The Biblical Illustrator
1 Kings 19:7
Arise and eat, because the journey is too great for thee.
The weary child
1. Now, what is all this but the Lord nursing His own child? Elijah has come to one of those crises which occur in every one’s life, when he stands in need of special tending and treatment; and the Father which is in Heaven is giving them. He is giving them none the less truly, that at the stage of our text it is the bodily condition of Elijah with which the Lord is dealing, and nothing higher or further. It was mostly this which was wrong just then, and it is this therefore that the Lord proceeds first of all to put right. But while the text thus speaks to us of the pity of God, and tells us how wide-winged and close-brooding it is, the text also points us to wise methods of dealing with ourselves in like circumstances. The Great Physician may well leave something of our restorations to be wrought by self-treatment when He has indicated the course which that treatment ought to take. Now, the body has its own share, and not a small one, even in our spiritual history. Our dejection and melancholy, our very unbelief, have frequently no higher or more mysterious source than the disturbance of this material machine of nerves and muscles through which the spirit deals with the outer world. For the sake of our souls themselves, therefore, those conditions of body which tell back unhappily upon the spirit ought, where they are preventable or removable, to be prevented or removed. Dejection is no virtue, but a weakness and humiliation.
2. When the Lord was comforting Elijah in that lonely place one day’s journey south of Beersheba, there was being transacted there a living parable of things that lie within the higher sphere of purely spiritual experience. Every Christian of us has his journey before him. Every Christian of us has his weariness not far off within him. Every Christian of us has his Lord’s provision brought to his bolster, with the kindly call, “Arise and eat, because the journey is too great for thee.” The Lord knoweth right well how great it is, and He knoweth well how great our weariness at any time is.
3. You are thinking of seasons of spiritual recruiting more special still than any I have named. One more interval passes, and you are purposing again to sit down together to commemorate the accomplishment, in sacrificial blood, of the most wondrous journey that was ever travelled by human foot in this sorely travelled world. For, to be like us, to understand us and to save us, He would have His mortal journey too; and it was “great,” and often He was weary, and often He was refreshed. With thoughts of that journey filling His own heart, and wishing that they may fill your own, He is summoning you again to sit down with Himself, and to nourish your flagging graces by more touching fellowship with Himself, over the emblems of the love which has made you to be His. (J. A. Kerr Bain, M. A.)
Heart-weariness in the journey of life
1. The first remark which I would make concerning this heart-weariness in the journey of life is that it does not necessarily betoken any estrangement from God. It is, indeed, true that life naturally becomes “flat, stale, and unprofitable” to the sated worldling. But it is also true that moods of depression and despondency come even to the most pious souls, and are sometimes even associated with a sorrow born of sympathy with the mind of God.
2. The second remark which I would make regarding this spiritual fatigue is that it is often due, in large measure, to physical causes. And this fact ought to teach us two lessons. The first is a lesson of sympathetic forbearance. The young ought to make large allowance for the aged, and the strong for the weak. And the second lesson is one of physical prudence. Seeing that the connection between the body and the spirit is so close and subtle, it is our duty to keep our bodies as healthy as we possibly can. The laws of health are the laws of God.
3. We ought to welcome and avail ourselves of those messengers whom God sends to revive and help us in the journey of life. But there are other messengers and ministries--more homely and familiar--which may be even as angels of God to help us when our hearts are worn and weary. Sometimes the words of a well-known hymn, sung in the house of prayer, will cheer our drooping spirits and put new life into our steps. There are also pleasures of literature in general which are not to be despised; many an old man and many an invalid could tell us that their books do much to lighten for them the burden of their infirmities. Music, too, gives its own peculiar refreshment. Science, and poetry, and art, and humour, and the relaxation afforded by simple, innocent pleasures--why should we despise such things as these in their true and proper place? Love is a great freshener of human life. So long as we are really useful and helpful to those whom we love, life cannot altogether lose its zest.
4. I remark that God has miraculously provided for us all a special food for the sustenance and refreshment of our souls. Christ is “the Bread of Life which came down from heaven.” (T. Campbell Finlayson, D. D.)
Juniper trees
In experiences of weariness and discouragement and times of despair, when it seems to us that we are of no use in the world, and are doing nothing in the world, or only blundering and doing harm in the world, there come the juniper tree and the angel; God puts rest-places in our lives; God gives us angels’ food and tells us that in the strength of that food we are to rise up and go on our journey. I want you to look with me for a few moments this morning at some of these restplaces, some of these juniper trees of life.
1. And first I put sleep, because God put it first. When Elijah was tired and despairing and discouraged, God put him to sleep. Sometimes the most religious service a man can render himself or the world is to go to sleep. But how many busy people think really the time spent in sleep is wasted! They begrudge all the time that is spent asleep. But the Lord God so made us that we need to put one-third of our time in sleep. And He knew what He was about. Thanks to God for sleep, that is itself a symbol of death; sleep, that is the promise of a new awakening, and so gives us the suggestion of that great awakening when we shall rise refreshed and invigorated for the eternal day! The father takes the tired child in his arms and rocks him into unconsciousness of all the sin and sorrow and weariness and burden of life. Do not think of it as wasted time! Do not think of it as something lost out of life! Take it as God means we shall--as God’s great gift.
2. Next to sleep I put amusement as one of God’s juniper trees and as a part of God’s angelic food. You remember the three things which the Book of Proverbs says about merriment, which is the lightest form of amusement: first, that a merry heart is a continual feast; second, that a merry heart maketh a glad countenance; and, thirdly, that a merry heart doeth good like a medicine. The merry heart cheers the heart and so makes the face radiant, and, because the face is radiant, therefore the merry soul imparts radiance to others. Merriment, amusement, laughter, just having a good time, is one of God’s juniper trees that He plants for us, and when we are discouraged and distressed He means that we shall take advantage of it.
3. The home is one of God’s juniper trees. We are all conscious, I am sure, that woman’s sphere, whatever that flexible globe may be, is getting bigger and bigger; women are going into all sorts of industrial activities, and giving men pretty hard work by competition; into all sorts of charitable activities, which men are quite ready to leave to the women altogether. Now, on the whole, this is a distinct advance--The larger life of woman is something to be welcomed and to be rejoiced in; and yet, like every increasing growth, it has its perils also. It does sometimes threaten to impair the usefulness of the home. In the Divine order men are the soldiers; the battle of life ought to be done by the men.
4. The Church ought to be a juniper tree and a resting-place. Dr. Parkhurst has said, “The Church is not the minister’s field, but the minister’s force.” The Church ought to be not merely a working Church, but a rest-giving Church also; and when men and women come to the Church, they ought to be able to find there some angels’ food, some real rest, some inspiration that will send them back into life with new vigour for their new toils. The Sabbath chimes ring no sweeter song than this, “Come unto Me, and rest!”
5. And then there is the quiet hour. At Wellesley College, in Massachusetts--a young ladies’ college--there are twenty minutes reserved in every day for a quiet hour. During that twenty minutes every young lady is expected to be in her room; there is to be no passing through the halls; there is to be no life of conversation, no laughter. What the young lady does in her room is between herself, her own conscience, and her God. She may read, she may study, she may pray, she may think, she may do what she likes; only she must not disturb other pupils in other rooms. For twenty minutes a quiet time. We ought to have our quiet hour; at least, we will say, our quiet quarter of an hour. (Lyman Abbott, D. D.)
The journey is too great for thee.--
The journey of life
In regard to the journey of life God says, “It is too great for thee.” It is beyond thy natural powers. Thou needest supernatural strength to enable thee to accomplish it. Men are slow to admit their weakness, especially when they are young and inexperienced. They are full of courage, and they are terrified neither by desert nor by mountain. It is well to begin life in this high spirit. Every young man needs a little of the dare-devil disposition in order to distinguish himself. Courage is a magnificent quality. But men are always chastened by experience. Many an Alpine climber has started up a high mountain with sublime confidence in his skill of foot and in his powers of endurance. But when he reached a certain height his nerve failed. The journey was too great for him. The text has been illustrated by ten thousand men. Livingstone consecrated himself to African exploration. He performed two journeys, but the third was too great for him. His health failed. Two of his servants deserted him, and they took with them his medicine chest. “I never dreamed,” he wrote, “that I should lose my precious quinine.” One of the last entries in his journal was: “I am pale, bloodless, and weak from bleeding profusely ever since the 31st of March last. An artery gives off a copious stream, and takes away my strength; oh how I long to be permitted by the Over Power to finish my work!” When he could work no longer, he was carried on a frame of wood with some grass and a blanket upon it. And when he could endure to be carried no further, his faithful servants built him a little hut, and in that rude structure he died. He was a great traveller. He contributed much to our knowledge of Central Africa. The coloured races owe him a mighty debt of gratitude. He was one of the bravest of Christian men. But the journey of African exploration was too great for him. Arctic exploration, again, has had an intense fascination for navigators, sea rovers, and scientific men. Time would fail us to tell of all the brave men, from Frobisher to Franklin, and from Franklin to Lieutenant Greeley, who have penetrated into the regions of ice. Some have returned to tell the tale of their experience, and others have been frozen to death. But they have not succeeded in reaching the North Pole. The secret still remains to tempt the heroism of the men of the future. For the navigators of all nations the journey of Arctic exploration has been too great. In 1870 the late Napoleon of France declared war against William of Germany. Germany was united, and under the leadership of Protestant Prussia she was destined to change the balance of power in Europe. Napoleon was afraid, and resolved to fight in the hope that he would conquer and retain the leadership of Europe himself. The issue proved, however, that he had sadly miscalculated his strength. In a few weeks he had to lay down his sword at the feet of the German Emperor. The journey of aggressive warfare was too great for him.
1. Take the Christian life. During the last ten years there has been a revival of evangelism. By a variety of methods the ungodly have been reached, and thousands have been brought into the Church. I rejoice in this fact with all my heart. But the Churches have not been strengthened by these accessions as some of us hoped they would be. Popular missions attract the weaker members of the community. These people are feeble in original temperament, and some of them have made themselves utterly weak by the evil habits which they have pursued. The journey of the Christian life is too great for people who pursue such habits as these.
2. Take ministerial life. Here is a minister. He entered the sacred profession while he was yet young. He had a keen sense of responsibility, and he was very susceptible in regard to external discipline; and these two things kept him right for ten or fifteen years. After that he allowed his spiritual life to go down, and then his constitutional weakness began to show itself. An intellectual tendency led him astray. In the end he resigned the ministry. He looked back from the Gospel plough, and since then he has not been fit for the kingdom of God. The journey of ministerial life was too great for him.
3. Take the enthusiast. He is sanguine in regard to everything fresh. If any new form of religious activity is started he is fascinated by it at once. But after a time he loses his interest in it. The journey of an unbroken Christian devotion is too great for the spasmodic enthusiastic.
4. Take the practical Christian life. Individual effort is at a discount. Organised effort is the order of the day. Men have the notion that they can do but little unless they act in a crowd and make a display. Some day there will be a reaction in favour of quiet, instructive, and individual modes of service, and the sooner it comes the better. But we must not wait for ideal conditions in which to do our duty. Men will associate, and we must learn to act in association. We have a multiplicity of organisations, and we must help to work them. The temper of the age is practical, and we must sympathise with it. We must serve Christ In the social ways and habits of the generation. We shall do it at some sacrifice of our views and feelings, but we must bear that for Christ’s sake. (T. Allen.)
God’s considerateness of our frailty
Careless and cruel drivers often load their horses beyond their strength, and the poor creature tugs and pulls until he drops. Daring and foolish engineers will put too much pressure on their boilers, or try to force more power from an engine than it can provide. But our Master guarantees that tasks shall be balanCed with the precise strength we possess. He knoweth our frame: He remembereth that we are but dust. He knows the exact pressure we can stand. He knows the utmost load we can lift. He is a faithful Creator, because an abiding Sustainer. (Helps for Speakers.)