distrustful of G.o.d's providence and recant to-morrow, or shall I hold fast to my faith in G.o.d and stand by the truth to-morrow?" Hamilton had such a time the night before he decided that he would be burned at the stake rather than deny the truth. Such times come into many lives, when great questions about a right or a wrong marriage, a right or a wrong business, a right or a wrong amus.e.m.e.nt, must be decided.

Jacob _would_ not surrender to fear! He _would_ trust G.o.d to continue his life. He therefore relaxed no hold on the stranger, but wrestled with him as best he could. Then came the revelation. The stranger simply touched the hollow of Jacob's thigh and by that touch put it out of joint! Here was an Almighty One wrestling with him! Jacob realized that _G.o.d_ had come to him! With that revelation, even in his weakened condition, he clings the closer to the stranger; he _will_ hold on to G.o.d. "Let me go, for the day breaketh," cries the stranger. "I will not let thee go, except thou bless me," Jacob replies. Jacob cleaves to G.o.d.

Jacob longs for G.o.d's blessing. He has found G.o.d very near to him. He will avail himself of His nearness. The face of G.o.d is turned upon him in love. He will not let this hour go without getting from it all the inspiration and help he can obtain.

And he did obtain the best blessing that ever came to his life--the blessing that a.s.sured him his character was to be completely changed, and made beautiful and strong for G.o.d. Christ once said to a weak, impulsive, oft-falling man: "Thou art Simon, son of Jonah"--that is, the "listening" son of a weak "dove," unreliable, changeable, frail--"thou shalt be Peter"--that is, a "rock," firm, stable. Christ thus indicated that he would make of weak Simon a resolute, trustworthy Peter, as He did. Just so G.o.d in this hour said, "Thy name shall be called no more Jacob"--the "supplanter," the tricky, the calculating--"but Israel"--a "prince of G.o.d," a man that has power with G.o.d and men, a man that even _prevails_ with G.o.d and men!

What a benediction that was, one of the choicest in all history! No higher designation could be promised to such a man as Jacob had been, than "Israel"! I would rather--under G.o.d and for G.o.d--have that name given me by G.o.d than any other name that can be named upon a weak, frail man: "Israel"--a man who can _prevail_ with his _fellows_ and with _G.o.d_ for _human good_!

All this came about because Jacob used aright his best hours; because when G.o.d was near him, he held on to G.o.d; because when he was discouraged and heavy-hearted and the prospect was dark, he trusted G.o.d; because when he was weakened and brought low, he would not let G.o.d go unless He bless him. "Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him," Job said. "Even if G.o.d will not deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, still we will not disobey Him," said the three prisoners at Babylon.

Henceforth in Jacob's life there would still be vicissitudes. Troubles, responsibilities, disappointments, sorrows, needs, would come. His children did not always treat him aright. Joseph was mourned as dead.

Benjamin was taken from him to Egypt. He had cares and burdens, as all men must have them, until life's end. But the thought of G.o.d became increasingly precious to him year by year; his spirit sweetened and softened; his memory was full of the loving kindnesses of G.o.d, and his hope laid hold on a blessed future. Down in Egypt as he draws nigh to death he triumphantly speaks of "G.o.d, before whom my fathers, Abraham and Isaac, did walk, the G.o.d which fed me all my life long unto this day, and the Angel which redeemed me from all evil." He died a man of G.o.d, honored in his day, and honored since--a man who had such faith in the promises that he charged Joseph to carry his body to the Holy Land and bury it there where the Christ was to come. He started life with most unfortunate traits of character and in most unfortunate surroundings of environment, but he came off a victor, not a perfect man, but a successful man, a man whom we may well praise, a man who preserved the faith and blessed the world, and all because he made a right use of his best hours.

Where the highest thoughts are in the air, where the holiest persons gather, where the loftiest influences of G.o.d's Holy Spirit breathe, there we do well to go. There we do well to stay. Any voice that calls us nearer G.o.d should be followed, any motion of our heart toward duty should be obeyed. G.o.d is sure to send us, one and all, special hours in which His wishes are clear to our understandings and His promises are rea.s.suring to our wills. Those are the golden hours of existence. Even G.o.d can provide no better. If we use these best hours aright, our whole moral nature is changed, and the weakest of us becomes a mighty "prince of G.o.d."

GIVING OUR BEST TO G.o.d.

CHAPTER IX.

GIVING OUR BEST TO G.o.d.

G.o.d asks every man to give to Him his best. It is G.o.d's way, G.o.d's undeviating way with each individual to say to him, "Whatever in yourself or in your possessions is best, that I ask you to devote to Me."

Students of G.o.d, in all ages, have recognized this fact. They have understood that a human life cannot wholly follow G.o.d unless all the holdings of that life are consecrated to G.o.d. They have also understood that a man's "all" includes his best, and that unless that best is G.o.d's, the man's real heart and the man's strongest purposes are not G.o.d's.

Abraham realized these truths. Accordingly, when Abraham, pondering his personal relation to G.o.d, asked himself whether he was a perfectly devoted man, the thought of his son Isaac crept into his mind. Isaac was his only real son. He dearly loved him. He was the supreme treasure of his heart. Abraham's hopes centered in Isaac. His ambitions and his joys were bound up in that son and in that son's life.

Was Abraham willing to give to G.o.d his best treasure, his Isaac? That was the question Abraham found himself called upon to face. In facing it he was affected by the theories of consecration that prevailed among the surrounding nations. Those theories a.s.serted that consecration meant sacrifice--that to consecrate a lamb to a G.o.d meant to slay the lamb upon the altar of that G.o.d, and that to consecrate a child to Jehovah would mean to slay the child upon the altar of Jehovah.

As he thought on these things and knew G.o.d wished him to give to Him his best, there came to him a conviction that spoke to his heart with all the authority of the voice of G.o.d. "Abraham, if you are ready to give Me your best, you will take Isaac, your son, your only son, whom you love, and in Moriah offer him there for a burnt-offering."

That was the most searching command that could have entered his soul. It asked of him the sacrifice of the dearest object of his life.

n.o.bly, even sublimely, did he meet the test. Believing, according to the ideas prevalent about him, that perfect devotion to G.o.d and to G.o.d's kingdom called him to lift his fatherly hand and plunge the knife of death into the heart of his child, Abraham lifted his hand for the sacrifice. In that act G.o.d, who ever stood ready to correct Abraham's misconception of method, had evidence that before Him was an absolutely loyal soul. Here was one who to all generations might deservedly be called, "The father of the faithful." Accordingly, with the man who would give Him his best and who thus became a worthy example for all mankind, G.o.d made a covenant; "In Abraham and in his seed all the nations of the earth should be blessed."

This impressive scene heads the very beginning of the salvation of the race. It is the prelude to the definite record of the world's redemption. It ushers in that line of history that starting with Abraham advances through a chosen people until a Christ is come and in Him and through Him and for Him all people are asked to give their best to G.o.d and to the world's help.

What is a person's best? Sometimes the question can easily be answered.

In Malachi's time, when people were bringing their offerings to the temple, and those offerings were the blind, the lame, and the sick of the flock, it was evident that these imperfect creatures were not the best. The best were the clear-eyed, the strong-limbed, and the vigorous-bodied sheep that were left at home. Of two talents or five talents or ten talents, all in the possession of the same owner, it is clear that the ten talents are the best. The thing that to a man's own heart is the dearest is to him his best. The thing that for the world's betterment is the most helpful is to that world the man's best. Usually these two things are the same thing; a man's dearest treasure consecrated to the world's uplift is the best thing he can give to the world's good. Whatever carries a man's undivided and enthusiastic heart into usefulness is the best that he can offer to G.o.d and to G.o.d's world.

For a man is at his best when in utter self-abnegation his heart is enlisting every power of mind and body in devotion to a worthy cause.

Moses was good as a shepherd. The rabbins love to tell of his protection of sheep in time of danger and of his provision for them in time of need. But Moses was at his best when, under G.o.d's call, he conquered his fear and reluctance, resolved to do what he could to rescue Israel from cruel Pharaoh, and throwing his heart into the effort, undertook the redemption of his race. Joshua was good as a servant and as a spy, but he was at his best when he took the lead of armies, won glorious victories, and wisely administered government. Paul was good when he sat at the feet of Gamaliel and studied well, and when, grown older, he was an upright citizen of Judea, but Paul was at his best when, under the inspiration of a cause that inflamed his whole life, he pleaded on Mar's Hill, wrote to Roman saints, and triumphed over suffering in prison.

It is not easy for a youth to know what is his best. He is uncertain of his apt.i.tudes. He is not sure that he _has_ special apt.i.tudes. His marked characteristics have not become clear to his own eye, if they have become clear to the eyes of others; nor does he understand what power is latent in his distinctive characteristics, whose existence he is beginning to suspect. Such a youth need not, must not, be discouraged and think he has no "best." He has a "best" that in G.o.d's sight individualizes him, a "best" that G.o.d wishes consecrated to him.

Whatever is most precious to that youth, whatever he least likes to have injured and most likes to have prosper, that is the element of his life that he should lay at G.o.d's feet. If the most treasured possession of his being is thus given to G.o.d, G.o.d in the due time will develop its apt.i.tudes. He will provide a place or an hour when those apt.i.tudes shall be given opportunity. No Moses--competent for mighty tasks--is ever allowed to remain unsummoned, provided such competency is wholly given to G.o.d. There are many marvels in human history, but no marvel is greater than the coming of the hour of opportunity to every man to do his best and to reveal his best. It is not so much a question of what is our best, as it is whether we are willing to consecrate the thing we prize most to the service of G.o.d's world.

That world _needs_ our best. The problems of human society and the wants of men can never be met by the cheap. What costs the giver little, accomplishes little with the receiver. Skin deep beneficences never penetrate beyond the skin of those helped. The woes of the world lie far beneath the skin. When we study them, we are amazed by their depth; we see how futile many of the efforts of mankind to relieve them are. The failure of so many of these efforts causes some souls to question whether it is possible for any one ever to relieve humanity's needs.

That question will always suggest a negative answer, so long as the superficial, the secondary, and the merely good are brought to the relief of mankind. It is only when the best that an individual can give or society can provide is offered men that men will be redeemed.

The existence in our world to-day of so much sin and sorrow is most significant. It exists and will continue to exist so long as we bring anything less than our best to its help. There was no cure for the lepers of Palestine so long as men threw them coins that they could easily spare, gave them food that cost them little self-denial, and said under their breath, "How pitiable those lepers are!" But when One came who gave _Himself_ for them, who risked being put out of synagogue and temple and all society by _touching_ them, who even ceremonially defiled Himself with their defilement, and thus did the best He possibly could do for them, the lepers were healed.

The best men in the world are not too good for the world's needs. The streets of cities and the lanes of towns will never be purified by any instrumentalities of usefulness that are less than the best. The heathen world has not a village in which the wisest, n.o.blest, purest man or woman will not have to battle hard before the work to be done can be done. Inexpensive apparatus may avail where operations are simple, but the most expensive apparatus that can be found is required where operations are intensely complicated.

It sometimes seems as though even intelligent people had not comprehended these facts. They talk of the foolishness of casting pearls before swine. But the woes of humanity are not the woes of swine. They are the woes of men and women in bondage to wrong--and pearls are none too good to set before them that thereby the beauty of life may be seen by them and thereby that earthly condition of society whose every gate is one single pearl of purity, may be desired by them. If in a home we cannot be a comfort to the sorrowful, or in a school be an inspiration to the laggard, or in business be a cheer to the discouraged, without giving the very best out of our hearts that we can give, how shall we expect that the great ma.s.s of evil congested in dense centers and compacted through ancient custom, will ever be purified, unless we take the best resources we can command, in ourselves and in others, and bring those best resources face to face, yes, heart to heart, to that ma.s.s of evil. The world will never be saved until we offer our Isaacs upon the altar of its needs.

That world _deserves_ our best. We never can repay to this world the good this world has done us. The richest man on the earth is the most heavily indebted to his fellows. All our knowledge, culture, and safety are gifts from others. Our schools are the product of men who for a hundred generations have thought and labored for us. "Every ship that comes to America got its chart from Columbus. Every novel is a debtor to Homer." The more of treasure any man has, the more of toil others have borne for him. The best elements of our homes, our business, and our civilization reach us through the tears and blood of others. Were the man who has two hundred millions of dollars to attempt to meet his indebtedness to the world by the expenditure of that sum in charities, he would not _begin_ to discharge his indebtedness. Every single benefit we enjoy cost many men their best.

The n.o.bler our type of manhood the gladder we are to acknowledge this indebtedness and the gladder we are in our present place and time to give our best for others.

"Fame is what you have taken, Character is what you give; When to this truth you waken, Then you begin to live."

Something of fineness and of greatness is lacking in the person who thinks himself above his neighbors and their needs. The better and the larger a man becomes, the readier he is to declare himself a brother to suffering humanity and to feel that no sacrifice he can make of himself is too costly if thereby he can elevate others. It is "angelic" to be a ministering spirit sent forth to minister to those who may be made heirs of salvation.

The highest examples possible to our emulation confirm this theory of the gift of the best. Christ Himself withheld not any treasures He possessed, but He gave them all and gave them cheerily for foolish humanity. He laid upon the altars of the world's need His best wisdom, His best power, His best glory. He even laid upon that altar His own precious life, and He laid it there, in all its spotlessness, subject to the very curses of men.

So, too, did the Father unhesitatingly give His best for the world's welfare. He gave His Son, His only begotten Son, in whom He was well pleased, to save the lost. He gave that Son to any and to every pain involved in the cheering of the sorrowful and the strengthening of the weak. Not even from Gethsemane, no, nor from Calvary, did He withhold His best. What Abraham was ready to do, but what G.o.d spared him from doing, that G.o.d Himself did--and G.o.d's Isaac was stretched upon the cross and died there a sacrifice.

It is the gift of the best that touches the heart of the recipient.

Superficial kindnesses are impotent, but kindnesses that involve the surrender of the giver's treasures sway the soul of the recipient. This is not always true, but it is true as a principle. "They will reverence My Son." Yes, though they pay no heed to mere servants and prophets, and though some unappreciative men slay even the Son, other men, the great mult.i.tude of men, when they realize that the Son is G.o.d's best possession, and realize that in His gift of Christ G.o.d exhausts the treasury of His heart, will reverence His Son. The cross is sure to win the whole world to G.o.d, because the cross stands for G.o.d's gift of His best. G.o.d's way of doing good should be our way. It is the only way that has a.s.surance of success. Our wisest learning, our best possessions, our choicest scholars, our dearest children, our brightest hours, our largest abilities--all must be given to the service of humanity, if the needs of humanity are to be met.

Look where we will, the souls of men are waiting for help. Thousands upon thousands of lives will not suffice to provide this help. Millions upon millions of dollars may be expended, and still, in this land and in other lands, there will be the dest.i.tute, the afflicted, and the enslaved. It was not Abraham's gift of his sheep nor of his shekels that made him the forerunner of the Christ, but it was his gift of Isaac. Our gift of the best alone will put us in line with Abraham and Christ, and make our service a power for salvation.

Only a large-hearted life will give its best to G.o.d. Small hearts cling to their best treasures. Achan puts G.o.d's name on every object found in fallen Jericho excepting the most valuable; that he hides in his tent.