Seed Corn from Barzillai's Gift.
TWICE is the aged Barzillai brought before us in Scripture. On the first occasion, when David, fleeing from his unnatural son, had with his faithful followers crossed over Jordan, the Gileadite, himself too old to join in the approaching conflict, brought valuable help to those who were to bear the burden and heat of the day.
Let us notice the minuteness with which every article of the old man's gift is noted down in the Word of God, not even the homeliest omitted. "Barzillai the Gileadite of Rogelim brought beds, and basons, and earthen vessels, and wheat, and barley, and flour, and parched corn, and beans, and lentiles, and parched pulse, and honey, and butter, and sheep, and cheese of kine, for David, and for the people that were with him, to eat: for they said, The people is hungry, and weary, and thirsty, in the wilderness." Considerate kindness was shown; the mind of the old man had revolved what would be most needed, and therefore most welcome; his was a freewill offering, a timely offering, gladly accepted, and afterwards royally requited.
Again old Barzillai comes before us in Scripture, but not this time as bringing aid to a fugitive, but as welcoming a king at the head of victorious forces. David was returning to reign when the venerable Gileadite went over Jordan with the king. Then were the old man's loyal services acknowledged and richly rewarded; his was the kiss, and the blessing, and the promise, "Whatsoever thou shalt require of me, that will I do for thee." That was a day of honour and of rejoicing to the faithful Barzillai when his royal master returned in peace to his own.
A few thoughts are suggested to the mind by the parallel between the position of David's followers in their time of need, and that of Christ's soldiers now struggling in warfare against the powers of evil, especially as regards missionaries in heathen lands. This is a time when many of the followers of our heavenly King are called, as it were, into the wilderness. The missionary quits home and country, and goes forth to do battle with idolatry in the dark places of the earth. We read of the brave devotion of Ittai, who, when David would have dismissed him from sharing his perils, exclaimed, "As the Lord liveth, and as my lord the king liveth, in what place my lord the king shall be, whether in death or life, there will thy servant be!" and we feel that such is the spirit which should animate the Christian missionary. But we need our Barzillais also, to strengthen the hands of those whose perils and hardships they are unable to share.
"What have I done to aid the missionary cause?" is a question which each should solemnly ask his conscience. We rest in our comfortable homes, on our tables are the honey and the butter, in our barns the barley and the wheat. Have our offerings to our King, in the persons of His servants, been proportioned to the means bestowed upon us by the rich bounty of God?
How much lies in that word "proportioned!" The widow with her two mites gave, we know, more than all the rich who cast into the treasury. What proportion does what we bestow on the cause of missions bear to what we spend on our pleasures? Are there not many who would be startled by the idea of its being their duty to subscribe to missions a sum equal to what they would, without a scruple, lavish on a single entertainment, a picture, or an article of plate?
The question of "systematic beneficence" rises before us. Some urge on us the duty of devoting a tenth of all that we possess to the Lord; others would have us not mete out our charity thus, but would bid us give as we have the power, whenever our help is required. It seems that the adoption of either mode of giving should greatly depend on the character of the individual, and that we should study our own dispositions, to know which we should make our own. There are some Christians whose zeal is so warm, whose hearts so liberal, that the idea of fixing upon any proportion as a rule would only chill and cramp their charity. When St. Paul was delighting to spend and to be spent, who would have suggested to him that he should lay aside a "tenth" of his earnings for God! We do not measure out the waters of the overflowing river that pours its rich treasures through the land; we should but mar its beauty by attempting to curb its windings and bring it to a uniform width. Let it contract here, or expand there; it is ever flowing onward, a type of the "cheerful giver," whom God loveth.
But the bounty of many—perhaps of most men—is not so full or so free. If we have not the river, let us dig the canal,—that is, adopt the rule of systematic beneficence, mete out boundaries and fix embankments, not to prevent the waters of charity from overflowing, but to prevent their being encroached upon by the sand of selfishness, the mud of worldliness. Thus has God walled in His Sabbaths, not to confine devotion to one in seven, but (amongst other reasons) to insure a given space for its exercise, from which earthly concerns should be carefully excluded.
The Christian makes his business arrangements as if the week held but six days, and inconveniences are thus avoided which would otherwise often arise. If he were in like manner to count but nine-tenths of his income as his own, and systematically consider the remaining portion as not his, but God's, he would, in most cases, no more miss the tenth of his earnings than he now does the seventh of his days, and the consecrated gold, like the consecrated Sabbath, would, with God's blessing upon it, yield a rich harvest through ages eternal.