He is God’s minister in his encouragements. When he cheers me, it is “the Sun of righteousness who rises with healing in His wings.” All radiant words are just lamps for “the light of life.” All genial speech carries flame from the altar fire of heaven.
And he is God’s minister in his reproofs. He uses a clean knife: there is no poison on the blade. And when he does surgeon’s work upon me, it is clean work, healthy work, the relentless enemy of disease. Some men cut me, and the wound festers. There is malice in the deed. My friend wounds me in order that he may give me a larger, sweeter life.
DECEMBER The Second
THE LORD AS A FRIEND
John xv. 8-17.
E are my friends!”
In my Lord’s friendship there is the ministry of sacrifice. “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” This great Friend is always giving His blood. It is a lasting shame when professed Christians are afflicted with spiritual anæmia. And yet we are often so fearful, so white-faced, so chicken-hearted, so averse from battle, that no one would think us to be “the soldiers of the Lord.” We need blood. “Except ye drink my blood ye have no life.”