DIVINE GUIDANCE

‘And When he would not be persuaded, we ceased, saying, The will of the Lord be done.’

Acts 21:14

We are all conscious of the need of guidance. Some of us perhaps could say that we are conscious of the fact of guidance; most of us certainly are often greatly perplexed as to the instrument of guidance. It seems to me that St. Paul’s example may help us to discover a principle which covers our case.

I. Two conditions of Divine direction at least are common to the Apostle and to us.

(a) We no less than St. Paul must have as the governing motive of action the performance of the will of God, and

(b) We also, as the Apostle, must habitually seek in prayer the leading of the Spirit of God.

Given that motive, and given that spiritual habit, I do think that we, no less than St. Paul, shall receive the supernatural direction for which we pray, and to some of us at least as we attempt to follow that heavenly guidance the very trial of St. Paul will come. Our assurance of duty will be challenged from quarters deserving our reverent regard, and in the sequel we shall have to go against the warnings of admitted authority and the entreaty of disinterested affection. But in our case, as in the Apostle’s, the justification of our persistence will be in the inherent superiority of our own perception of duty. In the absence of any interior certitude, we may—nay, we must—be led by the lesser and lower leadings of circumstance, and I know no valid reason why we should demur to the sacred writer’s description of these leadings as also in their measure truly Divine, but when once that interior certitude is ours all the other instruments of guidance must be set aside in its favour. That is how I understand St. Paul’s behaviour. Up to a certain point in his history he was dependent from day to day on the indications of God’s will. But then was granted an immediate revelation of his personal duty. He saw the goal towards which his efforts were to be directed, he realised his purpose in life, he understood God’s will in him. Henceforward he was set free from the incertitude and inconsistencies that marked his course. His career became the steady and continuous working out of a definite project which made it intelligible.

II. The lesson for the average life.—Granting that extra-ordinary vocations which stamp on human careers a sublime aspect are but few, must we therefore conclude that from most Christians that interior certitude as to personal duty is withholden? Must the multitude of disciples live without the illumination of assured direction from God? I do not believe it. On the contrary, I hold that there is none of us who confesses that his true lot of life must be to do the will of God, and with that conviction surrenders himself wholly and deliberately to the control of God’s Spirit, who does not receive the guidance he seeks. We fail, brethren, not from lack of leading, but from lack of courage to obey the leading we have. There is most certainly a listless, jealous temper in our society which is wonderfully hostile to every kind of moral effort, and I think we all, in spite of ourselves, are affected by it, and we are tempted to lose the sense of urgency.

III. To whom guidance is given.—St. James tells us that God gives wisdom to those that seek for it, but not to those distracted seekers whom he likens to the wind-driven waves of the sea. ‘Let not that man think that he shall receive anything from the Lord. A double-minded man is unstable in all his ways.’ That description is curiously just and apposite. We are so many of us who live in the distracted luxury of great cities double-minded, unstable, carried away by every new craze that relieves for a moment the chronic tedium of idle living, unanchored in any truth, unpledged to any cause, unclaimed by any duty. How can the voice, the Divine summons, pierce through this Babel of an unordered life? We have to begin to become serious by giving to the things of the Spirit the importance which belongs to them, by making the Divine claim on our lives the stand-point from which to regard them, by cultivating the opportunities of usefulness which come to us, by refusing to acquiesce in the idle and unordered course of living, by insisting at whatever cost on cleansing our lives from conscious insincerity. Then at least we have come within the sanctuary where oracles of guidance are vouchsafed, where watchfulness and obedience gain outward pledges of Divine leading.

—Rev. Canon Henson.

Illustration

‘In the close resemblance which there is between these words and one of the petitions in the Lord’s prayer, some have thought that they find an evidence that that prayer was already in familiar use in the early Church. Whether or no there be in them this actual and intentional repetition of Christ’s language, there cannot be a doubt that the words are a reflection of His spirit—a spirit that, all life through, was always saying, “Not My will, but Thine be done.” “Father, glorify Thy name.” The thought which the words contain is an exceedingly valuable one—if it be only for this, that it gives a resting-place to the mind. It was exactly thus that it was used by the Christians of Cæsarea. They—together with St. Paul’s immediate companions, including, of course, Luke—had been urging St. Paul, in consequence of Agabus’s prophecy, “not to go up to Jerusalem.” They had done it with an honest feeling and with a good motive, although, as the result showed, with a mistaken judgment. They had done it very earnestly. St. Paul’s higher standard—his truer estimate of life—had impelled him to a passionate negative—“What mean ye to weep and to break mine heart? for I am ready not to be bound only, but also to die at Jerusalem for the name of the Lord Jesus.” And then his friends gave way—“When he would not be persuaded, we ceased.” But mark the line at which they stopped. They do not say, “Paul wishes it; therefore it must be so”—that was the natural thought, the world’s way—but, “The will of the Lord be done.” ’

(SECOND OUTLINE)

THE WILL OF THE LORD

The will of the Lord is divided into the ‘revealed’ and the ‘unrevealed’ will. The revealed will of God lies upon two pages—the page of Scripture and the page of Providence.

I. The revealed will in the Bible.—The Bible, of course, is nothing else but a revelation of the will of God, and everything which occurs in life is an opening of the will of God—for, if it were not after the will of God, it would not have taken place. Therefore whatever is written, and whatever is, is the revealed will of God. The revealed will of God in the Bible is twofold—

(a) The happiness of man, and

(b) The holiness of man

That in both He may be glorified. ‘It is not the will of God that any should perish; but that all should come to the knowledge of the truth.’ ‘Father, I will, that they also, whom Thou hast given Me, be with Me, where I am.’ ‘This is the will of God, even your sanctification!’

II. But God’s revealed will is found also in providence.—I am not speaking now of all providences; but I will keep now to such declarations of God’s will as are in the providence illustrated by my text. There were three trials pressing upon the men of Cæsarea, when they meekly folded their hands, and said, ‘The will of the Lord be done.’

(a) There was defeat—for they were beaten in an argument into which they had evidently thrown all their power: consequently—

(b) There was disappointment—everything went contrary to their hopes and expectations; and

(c) There was grief—the bitter grief of a painful bereavement.

Here are three large classes of human distress!

III. Turn to the unrevealed will.—After all, this was the main thought of the company at Cæsarea. ‘We cannot tell which is right—St. Paul or we. The Lord will show in His own time. What He decides must be best. The will of the Lord be done.’

(a) There is a great deal of perplexity in life—it is a large part of its discipline. ‘What shall I do? What end shall I choose? Which way shall I prefer?’

(b) There is a great deal of mystery in life—it is a very shrouded thing. I cannot see a step. The real and the shadow are so ill defined. It is so vague and dreamy!

(c) There is a great deal of dread in life—dread of the unknown; events are pressing on upon me—I do not quite know of what; but there is such a sense of sin and ill-desert in my mind, that I have an apprehension of some retributive justice. I go out into the future, and it is all very dark!

But, all the while, far above all this—over the perplexity and over the mystery and over the dread—there is reigning the high will of God; and that will is bearing on to its own destined purpose, and it must prevail. And here is faith’s large field—that unrevealed will of God. Unite yourself with it—throw yourself upon it absolutely. Let it bear you where it will; it can only bear you home. ‘The will of the Lord be done.’

Rev. James Vaughan.

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