Bible Emblems

by Edward Eli Seelye

He lives through the power of God. His going forth is in the might of the Spirit which upholds him.

When the apostle speaks of “the exceeding greatness of his power to us-ward who believe, according to the working of his mighty power, which he wrought in Christ when he raised him from the dead;” when he talks of “striving according to his working, which worketh in me mightily;” when he, in Ephesians, attributes his call to the ministry to the effectual working of the power of the grace of God; and when he ascribes glory in the church by Jesus Christ throughout all ages, “unto him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we can ask or think, according to the power that worketh in us;” when too the apostle John tells believers that “greater is He that is in you than he that is in the world,” do you not perceive that the very sun going forth in his might through the mid-heavens is a spectacle of omnipotence no grander or more sublime than a poor Christian going forth from earth to heaven?

The necessity of this mighty interposition of the divine Spirit arises from the helplessness to which sin has reduced us, and the obstacles to a holy life which beset the Christian.

This power of the Holy Ghost dwells in the believer; first renewing or regenerating him, and then sustaining him. It operates upon his own faculties in such a way that they are called out in earnest effort. Without this power given to us, who of us could stand? We “wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against spiritual wickedness in high places.” There is no greater mistake you can fall into than to conceive that a Christian life is a task of feebleness and imbecility. If you would go forth at all, you must advance with a perseverance which never despairs, a vigilance which never slumbers, and a courage which never quails. If you would call yourself a Christian, you must run like the athlete and struggle like the wrestler; for the believer’s course is a powerful movement, like the going forth of the sun in his might.

Faith, the great executive principle of the Christian, is a far different thing from a mere assent to creeds and formulas. It is a power, a mighty power, quickened in the Christian by the Holy Spirit—a power which moves the will, and controls the lusts, and overcomes the world. Ask yourself, Do you know aught of such a power? Have you felt its workings in your soul? Has grace subdued your passions and fixed your purposes? Has it abased your pride and relaxed your covetousness? Has it worked in you mightily? If not, then has the kingdom of God come to you in word only, not in power.

Again, the sun’s going forth is a joyous progress. Nothing is more suggestive of joy than the sun shining. His very face is the synonym of gladness. Nature smiles beneath his rays. Lambs skip on the hill-sides, the birds sing gayly, the forests clap their hands.

Fit emblem is the sun’s going forth of the healthy development of a Christian life. Gloom and grace are not twin sisters. Joy is a prominent element in genuine experimental religion. “The fruits of the Spirit are love, joy, peace.” “Let the righteous be glad,” says David; “let them rejoice before God. Yea, let them exceedingly rejoice.” “Rejoice in the Lord always;” “rejoice evermore,” is the sentiment of the apostle Paul.

The want of this holy joy in your experience is no evidence of your deep piety. Rather is it a proof of a low and imperfect life—a defective faith. Surely it is the Christian, above all others, who should dwell in peace. It is he who can cherish in his bosom a felt sense of God’s favor, which is life, and of his loving-kindness, which is better than life. It is he whose soul should walk all day in the light of God’s countenance.

But let not this Christian joy be confounded with the boisterous merriment of the ungodly. It is far, very far removed from the mere pleasures of sense. It is not to be sought for in the butterflies of fashion flitting in saloons of gayety, nor in the hoarse laugh of the midnight bacchanalian revel. It is not the silly trifling of brainless fools, who are lovers of pleasure more than lovers of God. But it is the calm, the tranquil joy of the soul at peace with God. Like the joyous sun should the Christian go forth, bright and peaceful, exhibiting in his life that steady hope and cheerful confidence and benignant peace which are as wide apart from the levity and thoughtlessness of the world as they are from the austere gloom of the cloister and the repulsive asceticism of the convent.

Yours is the duty to exhibit to the world a joyous service to your Lord and Saviour. Yours is the privilege to show to your fellow-men that you have found happiness elsewhere than in folly and dissipation, and that there are other pleasures within your reach than the pleasures of sin, which are for a season.