Like the Spartans, every Christian is born a warrior. It is his destiny to be assaulted; it is his duty to attack. Part of his life will be occupied with defensive warfare. He will have to defend earnestly the faith once delivered to the saints; he will have to resist the devil; he will have to stand against all his wiles; and having done all, still to stand. He will, however, be but a sorry Christian if he acteth only on the defensive; he must be one who goes against his foes. He must be able to say with David, "I come against thee in the name of the Lord of hosts, the God of the armies of Israel whom thou hast defied." He must wrestle not with flesh and blood, but against principalities and powers. He must have weapons for his warfare—not carnal—but "mighty through God to the pulling down of strongholds." He must not be content to live in the stronghold well-guarded, but he must go forth to attack the castles of the enemy, and to drive the Canaanite out of the land. But there are many ways in which the Christian may, to a great degree, forget his martial character. And, alas! there are not a few who, if they be Christians at all, certainly know but very little of that daily warfare to which the Captain of our salvation calleth His disciples. They have a soft religion; a religion which shuns opposition; a reed-like religion, which bows before every blast, unlike that cedar of godliness which standeth aloft in the midst of the storm, and claps its boughs in the hurricane for very joy of triumph, though the earth be all in arms abroad. Such men lack the faith which shares the glory. Though saved, yet their names shall not be found written among the mighty men who, for our Great Commander's sake, are willing to suffer the loss of all things, and to go forth without the camp bearing His reproach. O, let us never be contented with such inglorious ease, but earnestly and manfully fight the Lord's battles. Is it a little thing for a follower of Christ to be losing the immortal honor of serving the Lord? What will not men do to win fame? and shall we, when it lies at our doors, turn idly aside and cast our glory to the ground? Let us be up and doing, for it is no light thing to be losing the honor of a faithful servant of Christ.
Life's Great Object.
As Christians, we ought ever to be distinguished from the world in the great object of our life. As for worldly men, some of them are seeking wealth, others of them fame; some seek after comfort, others after pleasure. Subordinately you may seek after any of these, but your main and principal motive as a Christian should always be to live for Christ. To live for glory? Yes, but for His glory. To live for comfort? Yes, but be all your consolation in Him. To live for pleasure? Yes, but when you are merry, sing psalms, and make melody in your hearts to the Lord. To live for wealth? Yes, but to be rich in faith. You may lay up treasure, but lay it up in heaven, "where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal." You can make the most common calling become really sacred by dedicating your daily life wholly to the service of Jesus, taking as your motto, "For me to live is Christ." There is such a thing as living thus a consecrated life; and if any deny its possibility let them stand self-convicted, because they obey not that precept: "Whether therefore ye eat, or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God."
Love's Circumference.
The Christian's sympathy should ever be of the widest character, because he serves a God of infinite love. When the precious stone of love is thrown by grace into the crystal pool of a renewed heart, it stirs the transparent life-floods into ever-widening circles of sympathy: the first ring has no very wide circumference—we love our household; for he who careth not for his own household is worse than a heathen man. But mark the next concentric ring—we love the household of faith: "We know that we have passed from death unto life, because we love the brethren." Look once more, for the ever-widening ring has reached the very limit of the lake, and included all in its area, for "supplications, prayers, intercessions, and giving of thanks are to be made for all men." A follower of Jesus means a friend of man. A Christian is a philanthropist by profession, and generous by force of grace; wide as the reign of sorrow is the stretch of his love, and where he cannot help he pities still.