rtf1ansiansicpg1252deff0deflang1033fonttblf0fnilfcharset0 Georgia;f1fnilfprq2fcharset0 Padua; colortbl ;red0green128blue0; viewkind4uc1pardf0fs24 par b Strangership And Pilgrimage.b0 par par cf11ulbf1fs22 Rev_12:6cf0ulnoneb0f0fs24. par par cf11ulbf1fs22 1Pe_2:2cf0ulnoneb0f0fs24. par par cf11ulbf1fs22 Exo_16:1cf0ulnoneb0f0fs24. par par b The woman fled into the wilderness!b0 Well would it have been with her had she continued there. But she came forth into earth's cities, and dwelt in its palaces, and put on its gay apparel, and said, 'I am a queen, and am no widow, and shall see no sorrow.' In unbelief and forgetfulness of her true character, she sought to reign where she should have remained a stranger, and put on purple robes when she should have worn only sackcloth (cf11ulbf1fs22 1Co_4:8cf0ulnoneb0f0fs24). par par 'The earth helped the woman,' no doubt; and in so doing saved her from unceasing persecution, giving her some respite. Christianity became fashionable; and the immense number of mere professors of that faith, while really a source of internal weakness, was yet a source of external strength and protection. It was earthly protection, no doubt, and on that account perilous; yet it was just the protection which God Himself had given to the Jewish Church in Babylon, in Shushan, and in Egypt. The flood of persecution was sweeping the Church away, when 'the earth opened her mouth, and swallowed up the flood which the dragon cast out of his mouth.' This cessation of persecution, this earthly help, became a snare. The woman said, 'I am rich and increased in goods, and have need of nothing.' She forgot her heavenly calling, her future kingdom, her incorruptible inheritance, her unearthly hope, and became part of the world which had helped her. Civilization, science, literature, intellectual enlightenment, became her gods. She set them between her and the cross, between her and the glory. Influence, power, wealth, knowledge apart from God and His Christ, were sought after and obtained. The Church wooed the world, and the world wooed the Church; compromises were agreed upon; the world ceased to persecute, and the Church ceased to 'condemn the world.' par par Yet God is ever calling His own out of this mingled mass, and bidding them walk alone. We are not simply to leave the world, but to 'go forth outside the camp,' bearing Christ's reproach; and oftentimes that reproach comes sharper from the lips of so-called Christians, than from a pleasure-loving world. par par b Abelb0 was a stranger upon earthu8212?so are all God's Abels still. Enoch was a strangeru8212?yet he was partaker of the heavenly calling. Abraham was a strangeru8212?yet he was one of the seekers of the better, even the heavenly country (cf11ulbf1fs22 Heb_11:16cf0ulnoneb0f0fs24), looking for the New Jerusalem, the Church's special home (cf11ulbf1fs22 Heb_11:10cf0ulnoneb0f0fs24). b Davidb0 confesses himself a pilgrimu8212?'We are strangers before You, and sojourners, as were all our fathers' (cf11ulbf1fs22 1Ch_29:15cf0ulnoneb0f0fs24; cf11ulbf1fs22 Psa_39:12cf0ulnoneb0f0fs24). par par 'Leave of your country,' said God to Abraham (cf11ulbf1fs22 Gen_12:1cf0ulnoneb0f0fs24). 'Arise and depart,' were the prophet's words to Israel (cf11ulbf1fs22 Mic_2:10cf0ulnoneb0f0fs24). 'Let us go forth,' said Paul (cf11ulbf1fs22 Heb_13:13cf0ulnoneb0f0fs24). 'Stranger and pilgrim' is descriptive of a believing man (cf11ulbf1fs22 1Pe_2:2cf0ulnoneb0f0fs24). 'In journeyings often,' said Paul of himself (cf11ulbf1fs22 2Co_11:26cf0ulnoneb0f0fs24). Again and again is it said of Israel, 'They took their journey' from such and such places. par par Strangers and pilgrims! Yes! For this world is not our rest or our home! We are wayfaring men, tarrying but a night. We are sojourners, as were all our fathers; and we pass the time of our sojourning here in fear; not looking back, but up and on; with girded loins and staff in hand hastening to the heavenly city. What have we to do with Egypt's treasures, or Babylon's glory; with Corinth's lusts, or Rome's magnificence; with Athenian philosophy, or Ephesian magicu8212?with worldly wantonness or luxury? We see what eye has not seenu8212?we hear what ear has not heardu8212?and we pass by these earthly beauties and pleasures! They perish with the using! The fashion of this world passes away! par par These are memorable words of Paulu8212?'In b journeyingsb0 often.' Such is a brief but true picture of a Christian man's life. Rooted, yet unrooted; settled, yet unsettled; at rest, yet ever moving; anchored, yet hurried along with storms; unburdened, yet burdened; sorrowful, yet always rejoicing. par par Such was the life of b Abrahamb0 and the patriarchs; such the life of b Moses;b0 such the life of Israel in their desert-wanderings. Here have we no continuing cityu8212?not even a continuing tent. No certain dwelling-place; no restu8212?sure of a dwelling somewhere, yet not sure of it anywhere. Patriarchal life was made up of comings and departings, of greetings and farewells. Men were then 'strangers and pilgrims on the earth.' They were like seamen, the greater part of whose time was spent in pulling up and letting go the anchor, in spreading and taking in their sails. Their life was the remotest possible from that of the hermit on the one hand, or the bustling merchant on the other. They seemed hardly to touch the soil over which they passed, or to have any firm connection with the things seen and temporal. par par b Paul'sb0 history was in many respects a repetition of Israel's, and even more a repetition of the b Master's,b0 who was, above all others, 'in journeyings often;' whose ministry was a continual moving to and fro, having no place to lay His head; to whom even Bethany was only a single night's resting-place from which He must depart on the morrow. From the day that the Lord shone upon Paul on his way to Damascus, his life was that of Israel in the desert, only with more of conflict, and weariness, and sorrow, and labor. He had his Ethams, his Succoths, his Marahs, his Elims, his Rephidims, his Kadeshesu8212?with many an intervening resting-placeu8212?certain of nothing but that the pillar-cloud was above him, that his bread would be given him, and his water would be sureu8212?that there was no condemnation for him, and that all things would work together for his good! par par Many and pleasant resting-places had Paul, like his Master at Jacob's well, enjoying shade and provision of which the world knew nothingu8212?but the intervals between were long and wearisome. At Corinth, at Antioch, at Troas, he rested once and again, enjoying sweet fellowship with the brethren; but he had scarcely begun to enjoy this, when he was called away. The pillar-cloud rose, and he was constrained to move. Each movement, each stage, was the encountering of a new storm of the desert, or the endurance of more scorching heat. Gladly would he have remained at such places, in the bosom of churches he had planted; but the Spirit allowed him not, leading him on from place to placeu8212?to bonds and imprisonmentu8212?to labors and stripesu8212?to beating and stoningu8212?to shipwreck and peril by sea and landu8212?to weariness and painfulnessu8212?to hunger and thirstu8212?to fastings and cold, and nakedness. He was a stranger and pilgrim on the earthu8212?through much tribulation entering the kingdom of God (cf11ulbf1fs22 Act_14:22cf0ulnoneb0f0fs24). par par Of Israel we read that 'they came to Elim' (cf11ulbf1fs22 Exo_15:27cf0ulnoneb0f0fs24), where were the wells and palms; and then that they 'took their journey from Elim' (cf11ulbf1fs22 Exo_16:1cf0ulnoneb0f0fs24), into the b wilderness,b0 where there was neither bread nor water. par par They had left Egypt, the land of worldly plenty, where they walked by sight, not by faithu8212?and they had come into a land where sight was nothing, and where faith must be all. The closing waters of the Read Sea, while they cut Israel off from their enemiesu8212?cut them off from the land of plentyu8212?and shut them into one of dearth and desolation. They were now b alone with God!b0 For good or for evil, they had now to deal with Him aloneu8212?and that face to face, in a desert land, where earthly supplies were unknown. If He were against themu8212?who could be for them? If He were for themu8212?who could be against them? par par Their arrival at MARAH tested them. Is their life to be by b faithb0 or by b sight?b0 Is earth or heaven to be their recognized storehouse of blessingu8212?their fountainhead of abundance? This was their first real taste of the true wilderness life and walk. It began with the bitteru8212?and it ended with the sweet. The first taste of the waters was distastefulu8212?the second most pleasant. The bitterness was of earthu8212?the sweetness was of heaven. par par Yet at Marah the comfort was of a mingled kind. It was not their faith that had turned the bitterness into sweetnessu8212?and this was humbling and sad. God had met their murmurings with His own free loveu8212?their distrust of Him with overflowing bountyu8212?and, if we may so say, had answered them according to their unbelief, not their faith. He had, in wondrous grace, reversed His own rule of action, and had done the miracle because of their unbeliefu8212?not their faith! Yet even the outward blessing Marah was not a full one. It sufficed for the moment, but it was incomplete. There was water, but no shade; wells, but no palms. The water had issued from their unbelief, not their faith; and God marked His displeasure by making them drink it on the unshaded burning sands. par par There was little then to bind them to this shadeless spot, saddened with the recollection of their own unbelief, though in a measure sweetened by the gracious dealings of Him whose love passes knowledge. Their journey from Marah would not be an unwilling one, and their arrival at ELIM would be most gratefulu8212?for Elim contained all that such sojourners required. Sweet spot! Close girdled with low hills; the higher peaks of the desert not far off; covered with desert shrubs, tall or stunted; wells bubbling over, and losing themselves in the desert sand; a tiny stream finding its way through the sandy hollow to the Red Sea; and clustering palms (now, in our day quite a forest) stretching their shades over the smiling valley in all directions! par par Israel might sayu8212?Here let us abide. If we are to have a home in the desert, let it be here. They would say, 'This is our rest;' but God said, 'This is not your rest.' So they left the shade and the cool watersu8212?'they journeyed from Elim.' The journey to Elim was pleasant; the stay at Elim was still more so. The journey from Elim must have been sad and drearyu8212?behind them the refreshing verdure; before and around the hot wind of the desert, and with no resting-place in view. But such was the will of Him who was leading them onu8212?such was the silent beckoning of the pillar-cloud. They must not stayu8212?though they would have gladly stayed. It is not to softness, and luxury, and ease that they are called, but to hardness and trialu8212?and a b life of faith on an unseen God and a yet distant 'Canaan'!b0 par par So it is with us. We are 'in journeyings often.' Egypt is left behind foreveru8212?the blood has been sprinkled, and we have found protection and deliverance from the destroying angelu8212?the march has been begunu8212?the Red Sea is crossedu8212?we have sung the song of Mosesu8212?we have entered on the desertu8212?we are pressing toward 'Jerusalem'! Our b desert lifeb0 is the life of discipline, and faith, and hope. We come to Elim, and rest for a few pleasant days beneath its palms. But Elim is not Jerusalem, and we must leave it. Oppressive words these, 'They journeyed from Elim!' And yet, since Elim is not 'Jerusalem', our hope still shines in front of us. It is not on Canaan that we turn our backs; it is not Jerusalem that we are called to leave; for that city once entered, is entered forever. From it we go out no more. par par But here "in the wilderness," we have our changesu8212?our risings and our fallingsu8212?our rejoicings and our sorrowingsu8212?our movings and our restingsu8212?our sickenings and our healingsu8212?our partings and our meetingsu8212?often coming close together, like Marah and Elim in the same desert, and within a day of each other. We are 'in journeyings often!' Ours is a continual tent-lifeu8212?this wilderness world is not our rest! Often we wish it were our rest, we get so tired of these unceasing movementsu8212?but it must not be so. We could not be trusted with ease, and comfort, and painless, prosperous days. We would forget ourselvesu8212?and forget our inheritance. Every change or sorrow says to usu8212?"Onward, upward! Elim is pleasant, with its wells and palms, but it is not Canaanu8212?it is not Jerusalem. It is only a brief resting-place; a rest to recruit and fit you for your further journey. You must leave it on the morrow!" par par Yet the b pillar-cloudb0 is here, for shade, for protection, or guidance. It will not mislead. You shall just have as long at Elim as is for your goodu8212?and not a minute longer! Therefore gird up your loins; be ever in readiness either for resting or journeyingu8212?for the battle, or the march, or the triumph. Let patience have her perfect work; let b faithb0 keep her hold of the unseen; let b hopeb0 burn brighter and fuller as the journeyings are drawing to their closeu8212?and as we near the gates of the glorious cityu8212?and the banks of the river of lifeu8212?and the palms of the paradise of God! par par Be holy. Be separate from the world. Abstain from fleshly lusts. Lay aside all filthiness. Walk soberly. Beware of earth's folly and idle laughter. Set your affection on things above. Be prepared for suffering. Endure hardness. Take up your cross daily and bear it aloftu8212?and be not ashamed of it. The footsteps of the old pilgrims are still visible on the sands of time. Follow them! Their voice is still heard, and their hand still waves, beckoning you to follow. Until you find a nobler faith than Abraham's, a better book than the Bible, a truer creed than Paul'su8212?believe what they believed. For these things are not yet obsolete. Centuries do not alter truth. Time and science have not yet leveled the eternal hills. The cross still stands erect amid the ruins of agesu8212?the blood of Jesus still purges the conscienceu8212?and the believing man is still a stranger here in this world!