The Biblical Illustrator
2 Kings 8:1-6
Then spake Elisha unto the woman.
The potent influence of a good man
I. His counsel is valuable, and gratefully acted upon. Here we see how the kindness shown by the Shunammite receives still further reward. There is nothing so fruitful in blessing as kindness. In the great dilemmas of life we seek counsel, not from the frivolous and wicked, but from the wise and good. A good man has the destiny of many lives in his hands; a word from him has great weight.
II. His beneficent acts are the theme of popular conversation (2 Kings 8:4). A good action cannot be hid. Sooner or later it will emerge from the obscurity in which it was first done, and become the talk of a nation, until it reaches even royal ears. All good actions do not attain such distinguished popularity. There were many good things that Elisha said and did of which history takes no notice. A good act may be remembered and applauded for generations, while the name of the actor is unknown.
III. His holy and unselfish life is a testimony for Jehovah in the midst of national apostasy. In the darkest night of national apostasy, Israel was favoured with an Elisha, whose divinely-illumined life threw a bright stream of light across the gloom. How deplorable the condition of that nation from which all moral worth is excluded!
IV. His reputation is the means of promoting the ends of justice (2 Kings 8:5). There was surely a Divine providence at work that brought the suppliant Shunammite into the presence of the king at the very moment when Gehazi was rehearsing the great works of Elisha. Justice triumphed; her land and all its produce for the seven years were restored to her. It requires power to enforce the claims of justice, and the highest -kind of power is goodness. The arrangements of justice are more likely to be permanent when brought about by the influence of righteous principles, than when compelled by physical force. The presence of a holy character in society is a powerful check upon injustice and wrong. (G. Barlow.)
Beneficence of the Christian life
The other summer, says Dr. Abbott, while sailing along the shores of the Sound, I landed at a little cove; there was a lighthouse tower and a fog-bell, and the keeper showed us the fog-bell, and how the mechanism made it strike every few minutes in the darkness and in the night when the fog hung over the coast; and I said, “That is the preacher; there he stands, ringing out the message of warning, ringing out the message of instruction, ringing out the message of cheer; it is a great thing to be a preacher.” We went up into the lighthouse tower. Here was a tower that never said anything and never did anything--it just stood still and shone--and I said, “That is the Christian. He may not have any word to utter, he may not be a prophet, he may not be a worker, he may achieve nothing, but he stands still and shines, in the darkness and in the storm, always, and every night.” The fog-bell strikes only on occasion, but all the time and every night the light flashes out from the lighthouse; all the time and every night this light is flashing out from you if you are God’s children.
Permanent effects of godliness
Sir Wilfred Laurier has recently given a very striking testimony to the powerful influence of the Puritan spirit. He was asked why he was absolutely, in the best sense of the word, an Imperialist. Sir Wilfred replied that when he was a boy he was brought up in the home of a God-fearing Scottish farmer, at whose family worship he was present every morning and night. He was struck by the catholicity of spirit of the farmer, but still more by the fact that the farmer took the affairs of his house, his neighbourhood, and all his country in the presence of the Almighty, and sought His blessing upon all. This experience implanted in Sir Wilfred’s heart an abiding conviction that an empire based on such community of spirit was made by God to lead the world. Here is the influence of a humble family worship determining the destinies of an empire. The lowly farmer in Scotland little realised how far-reaching the ministry of his family altar would be. Little did he know that while he was praying and worshipping in apparent obscurity he was moulding the thoughts and feelings of a great statesman, and so shaping the policy of states. What a dignity this gives to the home altar, and what solemnity surrounds the lowly acts of family worship! It can be said of these humble ministries that “their lines are gone out through all the earth, and their words to the end of the world.” (Hartley Aspen.)