By J.R. Miller
In the true life, beauty is as important as strength. Strength at its best is always beautiful--but sometimes loveliness is sacrificed to vigor. In these days, we hear much about the strenuous life--but the phrase has in it a suggestion of abundant vitality, of an unwearied energy, which may lack the enrichment and refinement which are the ripe fruit of true self culture. At least, the emphasis is put upon the strenuousness, as if that were the dominant quality of the life.
On every hand, and enforced by the holiest sanctions, we are urged to make the most of our life and our opportunities. Again and again, we hear in the Bible the ringing exhortation, "Be strong." More than one of our Lord's parables teaches our responsibility for the development of every power of our being to its fullest possibilities, and the using of every particle of energy in our nature in worthy service. One who does not do one's best, fails. Paul, himself a magnificent type of the utmost strenuousness in living, calls for the most vigorous Christian life in the followers of the Master. He exhorts a young man to stir up the gift that is in him, probably seeing plainly that his friend was not doing his best, making the most of his life. He uses the figure of the runner in the race, bending every energy to reach the goal and win the prize, to incite every Christian to the most eager stretching toward the highest possibilities in spiritual attainment. He employs the illustration of the soldier as the type of true manhood, and bids his friends be courageous like men, and to be good soldiers of Jesus Christ. If we would realize the scriptural thought of the worthiest life, we must call out all the latent power that is in us, and develop it to its highest degree of vitality.
The lesson is strongly emphasized in the spirit of the days in which we are living. Every man is now called to do his best. No patience is exercised toward one who takes life easily. The man who works leisurely, is left behind in the race. Literature is full of homilies on "success" and how to attain it. The men who are held up as examples to youth, are those who began with nothing and by their own energy have risen to wealth or power. Strenuousness is everywhere praised.
But not so universally nor so urgently is the duty of self culture taught. Yet the lesson is equally important. There are many people who are giants in strength--but are lacking in the qualities of refinement which belong to the truest character. Strength is sometimes crude. Too often it is ungentle and thoughtless. It is aggressive and resistless--but stops not to look what fair flowers it is trampling under its feet.
It is well that we pause, therefore, in the pressure under which we are striving, to give thought to self culture. The beginning of it lies in self mastery. There are many men who have prodigious strength, and yet never have achieved self control. We are truly strong, not merely when we have great forces of energy--but when we can command these forces at will. "He who rules his own spirit--is greater than he who takes a city."
There is much of bad temper even among Christian people. Many are quick to speak, flying into a passion at the slightest provocation. They are overly sensitive, even to the point of touchiness. They have capacity for strenuous life--but they are weak, driven by every wind and tossed, because their bark is without a helm. Under momentary impulses, they do rash and foolish things which grieve their friends and do irreparable harm to their own life.
Few faults mar the beauty and the influence of a life, more than the habit of ill temper. One writes: "Losing the temper takes all the sweet, pure feeling out of life. You may get up in the morning with a clean heart, full of song, and start out as happy as a bird; and the moment you are crossed and you give way to your temper, the clean feeling vanishes and a load as heavy as lead is rolled upon your heart, and you go through the rest of the day feeling like a culprit, unless you promptly confess your fault and seek forgiveness of God and man."
We all admire a self controlled person, one who is not irritated by irritating experiences, who is not disturbed in his equanimity by confusing or annoying circumstances, who is not vexed nor fretted by life's trials. This power of self control is a higher mark of royalty, than crown or scepter. Self culture includes self mastery. It holds the reins of the life and restrains every crude impulse, every wayward desire. It sits on the throne, and every feeling, every passion, every energy, every emotion, is ruled by it.
The thought of culture always implies also refinement, grace of spirit, beauty of soul. That is, it is gentle as well as strong. It is more than knowledge, for one may know all the worlds' literature and yet lack this culture. In the ordinary sense, it is the final result of true education and study. One may be very learned, and yet lack the refinement of spirit which the thought of culture suggests. Self culture is defined as what a man does upon himself; mending his defects, correcting his mistakes, chastening his faults, tempering his passions.
Always, love must be the ruling element in Christian culture. Fine manners may be the result of the study of the rules of etiquette--but no manners are really beautiful, which are not the fruit of love in the heart. Gentleness belongs to culture, and gentleness is love in exercise. The word "gentleman" as a designation of one who has reached the finest things in manliness, is very suggestive. No man, however masterly his strength, however wide his knowledge, however high his rank, however splendid his achievements, is manly in the fullest sense--if he is not gentle--a gentleman.
In a summary of the things which make up a worthy Christian character, Paul puts first, whatever things are true, honorable, just and pure, and whatever things are lovely and of good report. The sterner qualities alone do not make the character complete, while loveliness is lacking. The word "grace" which is used to describe the divine favor and is applied to all spiritual work wrought in a life, means primarily that which is pleasing and agreeable, beauty of form, manner, or movement. As applied to the disposition, it means sweetness, amiability, courtesy. To grow in grace is not only to become more devout, obedient, and holy--but also to grow more loving--more gentle, kindly, thoughtful, patient, unselfish.
It is evident, therefore, that we should pay heed to the culture of our spirit, as well as to the development of our energies. Success which takes account only of one's worldly life and its affairs, and does not also consider one's attainments in character, in heart qualities, in the spiritual elements of one's being, will not stand the test of life's most serious ordeals. It is possible to be growing in the elements which make for power among men and increasing in activities which do good in a community, and yet not to be advancing in grace and beauty of life. Heart culture is essential. It is not in what we have or what we do--but in what we are--that the true measure of our character must be taken. We are growing only when our mind is becoming more open to the truth, when the peace of God is possessing us more and more fully, and when we are giving our life more and more unreservedly and sweetly to the service of others, in Christ's name.
It need not be said, that all spiritual work in us is wrought by the divine Spirit. Yet we are in danger of missing the real meaning of this truth by putting God far from us instead of understanding that He is with us continually, closer than the closest human friend. We never can by any mere self discipline, achieve in ourselves the beauty we yearn for, nor attain the gentleness, the peace, the grace which belong to true spiritual culture; but God is ready to work in us and with us if we will admit Him to our life, and then our striving to grow into loveliness, will not be in vain.
No influence works upon life so deeply, so thoroughly, with such power for the cleansing and enriching of the nature--as personal friendship with Christ. If we live with Him in close daily companionship, walking with Him, talking with Him, dwelling in the very atmosphere of His presence continually, our rudeness will be imperceptibly transformed into spiritual refinement, and our earthliness into heavenliness.
One tells of buying a common clay jar for a few cents, and then filling it with some rare and costly perfume. At length the jar became saturated in all its substance with the rich fragrance. So it is with the commonest life, when it is filled with Christ. The sweetness of His love an the holiness of His Spirit permeate it, until disposition, thought, feeling, and affection--become like Christ indeed.
