By J.R. Miller
No lesson was taught by our Lord more impressively, than that we are responsible for making and doing the most and the best with our gifts and opportunities. The crowning is not for great deeds--but for faithfulness. The penalty for non-uses of life's talents--is the losing of them.
There is an old time curse that has a suggestive lesson for all time. There had been a great battle. A country's very life was in the outcome. When the call for men went forth, and patriots from all over the land heeded the call--one hamlet did not respond. Then in the song of victory that was sung after the battle, when the valiant deeds of this and that clan had been recounted, there came this fierce strain, "Curse Meroz," says the Angel of the Lord, "Bitterly curse her inhabitants, for they did not come to help the Lord, to help the Lord against the mighty warriors." Judges 5:23
What was the reason for this curse? What had the inhabitants of Meroz done? They had not joined with the enemies of the country. They had not taken up arms against their brethren. They had not harbored the foe within the gates. They had only not come to the battle--when the call rang in their ears.
Men search now in vain for the site of Meroz. It is not marked on any map. The very memory of the place has perished. This single bitter strain in the old song of victory, is the one mention of it in any book. The word stands only as the symbol of a curse for not doing one's duty. It represents the man who, when other men are loyal, remains neutral; when others are in the midst of battle, braving danger, receiving wounds, is found hiding at home, taking no part in the struggle. Meroz stands for the man who shirks his duty, who saves his own life when the call is for sacrifice, who abides at ease when he ought to be at the forefront of the field.
The story is old--but the lesson is always timely. Every good cause is the cause of God. Christ's kingdom comes not only in the personal sanctification of His followers, as they yield heart and life to His sway; it comes also in every struggle between right and wrong, between purity and corruption, in every movement for reform, in every holy sentiment.
The battle is going on forever in this world; and the trumpet is evermore sounding, calling men to the help of the Lord against the mighty. It is not enough not to be against the right and the good; God wants us to come to His help in every contest. Not to act for God--is to act against Him. "He who is not with Me," said the Master, "is against Me."
Many of the gravest and most serious sins of men--are sins of not doing. No wickedness is charged against Meroz. The people were cursed, because they did nothing. It was a sin of omission. There are other illustrations. The priest and the Levite did not do any injury to the wounded man in Luke 10. They did not rob him, did not smite him, and did not say abusive or unkind words to him. Yet everyone who reads the story feels at once that they did this man grievous wrong, sinned most sorely against him. They did it by not rendering to him loves' offices, by passing him by, and leaving him unhelped in his bitter need. They came not to the help of the Lord, in this sufferer's behalf.
In our Lord's picture of the last judgment, too, those who are set on the left hand are condemned, not for evil wrought by them, not for wicked deeds they had done--but because they did not come to the help of the Lord in feeding the hungry, giving drink to the thirsty, providing for the needy, visiting the sick. They are condemned for not doing.
We need to think carefully of our own lives in the light of this teaching. It is not enough that we are honest, truthful, upright, diligent in business and faithful in our religious duties; are we doing or are we neglecting the duties of love which wait for us at every turn? We are to be judged by the things we leave undone--quite as much as by the things we do which we ought not to have done. Many people imagine that they are very good because they have not done certain openly wicked things; but one may be able to hold up his hands, and say, "My hands are unstained by any guilt." And yet the heaviest curse may hang over him, because he has not done the things he ought to have done. The word sin means missing the mark; whenever we fail to come up to the full measure of love's duty--we have sinned.
It may have been cowardice which kept the inhabitants of Meroz from coming to the help of the Lord that day; for the enemies who were to be met had chariots of iron, and were fierce and cruel. At least, there is no doubt that the cause of the inactivity of many men in the Lord's work in these days--is moral cowardice. They have not the courage to confess themselves Christians. They are afraid to be singular. They are not brave enough to take a side on the great moral questions. So they hide away, and skulk back in their tents--when they ought to be in the field, fighting the Lord's battles! Many more people than we care to confess are useless to Christ--because of their moral cowardice.
Or these men of Meroz, many have thought they were so few in number, that they could be of but little use, and that it was not worth while for them to go up to the battle. Many Christian people are rendered useless through the same false sentiment. They have no gifts, they say, and cannot do anything; so they stay in the background, and come not to the help of the Lord. They forget that nothing is small--which it is our duty to do; that failure in a little duty may bring wreck to some great plan of God, which needs our small part to fulfill it.
Littleness is no evidence that a duty is unimportant; or that we may omit the doing of it, without hurt to the work entrusted to us. We should do the little things--just as faithfully and conscientiously as the great things.
Israel won the battle that day without the men of Meroz--but it might easily have happened that the absence of a few men from the ranks had caused defeat. There are times when the failure of one person to do his duty in his place--will bring disaster to the cause.
A young girl found herself the only Christian in a school of a hundred. Her first thought was that no good could come from her confessing her Master amid such overpowering worldly antagonism. One little candle could give no light worth while in all that darkness. But her second thought was that she dare not fail to confess Christ. "I am the only one He has here," she said; "and I must confess Him." No one can tell what a loss it would have been to the cause of Christ in that school--if she had not come to His help.
However small the influence of any Christian may be, or however little he can do--the Master needs him and his little piece of work well done, and something will go wrong if he fails to do his duty. The humblest of us dare not ever fail; for God needs us and our gift, however small it may be, and our not coming to His help will make disaster to some cause or to some other life.
Or even if it should make no difference to the cause of Christ whether we do our part or not, it makes infinite difference to ourselves. The consequence of the one talented man's failure to use his talent--was that he lost it. The penalty of uselessness always is the loss of power to be useful. We cannot neglect the most insignificant duty--without harm to our own spiritual life and hurt to our character. The battle was won without Meroz--but Meroz never got back what it lost that day.
Or it may have been self-indulgence that kept the inhabitants of Meroz away from the battle. They had their own little affairs to attend to--their vineyards, their gardens, their fields. They were comfortable in their pleasant homes among the hills. Of course the were interested in the saving of their country; but, as almost everybody was hurrying to the field--victory was certain without their help. So they self-indulgently kept out of the conflict, and stayed quietly at home. They seemed to be saving their lives, sparing themselves much cost and sacrifice. Yet--but when it was all over, and the victory had been won, a curse rang out against them--because they had not come to the help of the Lord. This was the result of their self-saving.
No doubt, if the thoughts of men's hearts were read, it would appear that much of the uselessness of people's lives--can be traced to self-indulgence, unwillingness to make self-denials and sacrifices for the sake of Christ's kingdom. The centering of thought and effort on ourselves, is always a fatal error in a life, and draws a curse with it. He who saves his life--loses it.
Yet it is easy to allow the self-indulgent spirit to creep into one's life. Others need us; but we are busy with our own affairs, and are not wiling to put ourselves out to serve them. To do what is required of us--we would have to miss some pleasant engagement--a dinner or a party, or give up our own comfort and ease for a day or for an evening. There is a brief struggle, and then we decide that we cannot turn aside to give the help. That is, we come not to the help of the Lord. We have saved our life. We are spared the discomfort of the self-denial. Our hands are not soiled with the rough work. We have our money still in our pocket. But as we go back to our self-seeking pursuit--we hear the echo of a curse "Because they came not to the help of the Lord."
Even in our Christian life, the danger of self-seeking is imminent. It is not enough that we find Christ for ourselves. If we rest satisfied with this, and sit down to the enjoyment of the blessings and privileges of friendship with Christ, giving no thought to the saving and helping of others--we are guilty of the worst selfishness. Only once did Jesus hang upon the cross, giving His life for the world; but He would have His followers repeat and continue the spirit of that sacrifice evermore in the eyes of men. It is not enough to hold up the Cross in our preaching, in our hymns and prayers, in the Lord's Supper. We must have the Cross in our own life! We must live the life of self-sacrificing love--of which the Cross is the symbol.
The application of the lesson must rest with each one's own conscience. The curse is not against the enemies of Christ--but against those who call themselves His friends, and who come not to His help against the mighty. It is the curse--not of enmity and opposition--but of inactivity; the curse of hiding away at ease--when the Lord's cause needs all one's energy; the curse, not of fighting against the Lord; but of not fighting with Him. The impulse of the lesson should bring us out of our hiding places of cowardice, of indolence, of self-indulgence, to declare ourselves unequivocally on the Lord's side, and to stand forth boldly among His friends. This is no time for unconfessed discipleship. Cowardice is treason to the King. We should gather close about our Master with holy devotion, and cleave to Him with unalterable fidelity. To shirk our duty now--is to miss the crown at the end.
