‘NONE OF THESE THINGS MOVE ME’

‘But none of these things move me.’

Acts 20:24

When St. Paul and his companions had reached Miletus—it being the last occasion on which he should ever be in those parts, and, by the Spirit, having intimation of it—he, as the bishop, held a convocation of his clergy; and he summoned, from the city of Ephesus, those, who are called in the Bible by three names—‘elders,’ or ‘overseers,’ or ‘bishops’; and, having brought them to him at Miletus, he addressed to them that beautiful charge, of which the words of our text form a part.

How was he enabled to reach that elevation? ‘None of these things move me.’ There are three thoughts that stand out conspicuously in those words.

I. The first is calmness.—And calmness is a great gift of God—if it be only for this, that if we ‘in patience possess our souls,’ we are, through that posture of mind, enabled to think deliberately, to speak discreetly, to act wisely, and to glorify God. Self-possession is a great secret of life; and I know no road to real self-possession but true religion. So that there was a calmness in St. Paul’s mind.

II. There was elevation.—He looks down upon ‘these things,’ and says, ‘None of these things move me.’ They are little things: they are down beneath me. For so it is with a spiritual mind, as it is with the natural senses—when we get up high, things, which looked before so large, grow so diminutive; and those which appeared to us so exceeding great, when we get up into that high region of communion with God, and heavenly-mindedness, look very insignificant; and we almost wonder how we could ever have attached to them such exceeding importance. That is the secret. It is the elevation. Elevation—getting nearer to the grandnesses of eternity—makes the things of this little world seem what they really are.

III. There was independence.—The man who wishes to be independent of external circumstances must be dependent upon God. Depend somewhere, this leaning heart of man must; and if you wish not to depend upon the creature, you must depend upon the Creator. And the only way to get a real independence—a real independence of human things and external influences—is to feel an entire dependence upon God. These were the three thoughts which appear to me to compose the words, ‘None of these things move me’—calmness, elevation, and, consequently, independence.

Rev. James Vaughan.

Illustration

‘It is recorded of St. Basil that he was assailed by the threatenings, and allured by the promises of a Roman emperor, to abandon the truth of the Gospel. Dignities and riches were offered. “Alas!” said the faithful confessor, “these speeches are fit to catch little children who look after such things; we are otherwise taught by the Scriptures, and are ready to suffer a thousand deaths rather than forsake Christ.” “Know ye not who we are that command it?” said the prætor. “We submit to no one when they command such things as these.” “Know ye not that we have honours to bestow?” continued the prætor. “They,” said the confessor, “are changeable like yourselves.” The prætor threatened confiscation, torment, banishment, death. “As for confiscation, I have nothing to lose; as for banishment, heaven only is my country; as for torment, this body will soon give way; and as for death, that will only set me at liberty.” “Thou art mad!” said the prætor. “I wish I may ever be so mad,” said the servant of God. “None of these things” moved him.’

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