Elijah - Servant of God
THE PROPHET IN RETIREMENT

Once our prophet delivered his testimony, he was again called away from public view into retirement and solitude. “And the word of the Lord came unto him, saying, Get thee hence, and turn thee eastward, and hide thyself by the brook Cherith, that is before Jordan.”

These words are full of instruction. As a result of his previous retirement and exercise of soul in the presence of God, Elijah had taken a prominent place in the presence of Israel. Even so, God thought it needful to have him again in private, so that while occupying a high place in the presence of his brethren, he might sustain a low place in the presence of God. This is full of teaching for us. We must be kept low. Flesh must be crushed. The time we spend training in secret must far exceed the time we serve in public. After having been alone with God, and only for a brief moment, Elijah stood in public testimony. Then he again went away into seclusion for 3½ years.

Truth is, when set in a place of honor, we can’t be trusted. We soon forget ourselves and God. We will soon see how much our honored prophet needed to be kept in retirement. The Lord knew his temperament and tendencies, and dealt with him accordingly. It is truly humiliating to think how little we can be trusted to publicly testify for Christ. We are so full of self, that we vainly imagine that we are something, and that God will do much through us. Like our prophet, we need to be told to “hide ourselves,” to get away from public view, that we may learn our own proper nothingness, in the holy calmness of our Father’s presence.

The spiritual mind understands the importance of all this. It would never do to always be before the eye of man – no human being can stand it. The Son of God Himself constantly sought a solitary place, apart from the din and bustle of the city, where He might enjoy a quiet retreat for prayer, and secret communion with God. “Jesus went unto the Mount of Olives.” “Rising up a great while before day, He departed into a solitary place and there prayed.”

But it was not because He needed to hide Himself, for His entire path on earth was a hiding of self. The spirit of His ministry is seen in these words, “My doctrine is not Mine, but His that sent Me.” Would that all the Lord’s servants knew more of this! We all need to hide self more – much more than we do.

The devil constantly works on our poor silly hearts. He knows that our thoughts revolve around ourselves; that we often make our service and the truth of God a pedestal on which to show our own glory. Therefore, it is no marvel that we are seldom used: how can the Lord make use of agents who will not give Him the glory? How can the Lord use Israel, when Israel is prone to vaunt himself? Let us pray to be made more humble, more self-abased, more willing to be looked on as “a dead dog, or a flea,” or “the off-scouring of all things,” or nothing at all, for the name of our gracious Master.

Elijah was called to sojourn many days in a lonely retreat by the brook Cherith. However, he went with a precious promise, a gracious assurance from the Lord God of Israel, regarding his needed provision, “I have commanded the ravens to feed thee there.” While hidden from public view, the Lord took care of His dear servant, ministering to his necessities by the instrumentality of ravens. What a strange provision. What a continual exercise of faith – watching for the daily visits of birds that naturally desired to devour the prophet’s meal. But was it on the ravens that Elijah lived? No; his soul reposed in the precious words, “I have commanded.” It was in God’s work and not the ravens that Elijah trusted. He had the God of Israel with him – he lived by faith. We are truly blessed when we cling, in unaffected simplicity, to the promise of God.

What a joy it is to be lifted above the power of circumstances, apprehending God’s presence and care! Elijah was hiding from man, while God was showing Himself to Elijah. When we set self aside, we may be assured that God will reveal Himself in power to our souls. If Elijah had persisted in occupying a prominent public place, he would not have been provided with spiritual strength. He must be hidden, for the streams of Divine provision and refreshment flowed for him only in one location – the place of retirement and self-abasement. “I have commanded the ravens to feed thee there.” If the prophet were anywhere else but “there” he would have received nothing from God.

Why are our souls so often lean and barren? Why do we drink so little from the streams of divinely provided refreshment? The answer is simple: Because we are not sufficiently hiding self. We cannot expect God to strengthen and refresh us for the purpose of earthly display. He will strengthen us for Himself. If we could only realize that we are “not our own” – then, and only then, will we enjoy more spiritual power.

Consider that little word “there.” In order to enjoy God’s supplies, Elijah needed to be “there” and nowhere else. So it is with Christians. We must know where God would have us to be, and there we must abide. We have no right to choose our place, for the Lord “orders the bounds of our habitation.” Only by submitting to His wise and gracious ordering can we be spiritually happy. It was at the brook Cherith, and there alone, that the ravens were commanded to convey bread and flesh to the prophet; he might wish to sojourn elsewhere, but, if he had done so he would have been on his own; without God to provide for him. So Elijah went to Cherith, for the Lord had “commanded the ravens to feed him there.” The divinely appointed provision is only provided in the divinely appointed place.

Thus, Elijah was conveyed from solitude to solitude. He had come from the mountains of Gilead, with a message from the Lord God of Israel to Israel’s king. Having delivered that message, God conducted him into unbroken solitude, there to have his spirit exercised; his strength renewed in the presence of God.

Who would be without those sweet and holy lessons learned in secret? Who would dismiss the Father’s training? Who would not long to be led away from the eye of man, above the influence of things earthly and natural, into the pure light of Divine Presence, where self and all around are viewed and estimated according to the judgment of the sanctuary? In other words, who would not desire to be alone with God? – not merely as a sentimental expression, but really, practically, and experimentally alone with God; like Moses at the mount of God; like Aaron in the holiest of all; like our prophet at the brook Cherith; like John on the island of Patmos; and above all, like Jesus on the mount.

What does it mean to be alone with God? It is to set aside self and the world; to impress on the spirit thoughts of God – His perfections and excellencies, allowing all His goodness to pass before us; to see Him as the great Provider; to get above the reasonings of flesh, above the ways of earth, and Satan; and, above all, to feel that we have been introduced into this holy solitude, simply and exclusively through the precious blood of our Lord Jesus Christ.

These are some of the results of being alone with God. But, in truth, it is a term which one simply cannot explain to another, because each spiritually-minded saint will have his/her own feelings on the subject. We should all crave to secretly be in our Father’s presence; to be done with the weariness and wretchedness of endeavoring to maintain our character – to know the joy, the liberty, the peace, and unaffected simplicity of the sanctuary where God in all His varied attributes and perfections rises before our souls and fills us with ineffable bliss.

However, even though Elijah was happily alone by the brook Cherith, he was not exempt from the deep exercise of soul consequent on a life of faith. In obedience to Divine command, the ravens paid him daily visits, and Cherith flowed, so Elijah had bread and water, and as far as he was personally concerned, he might well forget that the rod of judgment was stretched out over the land.

But faith must be tested. The man of faith must be emptied from vessel to vessel; the child of God must pass from form to form in the school of Christ, and, through grace, having mastered the difficulties of one, he will be called to grapple with those of another. Therefore, “it came to pass, after a while, that the brook dried up” – it was needful that the soul of the prophet be tried to determine whether he was depending on Cherith, or the Lord God of Israel.

Because of the infirmity of our flesh, we are ever in danger of our faith being propped up by circumstances – when favorable, we think of our faith as strong, and vice versa. But faith never looks at circumstances; it looks straight to God – based exclusively on God and His promises. Thus it was with Elijah; it mattered little to him whether Cherith continued to flow or not; he trusted God.

God was his unfailing exhaustless fountain. The brook might yield to the influence of prevailing drought, but the prophet knew that no drought could affect God. He knew that the Word of the Lord was certain, and so it was, for “the word of the Lord came to him, saying, Arise, get thee to Zarephath, which belongeth to Zidon, and dwell there; behold I have commanded a widow woman there to sustain thee.”

Elijah’s faith must still rest on the same immutable basis. “I have commanded.” What a blessing. Circumstances change; human things fail; creature streams dry up, but God and His Word are the same yesterday, today, and forever. The prophet does not appear the least disturbed by this fresh order from on high. No; like Israel of old, he had learned to pitch and strike his tent according to the movement of Jehovah’s cloud. The camp was called to attentively watch the wheels of that heavenly chariot that rolled onward toward the land of rest, halting here and there in the wilderness to provide them a resting place. It was the same with Elijah; he took up his solitary post by the banks of Cherith, then tread his way to Zarephath of Zidon in undeviating obedience to “the word of the Lord.”

Old Israel was not allowed to make plans; Jehovah took care of planning and arranging everything. He told them when and where they were to move and stop, signifying His sovereign pleasure to them at various intervals by movement of the cloud. “Whether it were two days, or a month, or a year, that the cloud tarried upon the tabernacle, remaining thereon, the children of Israel abode in their tents, and journeyed not; but when it was taken up they journeyed. At the commandment of the Lord they rested in their tents, and at the commandment of the Lord they journeyed” (Num. 9:22-23).

This was the happy condition of the Lord's redeemed, while passing from Egypt to Canaan. Regarding their movements, they never had their own way. If an Israelite had refused to move when the cloud moved, or to halt when it halted, he would have been left to starve in the wilderness. The rock and manna followed them as long as they followed Jehovah. In other words, food and refreshment were found only in the path of simple obedience. So it was with Elijah. He was not permitted to have a will of his own; he could not fix the time of his sojourn at Cherith, nor the time for his removal to Zarephath; “the word of the Lord” settled everything – through obedience he found sustenance.

What a lesson for us. The path of obedience is the only path of happiness. If we were more successful eliminating self, our spiritual condition would be far more vigorous and healthy. Nothing ministers to the health and vigor of a soul more than undeviating obedience – strength is gained by the very effort to obey. This is true in the case of all of us, but especially to those who stand in the capacity of public servants of the Lord, who must walk in obedience to please God.

How could Elijah later say on mount Carmel, “If the Lord be God, follow Him” if his own private path had exhibited a willful and rebellious spirit? No; the path of a servant must be the path of obedience, otherwise he ceases to be a servant. The word servant is as inseparably linked with obedience, as is work with workman. “A servant,” as someone observed, “must move when the bell rings.”

This path of obedience is not easy; it involves constant abandonment of self, and can only be pursued as long as the eye is steadily focused on God, and the conscience kept under the light of His truth. True, there is a rich reward in every act of obedience, but flesh and blood must be set aside, and that is not easy. Witness the path of our prophet. He was first called to take his place by the brook Cherith, to be fed by ravens! How could flesh and blood possibly understand?

Then, when the brook failed, he was called away to a distant city of Zidon, there to be nourished by a destitute widow who seemed to be at the point of dying of starvation! Here was the command: “Arise, get thee to Zarephath, which belongeth to Zidon, and dwell there: behold, I have commanded a widow woman there to sustain thee.”

Upon arrival at this place, did Elijah derive any confirmation from appearances? None whatsoever; in fact, what did appear would have cast doubts and fears had he been considering circumstances only. “So he arose, and went to Zarephath. And when he came to the gate of the city, behold, the widow woman was there gathering of sticks; and he called to her, and said, Fetch me, I pray thee, a little water in a vessel, that I may drink. And as she was going to fetch it, he called to her, and said, Bring me, I pray thee, a morsel of bread in thine hand. And she said, As the Lord thy God liveth, I have not a cake, but a handful of meal in a barrel, and a little oil in a cruse: and behold, I am gathering two sticks, that I may go in and dress it for me and my son, that we may eat it, and die.”

This was the scene that presented itself to the eye of the prophet when he arrived at his divinely appointed destination; truly a gloomy and depressing one to the carnal eye – to flesh and blood. But Elijah conferred not with flesh and blood; his spirit was sustained by the immutable Word of Jehovah; his confidence was based on the faithfulness of God, and he needed no help from things around him. The horizon might look dark and heavy to mortal vision, but the eye of faith could pierce the clouds, and see “the firm foundation which is laid for faith in Jehovah’s excellent word.”

How precious is the Word of God. Well might the psalmist say, “Thy testimonies have I taken as an heritage forever.” Precious heritage! Pure, incorruptible, immortal truth! Oh, how we should bless our God for having made it our inalienable portion – a portion that, when all sublunary things have vanished from view, when the world has passed away and the lust thereof, when all flesh has been consumed as withered grass, shall prove an eternal and enduring substance to the faithful. “Thanks be to God for His unspeakable gift.”

However, Elijah did not doubt the promise of God, but was strong in faith, giving glory to God. He knew that the Most High and Almighty God would meet his necessities. Therefore, if there had not been oil or meal, it would have made no difference to him, because he looked beyond circumstances to the God of circumstances. He did not see the widow; he saw only God. He did not consider the handful of meal, but God’s command; therefore his spirit was perfectly calm and unruffled in the midst of circumstances which would have crushed the spirit of one walking by sight. As a result he was able, without a shadow of doubt, to say “Thus saith the Lord God of Israel, The barrel of meal shall not waste, neither shall the cruse of oil fail, until the day that the Lord sendeth rain upon the earth.”

Here we have the reply of faith to the language of unbelief. “Thus saith the Lord” settles everything. The moment the spirit apprehends God’s promise; there is an end to the reasonings of unbelief. Unbelief puts circumstances between the soul and God; faith puts God between the soul and circumstances. This is a very important difference. May we walk in the power and energy of faith, to the praise of Him whom faith ever honors.

But notice another point in this lovely scene: the way that death hovers around the spirit of one not walking by faith. “That we may eat it and die” is the language of the widow. Death and unbelief are inseparably linked together. The spirit can be conducted along the path of life only by the energy of faith: so, faith without energy has no life, no power, and no elevation.

Thus was it with this poor widow: her hope of life was based on the barrel of meal and the cruse of oil: beyond these she saw no springs of life, no hope of continuance. Her soul did not yet know the real blessedness of communion with the living God to whom belongs the issues of death. Since she had no hope, she was not yet able to believe in hope. It is a poor, frail, tottering hope that rests only on a cruse of oil and a barrel of meal. How scanty are those expectations that rest only on the creature!

Too often we are prone to lean on something as paltry in God's view as a handful of meal. To faith it is either God or nothing. A handful of meal in the hand of God is as sufficient to the view of faith as cattle on a thousand hills. “We have here but five loaves and two small fishes; but what are these amongst so many?” This is the language of the human heart; but faith never says “what are these amongst so many?” but what is God among so many? Unbelief says we are not able; faith says God is more than able.

And would it not be well, ere we turn from this interesting point in our subject, to apply these principles to the poor, conscience smitten sinner? Too often the conscience smitten soul clings to some vain resource of man for the pardon of sins, rather than to the accomplished work of Christ on the cross.

The trembling and fearful sinner can take comfort from the precious truth that God has, in His infinite grace, set the cross of Jesus between him and his sins, if only he will believe Divine testimony. What is the difference between a believer and unbeliever? Christ is between the believer and sin; sin is between the unbeliever and Christ.

Christ is the all engrossing object to the believer, who looks not at the enormity of sin, but at the value of blood and the preciousness of Christ, knowing that God is not now on the judgment seat, but the mercy seat. If God were on the judgment seat, His thoughts would be occupied with the question of sin, but being on the mercy seat, His thoughts are occupied on the blood of Christ. Oh for more simple and abiding communion with the mind of Heaven, and more complete abstraction from the things and thoughts of earth. May the Lord grant more of both to all His saints.

We have already observed that the man of faith must be emptied from vessel to vessel; each successive scene and stage of the believer's life is a fresh and more difficult lesson in the school of Christ.

Were the circumstances with which Elijah had to grapple at Zarephath more trying than at Cherith? Wasn’t it better to depend on human sympathies than ravens as his channel of supply? Wasn’t it better to be domesticated with human beings than to dwell in the loneliness and solitude of the brook Cherith? All this might be so; yet solitude has its gains and association its trials. There are selfish interests that work among men, hindering that refined and exquisite enjoyment.

When our prophet took up his abode by the brook, he heard no such words as “me and my son.” There was no selfish interest acting as a barrier to his sustenance and enjoyment. However, the moment he passed from retirement into human society, he was called to enter into the deep meaning of the words “me and my son,” that unfolded the hidden springs of selfishness – actuate humanity in its fallen condition.

But it must be understood that it was natural for the widow’s heart to entertain thoughts of herself and her son over others – that’s what nature always does. Hearken to the following words of a genuine child of nature: “Shall I then take my bread, and my water, and my flesh that I have killed for my shearers, and give it unto men whom I know not whence they be?” (1 Sam. 25:11).

It was the knowledge of this divine principle that enabled our prophet to say, “Make me thereof a little cake first and bring it unto me, and after make for thee and thy son.” Elijah was simply laying the divine claim on the widow's resources; and, as we know, her response to that claim brought forth a rich harvest. However, there was a demand on the widow’s faith. She was called to act a trying and difficult part, in the energy of faith to a divine promise, “Thus saith the Lord God of Israel, The barrel of meal shall not waste, neither shall the cruse of oil fail, until the day that the Lord sendeth rain upon the earth.”

Is it not the same with every true believer? Undoubtedly it is; we must act in faith. The promise of God always constitutes the great moving principle in the Christian’s soul. There would have been no exercise of faith on the part of the widow had her barrel been full. But, since it was exhausted, it was a large demand to be told to first give that last handful to a stranger – nothing but faith could have enabled her to respond.

The Lord often deals with us as He dealt with His disciples in the matter of feeding the multitude. “This He said to prove them, for He Himself knew what He would do.” He frequently calls on us to take a step involving considerable trial, and in the very act of taking it we not only see the reason for it, but receive strength to proceed. In fact, Divine claims on us for action are based on the principle involved in the command to the children of Israel of old, “Speak to the children of Israel that they go forward.”

Where were they to go? Through the sea. Strange path. Yet behind this trying command we see grace providing Moses with the ability to execute it, “But lift thou up thy rod, and stretch out thy hand over the sea, and divide it; and the children of Israel shall go on dry ground through the midst of the sea” (Ex. 14:16). Faith enables the one called to simply go, without knowing where.

But there is more than the principle of obedience to be learned from this scene between Elijah and the widow of Zarephath. For instance, we learn that nothing but the superior power of God’s grace can lift the human mind above the freezing atmosphere of selfishness in which we live, and move, and have our being. The effulgence of God’s benevolence shining in on the soul disperses the mists that envelopes the world, enabling us to think and act on higher and nobler principles than those that actuate the moving mass around us. This widow left her house influenced by no higher motive than self-interest and self-preservation, with only the thought of death on her mind.

The most illustrious, most intellectual, most learned; everyone on whose spirit the light of divine grace has never shone is like this widow – influenced by motives of self-interest and self-preservation, and having no brighter prospect than death.

Grace teaches us to live and act for others. The more our souls taste the sweetness of redeeming love, the more earnest will be our desire to serve others. In this day of lamentable coldness and indifference, we need to feel the constraining power of the love of Christ more deeply and abidingly. Would to God we all could live and act in the remembrance that we are not our own, but bought with a price.

The widow of Zarephath was taught this truth. The Lord not only put His claim on the handful of meal and the cruse of oil, but also laid His hand on her son – the cherished object of her affections. Death visited the house where they were feeding together on the precious fruits of God’s benevolence. “It came to pass, after these things, that the son of the woman, the mistress of the house, fell sick; and his sickness was so sore that there was no breath left in him.”

As we know, this son was part of her reason for not readily responding to God’s claim as put forward by Elijah; hence there is solemn instruction for us in the death of this child. We cannot please God by allowing any object, whether it be parent or child, husband or wife, brother or sister, to obstruct our path of simple obedience and devotedness to Christ. This widow gave her son a higher place than the Lord’s prophet, but when the son was taken away, she learned that it was not merely, “the handful of meal” that should be in subjection to the Lord, but also her dearest earthly object.

To hold everything in stewardship for God is no small thing. We are prone to look on things as ours, instead of remembering that everything we have and are belongs to the Lord, and should quickly be given up at His call, becoming a lasting benefit and happiness.

The widow responded to God’s claim on her handful of meal; and what followed? Her house is sustained for years. The Lord laid His hand on her son; and what followed? Her son is raised from the dead. Thus she is taught that the Lord not only sustains life, but imparts it. Resurrection power is brought to bear on her circumstances. As she had received her supplies before, she now receives her son – directly from the hand of the Lord God of Israel.

How happy to depend on such bounty. How happy to go to our barrel of meal and cruse of oil, finding it daily replenished by our Father’s generous hand – How happy to hold the dearest object of our affections in the power of resurrection. These are the privileges of the weakest believer in Jesus.

Observe the effect that God's visitation produced on this widow. It awakened a solemn question: “Art thou come to call my sin to remembrance?” When the Lord comes near, a serious sensitiveness of conscience is always produced.

In the ordinary routine of life, we often pass from day to day without much deep exercise of conscience before God. Had the Lord merely met this widow's need from day to day, the question of “sin” might never have been raised; but when death entered, conscience began to work, for death is the wages of sin.

There is a twofold action in God’s dealings with us – truth and grace. Truth discovers the evil, grace puts it away; truth unfolds what man is, grace what God is; truth brings out the hidden workings of evil in the heart of man into the light, grace brings out the rich and exhaustless springs of grace in the heart of God. Both are needful: truth, for the maintenance of God’s glory; grace, for the establishment of our blessing; truth, for the vindication of God’s character and attributes, grace for the perfect repose of the sinner’s heart and conscience.

How blessed to know that both “grace and truth came by Jesus Christ.” God’s dealings with the widow of Zarephath would not have been complete had they not elicited from her the confession contained in the last verse of our chapter, “By this I know thou art a man of God, and that the word of the Lord in thy mouth is truth.” She had learned grace in the marvelous supply of her need; she learned truth in the death of her son.

If we were more spiritually sensitive and quick-sighted, we could perceive these two features in our Father’s mode of dealing with us. We are the constant recipients of His grace, and again and again His truth brings out the evil hidden within the heart, so that we may judge and put it away. Though we see our barrel and cruse replenished, conscience is likely to slumber, until Jehovah knocks at the door by some chastening dispensation. Then our conscience awakens and enters with vigor on the seasonable work of self-judgment.

There is a considerable difference between what is called “self-examination” and self-judgment; not so much in the abstract things themselves as in the ideas which we attach to them. It is a blessed exercise to honestly, solemnly and rigidly judge our evil nature that even clogs and hinders the running of the race set before us. May the Lord grant us all more spiritual power to continually exercise this judgment. However, we must be careful that our examination of self does not hint of mistrusting God. It is on the ground of God’s grace and faithfulness that we can judge ourselves – if God be not God, everything comes to an end.

But, in this visitation, there was also a voice for Elijah. He had presented himself to the widow in the character of a man of God; therefore he needed to establish his claim to that character. Jehovah graciously did this for him by resurrecting the child. “By this I know,” said she, “that thou art a man of God.” It was resurrection that vindicated his claim on her confidence.

There must be an exhibition of a measure of resurrection power in the life of the man of God before his claim to that character can be fully established. How does this power show itself? It shows itself in the form of victory over self. The true believer is raised with Christ – made partaker of the Divine nature, bearing a body of humiliation. But, if he does not deny himself, he will soon find his character as a man of God called in question.

The prophet’s aim was higher and nobler than mere self-vindication. His aim was to establish the truth of the Word of the Lord in his mouth. This is the proper object of the man of God. His own character and reputation should be of little concern, except as they stand connected with the Word of the Lord in his mouth. It was for the purpose of maintaining the Divine origin of the Gospel that the Apostle Paul defended his apostleship in the Galatians and Corinthians epistles. To Paul it mattered little what anyone thought of him, but it mattered a great deal what they thought of Paul’s preaching of the Gospel of Christ. So, for their sakes, he was anxious to prove that the Word of the Lord in his mouth was truth.

It was important for the prophet to testify to the Divine origin of his ministry before entering the scenes in 1 Kings 18. He gained much from his retirement at Zarephath. His spirit was confirmed; he received God’s seal to his ministry; he approved himself to the conscience of one with whom he had sojourned for a long period; he was enabled to start on his public career with the happy assurance that he was a man of God – that the Word of the Lord in his mouth was truth.¹

We have now arrived at the close of a very important stage of Elijah’s history, embracing a period of 3½ years, during which he was hidden from the view of Israel. Up to now we have been occupied with the consideration of those principles of truth that lie on the surface of Elijah’s personal history. But, viewed in a mystic sense, can’t we draw instruction from his course? Yes, we may. The reference of Christ Himself to the prophet’s mission to the Gentile widow may justly lead us to see therein a foreshadowing of the gathering of the Gentiles into the church of our Lord. Consider His blessed words: “But I tell you of a truth, many widows were in Israel in the days of Elias, when the heaven was shut up for three years and six months, when great famine was throughout all the land; but unto none of them was Elias sent, save unto Sarepta, a city of Zidon, unto a woman that was a widow” (Luke 4:25-26).

The Lord Jesus had presented Himself to Israel as the prophet of God, but found no response; the daughter of Zion refused to hear the voice of her Lord. “The gracious words which proceeded out of His mouth” were answered by the carnal inquiry, “Is not this Joseph’s son?” Therefore, in the view of Israel’s scorn and rejection, he finds relief for His spirit in the happy reflection that there were objects beyond Jewish bounds to whom God’s grace (of which He was the channel) could flow out in all its richness and purity.

If the grace of God is stopped by pride, unbelief, or hardness of heart, it will simply flow more copiously to others, and so, “Though Israel be not gathered, yet shall I be glorious in the eyes of the Lord, and My God shall be My strength. And He said, It is a light thing that Thou shouldst be My servant to raise up the tribes of Jacob, and to restore the preserved of Israel: I will also give Thee for a light to the Gentiles, that Thou mayest be My salvation unto the end of the earth” (Is. 49:5-6).

Footnote:
¹Re: self-vindication. It is truly sorrowful when the servant of God is obliged to vindicate himself; it shows there must be something wrong either within himself or in those who have rendered self-vindication needful. However, when such a course becomes necessary, the glory of Christ must be kept clearly before the mind – the purity of the truth committed to his trust. Frequently, when a charge is brought either against the ministry or personal character, it draws out the pride in our hearts, and we are often too quick to stand up in self-defense. We should remember that apart from our connection with Christ and His saints, we are but vile atoms of dust, utterly unworthy; therefore we should never seek to establish our own reputation. To a certain extent, we have been constituted the depositaries of the reputation of Christ. So, provided we preserve that unsullied, we need not and should not be concerned about self. We pray the Lord may grant us all grace to walk in the abiding consciousness of our high dignities and holy responsibilities as the “epistle of Christ, known and read of all men.”

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