(Photo: F. Hollyer, Pembroke Square, W.)
R F Horton
But the Divine method of thus putting the great possession within the choice and reach of all, but forcing it on none, is in strict analogy with God's way of offering all other boons to men. The kingdom of Nature lies in the same way open for all who will exert themselves and take possession. The endless interest of the almost infinite variety of species is an open door which any investigator may enter. The bewitching beauty of sun and stars, of drifting cloud and summer skies, of all the changes of the earth and of the sea, is accessible to all, but it must be owned that only a few avail themselves of the opportunity. It seems to be the same with all the gifts of God, Who makes the sun to shine on the good and the evil alike. And thus His own being as the portion and inheritance of the soul is proffered—like the wonder and beauty of His creation—to all who will take and go in to possess it. It stretches away like the land of promise, a pleasant land flowing with milk and honey, a land of broad views and of fruitful fields, of vineyards and oliveyards, and of far distances, luminous in the fresh glory of sunrise, hazy with softened charm in the hot noon, transformed under the evening sky of crimson and gold at sunset, a land which one would have thought all might desire to possess; but, like the promised land, it is treated with scorn by those who will not believe (Ps. cvi. 24). To them the flesh-pots of Egypt are pleasanter; the very dearth and dreariness of the desert are preferred before it. A thousand excuses, imaginary fears, and obstinate depreciations are cited to evade the efforts of conquest. And this great inheritance, the portion of the human soul, God, remains unpossessed except by a handful of enterprising souls.
It should, however, be frankly acknowledged that entering into possession of this inheritance is by no means the matter of a single moment. We annex our property field by field and province by province. By searching we do not find out God unto perfection, though every further search gives us a greater joy and hope in the prosecution of it.
It is for want of this vigorous entrance into the possession that many have professed themselves disappointed with God as their portion. They have left their property unexplored and unrealised. They have neglected to pray—and prayer is the onward march into the promised land, the exercise by which the being and fulness of God are appropriated. They have forgotten to worship, and worship is the relish of possession, the discovery by gratitude and praise of what is given and what God still has to give. They have omitted the self-discipline by which the will is kept in harmony with God, and the thoughts and purposes of God take possession of the soul; and yet it is only by this kind of sustained discipline that one can have any feeling of apprehension, and progressive discovery, of God. They have forsaken the assembling of themselves together for worship, which is the forming of the host of invasion. They have ceased to study the Word, which is the chart of the land, showing all the approaches, the fastnesses to be taken, and the heights to be won. Or they have given up those good works of charity and helpfulness, the love of men, the love of souls, which are the very footsteps by which we come into the possession of God. It is this which explains the common discontent about that rich portion—God Himself—offered to the soul. The good land has only been surveyed for a moment from Pisgah; faith has flashed out as an intuition, or as a vision; but the actual and determined conquest of piece by piece, to which faith is intended to lead, has been overlooked. There are multitudes of persons who seemed to choose God as their portion in moments of religious excitement and apparent decision, but never arose to enter into possession; and they remain, in consequence, disinherited.
But this leads us to a last point which has to be observed. For one cause or another—the one just named is probably the most common—men conceive a discontent with their inheritance in God, and seek to supplement it with possessions which are regarded as more tangible and immediate. This was apparently what occurred with the priests, the Levites. Originally, as we saw in the Deuteronomic code, they were content with the Lord as their inheritance, and were fed with the meat which came from the offerings of the altar. But in a later code we find the Levites claiming cities to dwell in. There were to be forty-eight cities in all, given by the other tribes, cities of considerable size, with their corn lands and meadows (the suburbs) extending 2,000 cubits, or between a half and three-quarters of a mile, on all sides of the city; these were to be the possession of the Levites. And though six of the cities were to serve a certain religious purpose as asylums of refuge for the shedders of blood, the whole forty-eight were to be the landed property of the priests, the Levites. These forty-eight domains constituted a territory scattered throughout the tribes, as solid, and almost as bulky, as the possessions of Dan, or Asher, or Naphtali. But when we come to the book of Ezekiel, this real property of the disinherited tribe is found to be increased and consolidated; a vast district, 25,000 reeds long by 25,000 reeds broad, was to form the oblation assigned to the priests; this would be quite as large as the territory of any except the largest tribes (Ezek. xlviii. 8-30). And thus gradually, they who were to have no inheritance in the land, because the Lord Himself was their inheritance, laid claim to as large an inheritance as the rest of their brethren had.
That is a process to which the whole history of Christianity presents a series of parallels. We begin in God, in faith, in heavenly realities; we decline upon the world, and sight, and the fleeting shows of the earth.
"'Tis the most difficult of tasks to keep
Heights which the soul is competent to win."
When we have got God for our portion and inheritance, we insensibly slip away, and fix our attention on things below. We would make the security of God doubly sure, by having earthly property as well; we would depend upon God, and yet lean on an arm of flesh; we would have our treasures in heaven—for heaven when we get there; but our hoard on earth—for earth while we are here.
Poor human nature! This is our delusion. The two portions cannot be ours. If God is our inheritance, He must be all in all to us. If He gives us Christ, He freely with Him gives us all things. "All this and Christ!"—yes, but in the sense that God in Christ is everything. Never can it mean that our inheritance is partly God and partly this world, that we lean, one arm on Him and the other on uncertain earthly riches.