CRITICAL AND EXEGETICAL NOTES
1 Peter 5:5. Be clothed.—Lit. “gird yourselves.” Perhaps the word refers to the frock, or apron, distinctive of slaves. Strictly, the Greek word means, “tie yourselves up in humility.” ἐγκομβώσασθε, from κόμβος, a top-knot, as a cock’s comb, or bow-knot, or ornamental fastening by which vestments are drawn about the wearer. Make humility your outermost, conspicuous dress, that which covers all the rest, or binds all into one. (There was a peculiar kind of cape, well known by a name taken from this verb—we might call it a “tie-up”—and this kind of cape was worn by slaves, and by no others. It was, in fact, a badge of servitude.)
1 Peter 5:6. Humble yourselves.—Especially with a view to the quiet bearing of the afflictions and distresses you may be called to endure.
MAIN HOMILETICS OF THE PARAGRAPH.— 1 Peter 5:5-7
Humility in Church Relations.—It is but natural that the apostle, in giving his advice to the Church, in view of its circumstances of disability, temptation, and peril, should first address the “elders” or officials, and then address the members of the Church, dividing them into the “younger ones” and the “rest.”
I. Humility in the younger takes form as submission.—“Likewise, ye younger, be subject unto the elder.” The very energy of activity and enterprise, that should be characteristic of young people, may make them unduly confident, and over-masterful. Young people will seldom take any advice from the older ones. But the Christian spirit should have its influence on this characteristic weakness, and make the young members humbly submit themselves to superior wisdom and experience. Humility in Church life, possessing both the younger and the elder, would enable the energetic younger to inspire the slow and sluggish elder; and the careful and experienced elder to tone and temper the impulsive younger.
II. Humility in the elder takes form as service.—“Yea, all of you gird yourselves with humility, to serve one another.” When St. Paul would plead for Christian humility, he presents the example of Christ, saying, “Let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus”; and when we follow his illustration we see that it was a mind of humility which showed itself in service—sacrificing service. If, without asserting himself, or getting for himself, each member is supremely anxious to find opportunities for serving the others, there need be no fear whatever of the Church relations being pleasantly sustained. And St. Peter, perhaps, had especially in mind the way in which such humble and self-forgetting mutual service would help the Churches in the time of difficulty and strain, which might involve serious loss and persecution for particular members. The times provided plentiful occasions for fulfilling the injunction, “By love serve one another.”
III. Humility in all the members of the Church towards God.—This is the humility—basal humility—on which must rest all humility in the various relations of the Church. A man will never be humble-minded in his relations with his fellow-man unless he is, and keeps, humble-minded towards God. And this is the right attitude to take before God. “Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God, that He may exalt you in due time.” But is this to be taken as vague and general, or as precise and particular? If the latter, then St. Peter means, by the “mighty hand of God,” just those circumstances of distress and peril in which the Christians were then placed, which, from one point of view, were the schemes of enemies, but from a higher point of view were the permissions, and overrulings, and discipline, of God—the “mighty hand of God”—to which they should respond in the humbling of a cheerfully gracious submission and endurance. Taken in this light, we see at once how the sentence, “casting all your care (anxiety) upon Him,” is a very tender and pathetic re-statement of the earlier sentence: “humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God.” It is the best sign of a true humility before God that we do not try to keep our own care, as if we felt that we could, but are fully willing, in a child-spirit, to let our Father care, being quite sure that He does care. The humility of the child before God will be sure to nourish the humility of the brother, which will find fitting expression in all the relations with the brothers. “It would be a sad calamity for Christians under persecution, suddenly to find God Himself in array on the enemy’s side; and this they would find if they went against discipline.” “The humility here recommended is not merely a submissive bearing of the strokes which it pleased God to let fall upon them, but it was to be shown in their bearing towards one another.”
SUGGESTIVE NOTES AND SERMON SKETCHES
1 Peter 5:5-7. Service Free from Care.—Single sentences taken out of Bible passages may oftentimes suggest very beautiful and very helpful meditations and sentiments; but he would be a very limp and weak Christian, having no strengthening principles, and no strong grip of steadying truths, who should persist in living entirely on single texts. The familiar words, “Casting all your care upon Him, for He careth for you,” have made solacing music for our souls in many of the anxious times of life. We love them, as we love the friends who have put their hands gently into ours when we entered, and went through, the dark valleys of our life’s sorrows. And yet the passage into which those words are fitted lights up the familiar sentence with new meaning, and gives it a fresh, and more practical bearing on that Christian life which we are pledged to live. We may be quite sure that St. Peter dwelt much in thought upon the brief time of his fellowship with the “Man, Christ Jesus,” in whom he discerned the “Son of God.” And two scenes especially must have come up before him with great frequency. He would often see the high priest’s palace; recall again his shameful denials of his Lord; and feel afresh the “look” that melted him into penitence. But he must have tried to shut out that scene: to dwell on it too much was to bring undue depressions upon his spirit. He would turn to another scene; he would free his thoughts from weak and sinful self, and try to fix them upon Jesus. St. Peter would love to go over again and again the scene in the upper chamber before the Lord’s last Passover—though it also had its smaller humiliations for him. He would see again the surpassing dignity of his Divine Lord, as He rose from supper, laid aside His garments, took a towel, and girded Himself, as if He were but the servant of the house; poured water into the basin, and began to wash the disciples’ feet, and to wipe them with the towel wherewith He was girded. Could St. Peter ever forget the look that was on the face of his Lord when He had taken His garments, and was seated again. Could He ever lose out of his soul the words that were then spoken by Him “who spake as never man spake”? They thrill us now as we read them. How they must have thrilled him who heard them fresh from the sacred Lips! “Know ye what I have done to you? Ye call Me Master and Lord: and ye say well; for so I am. If I, then, he Lord and the Master, have washed your feet, ye ought also to wash one another’s feet. For I have given you an example, that ye also should do as I have done to you.” The scene was evidently in St. Peter’s mind, and the words were evidently in his memory, when he wrote the passage which is before us as a text. He has been, in the previous verses, giving particular counsels, precisely adapted to the “elder” and to the “younger” members of the Church. And then he thinks of something that needs to be pressed upon the attention of every one. It is the example of their Divine Lord, and his, on that solemn supper night. “Yea, all of you gird yourselves with humility, to serve one another; for God resisteth the proud, but giveth grace to the humble. Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God, that He may exalt you in due time; casting all your anxiety upon Him, because He careth for you.” Remembering that St. Peter wrote his letter to Jewish Christians scattered abroad, who were called to endure much and varied persecution on account of their faith in Christ, the point of His counsel at once appears. Such persecution was but Divine discipline. They would lose all the blessing of it if they resisted, repined, and let it make them feel hard and unloving. Better, far better, humble themselves under God’s mighty hand; submit to His providential dealings; see how the afflictions and persecutions affected them all alike, rich and poor, and were designed to draw them into a nearer and more helpful brotherhood. One thing they could do, and it would bring them the best cheer in their time of trouble; forgetting their own dignities, they could “gird themselves with humility,” and by love “serve one another.” They could fill up their lives with the joy of Christlike service; and as for the care’s, and anxieties, which persecutions might bring, or even this loving service of others might bring, they could cast all such cares on God, in the absolute confidence that He was caring for them. We may get St. Peter’s counsel duly impressed upon our hearts, and with fitting applications to our own precise circumstances, if we consider
(1) that the service of one another demands humility;
(2) that the service of one another at once relieves from cares, and brings cares;
(3) and that the cares which service brings, God bears with us.
I. The service of one another demands humility.—Our Lord’s symbolic teachings in the upper room were called forth by the failure of His disciples to serve one another. Not one of them was willing to do the lowly, kindly service of washing the feet of the others. And their failure was due to their lack of humility. They were all self-interested; each had an exaggerated estimate of his own importance. In their self-consciousness and pride they had even been disputing as to which had the claim to the most honourable offices in the kingdom which they expected to see so soon established. Each one thought he was a proper person to be served, and as long as each one thought so, he was not likely to demean himself to serve—certainly not in such lowly ways as washing feet. We can never serve one another while we keep up undue estimates of our own importance. The man who has to take care of his own dignity will never take care of anybody else’s well-being. He is over-occupied. For those first disciples the object-lesson given them was a severe and searching one. The Master Himself, whose dignity was unquestionable, took a towel, and girded Himself, as if He were a servant, and cheerfully did a servant’s work. He showed them that the humility which can serve is a distinguishing mark of true greatness, and is perfectly in harmony with the highest offices. Had He thought of what was due to Him, He never would have served humanity at the cost of self-sacrifice. Because He could humble Himself to serve humanity, therefore God hath highly exalted Him, and given Him a name which is above every name. The idea—essential idea—of Christian discipleship is “service,” because another essential idea of it is “humility.” St. Augustine was right when he answered the question, “What is the chief grace of Christianity?” by saying at once “Humility.” Humility is the most striking thing in a man’s conversion. He is self-humbled in the conviction of sin; and he is self-humbled in being obliged to accept salvation as a gift of grace. And that humility is the rootage of the new regenerate character. As the new life unfolds, it will soon be evident how it brings a man into tender, sympathetic relations with his fellow-men, and inspires him to watch for and meet all opportunities of service. But let the new regenerate life fail to grow; let the old “self” come back, nourishing the old pride, and inevitably the interest in others declines, and a life of service begins to look mean and humiliating. “Gird yourselves with humility,” and keep yourselves girded, and you will want to “serve one another.” Undo that girdle, put it away from you, and then other people may wash disciples’ feet—you won’t. So far from helping disciples to serve one another, you will expect the disciples to serve you. It is a thing to set ever freshly before us, that we must be striving to gain this mind of Christ—the humility that loves to serve. St. Peter speaks of humility, in a figurative way, as a garment to be put on. The word here rendered “be clothed” is a very expressive one, being derived from κόμβος, a string, or band, with which a garment is fastened to the person; so that humility is to be put on as an outer dress, to ornament the wearer; and to be kept on (because tied in knots), and not merely to be worn on certain occasions.” There is a secret in Christian humility. It is the attitude of a man among men who has humbled himself before God—humbled himself “under the mighty hand of God.”
II. The service of one another at once relieves us from cares and brings to us cares.—It relieves us from the cares which come to us out of difficult and distressing circumstances. Many a Christian man has felt overwhelmed; every door has seemed shut up, every sphere over-weighted; every attempt results in failure, every prospect looks dark. Moved by the comforting Spirit, he just leaves it all, and goes out to serve somebody, to find some soul more sorely stricken than he is, and to cheer such a soul with the consolations of God. That man, in the service of another, finds his own cares relieved. What he has been saying, in his efforts to serve, has come right home to his own heart, and he returns upon his own cares, and they do not seem quite so heavy and so dark. He can almost be sure that there is a little break in the sky that is ushering in the dawn of a brighter day for him. What a cheer for his own sorrows St. Paul must have gained when he tried to serve the sorrowing Corinthians! He speaks of the “Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforteth us in all our affliction, that we may be able to comfort them that are in any affliction, through the comfort wherewith we ourselves are comforted of God.” Many a Christian has been overwhelmed with doubts; has found himself questioning this and that, until the very foundations of truth seem to have given way, and he has not even a corner-stone left on which to rest a hope. He is a wise friend to the doubter who takes him away from study, and books, and thoughts; refuses to argue anything with him, but leads him out to the widowed, the fatherless, the sick, the lost, whom he may serve. The cares of doubt will soon be relieved, and charity will bring back faith. And there is a sense in which the cares of the spiritual life may be relieved by the humble serving of others. If we make attention to spiritual life too exclusive, we are sure to become morbid, full of moods, dependent on feelings, and insincere in reading our own experiences. It is the best relief to go and undertake some Christian work. Give up brooding over varying feelings, and go out and undertake some service of righteousness and charity. Never mind about spiritual emotions; they will take care of themselves. Become intensely anxious about good works; this good work, “by love serving one another.” Many a young Christian has begun to keep a diary of his feelings, and kept on with it until he discovered that it was making him morbid and miserable; and then he flung the diary away for ever, let God take care of his feelings, and spent himself in active service—girded himself, and set himself to do the Christly work of “serving others.” But it is also true that the service of others brings cares. It brings their cares upon us whom we serve, for all true service rests upon sympathy, upon fellow-feeling; and it means that we take the cares of others upon our own hearts and hands. But this is the holiest and most Christlike form that human care can take; and with absolute assurance of help, for us and for them, we may cast these cares of others upon God. But if we devote ourselves, in a generous spirit of self denial, to the helping of others, we shall also find the service brings cares concerning ourselves. Oftentimes they will be cares taking form as temptations. It may be suggested to us that our lowly deads may affect our reputations; our readiness to serve others may seem to prevent our getting on in life, and may even make earthly prosperity impossible. We may hear men saying of us, He is always looking after other people, but he never seems to look after himself. It is true that no man ever yet made himself poor by what he gave away for Christ’s sake, and no man ever yet ruined his life-prospects by unselfish devotion to the service of others. A man may miss what he imagined for himself, or what others have hoped for him. That is very possible. But God stands by every Christly man; takes his care upon Himself, and sees that the man gains the “best of both worlds,” just the best of both worlds for him. Does such care come pressing on any of you? Have you almost become convinced that a life of service cannot be a life of worldly success? Cast that care on God. I know how He will comfort you. He will say in your soul, “A life of service is a life of success.” To serve is heaven. To serve is angelic. To serve is Christly. To serve is Divine. And to be heavenly, Christly, angelic, and close kin with God, is success.
III. The cares which service brings, God bears with us.—“For He careth for you.” We dwell frequently on the delightful thought that God is concerned about us, and that His loving interest wraps us round, keeps us safe, and holds us up. But we do not so often see the limitation of the assurance. God careth for you, precisely you who are girding yourselves to serve one another, and find that various cares come to you as you render the service. God careth for you, who have characters which find revealing expression in service. God is interested in you, and in yours, in your circumstances, but only in them for the sake of you. God cares for character. Do not in the least fear. God will take care of that. God will nourish that. God will reward that. Faithfully live out the Christian life, as a life of humility that loves to serve. Faithfully live it out, whatever it may seem to cost you, whatever loss it may seem to involve. Man may misread your life. He is very likely to do so. You may misread it yourselves. You are even more likely to so. But God makes no mistakes, and never misunderstands. He sees some doing service—washing disciples’ feet—in a spirit of ostentation, and He turns away from the unlovely sight. He knows whether His servants are girded with humility for their service. He estimates the cares that come upon them, He cares for them. And His care has in it a purpose of infinite love. The care shines in the smile that cheers the workers. The care reaches down “everlasting arms” to uphold the workers. The care bids the angels keep ready the “many mansions,” the resting places, until the day when those who have served others shall themselves be served. He shall bid them sit down to meat, and come forth Himself and serve them. Ministers, serving one another; casting all self cares on God, while we do His work, quite sure that He careth for us;—this many of us may have to win; this many of us may have to keep. “Gird yourselves with humility, to serve one another.” And of this be quite sure, “He careth for you.”
1 Peter 5:5. Humility.—This was not a new word when the New Testament was written. It, or its Greek equivalent, was very common, but used only contemptuously and rebukingly. It always meant meanness of spirit. To be humble was to be a coward. It described a cringing soul. It was a word for slaves. Where could we find a more striking instance of the change that the Christian religion brought into the world than in the way in which it took this disgraceful word, and made it honourable? To be humble is to have a low estimation of one’s self. That was considered shameful in the olden time. You insulted a man if you called him humble. It seemed to be inconsistent with that self-respect which is necessary to any good activity. Christ came, and made the despised quality the crowning grace of the culture that He inaugurated. The disgraceful word became the key-note of His fullest gospel. He redeemed the quality and straightway the name became honourable. What was the change that Christianity accomplished, and how did it come about? Humility means a low estimate or value of one’s self. But all values are relative. The estimate we set on anything depends on the standard with which we compare it. And so values are always varying as the standard or the object with which you compare the thing that you are valuing changes. Christianity’s great primary revelation was God. Much about Him it showed men, but first of all it showed them Him. He stood beside man’s work. And God in the world must be the standard of the world. Greatness meant something different when men had seen how great He was; and the manhood which had compared itself with lesser men, and grown proud, now had a chance to match itself with God, and to see how small it was, and to grow humble about itself. It is wonderful how the smallest man can keep his self-complacency in the presence of the largest But let that small man become a Christian; that means, let the narrow walls of his life be broken down, and let him see God, present here by Christ. At once, then, all is changed. It would be a fearful thing if the only thing that Christ showed us of God were His greatness. The pure humiliation would be too crushing. But the revelation is not only this. It includes not only the greatness, but the love, of God. The majesty is that of a father, which takes our littleness into His greatness, makes it a part of itself, honours it, trains it, does not mock it; then there comes the true graciousness of humility. It is not less humble; but it is not crushed. The energy which the man used to get out of his estimate of his own greatness, he gets now out of the sight of his Father’s, which yet is so near to him that, in some finer and higher sense, it still is his; and so he is more hopeful, and happy, and eager, in his humility than he ever used to be in his pride. The true way to be humble is not to stoop till you are smaller than yourself, but to stand at your real height against some higher nature that shall show you what the real smallness of your greatest greatness is. The first is the unreal humility that goes about deprecating human nature; the second is the genuine humility that always stands in love and adoration, glorifying God. Christ also rescued and exalted humility by magnifying the essential glory of humanity. There never was any life that so superbly asserted the essential worth of humanity—showed what a surpassing thing it is to be a man—like that sin-convicting life of Jesus. He showed us that the human might be joined to the Divine. He glorified human nature, and by this glorification He taught man that it was his true place to be humble. There is nothing more strange, and at the same time more truthful, about Christianity than its combination of humility and exaltation for the soul of man. Christianity puts men face to face with the humbling facts, the great realities, and then humility comes upon the soul as darkness comes upon the face of the earth, not because the earth has made up its mind to be dark, but because it has rolled into the great shadow.—Phillips Brooks.
1 Peter 5:6-7. Perfect for Service.—The “captain of our salvation” was “made perfect through sufferings.” “He became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross.” If we would be like Him in His glory, we must first be like Him in His sufferings. Good things come after trouble. It is well to try and look upon life aright before we are forced to do so by the pressure of outward misery. We are to imitate Christ, so far as it is possible, in the particular sort of employment which He chose—namely, in the mixing with other men; neither for business only—that is, in the way of our calling; nor yet for pleasure only—that is, in common society; but for charity in its largest sense—that is, from a desire to do good to the bodies or souls of others. This Christ-like employment is most suited to our state on earth, and especially helps us to make that state happy, by enabling us to rid it of its carefulness. Half, and more than half, of the practical faults in the world arise from looking upon life in a false view, and expecting from it what God does not mean us to find in it. He to whom all things future are as present, suited both His life and His words to what He knew would be ever the chief error of mankind. He knew that social and civil activity were sufficiently natural to man to need no encouragement. He knew that knowledge would be pursued, and arts and sciences cultivated. But He knew that the kingdom of God and His righteousness would not be sought after; He knew that men would look carefully enough on the things of this life, but would care for little beyond it. He therefore made that so valuable which could help us forward to our real and eternal life, and that so trifling, when received in faith, which can but give joy and sorrow for a moment. Life is before us as a trial-time of uncertain length, in which we may fit ourselves, if we will, for an eternal life beyond it. We may be thankful to God when He makes our training for eternity consist in the doing great and useful actions, in bringing forth much fruit; but we, each of us, are doing our business as thoroughly, are answering as completely the purposes for which we were sent into the world, if we are laid for years on a bed of sickness, and made incapable of action. It is not true that our great business or object in this world is to do all the good we can in it; our great business and object is to do God’s will, and so to be changed through His Spirit into His image that we may be fit to live with Him for ever. His will is declared to us by the course of His providence, putting us into different situations of life where different duties are required of us. But these duties are duties because they are His will; and if performed without reference to Him, however good our motives may be, the great business of life is left undone. To keep this end in view is a wonderful means of ridding life of its carefulness. If simply to be useful in our generation be our main object, our happiness cannot but greatly depend upon outward circumstances. Weakened health, and early death, spoil usefulness. When we recollect what is indeed our real business here, we cast at once all our care on God, and resign ourselves contentedly to His disposal. It is with reference to this view of life especially that Christ’s particular employment, the mixing with others, not for business, or for pleasure, but to do them good, is so exceedingly useful. It is surprising how much pleasure may be given every day, how much suffering relieved, and how much good done. But how can we secure such a life? We may not be able to imitate Christ exactly in this point, but we must find opportunity to do sometimes what He did always. In every station or employment, we must find opportunity, or make it, if we would not deprive ourselves of what may well be called the path of daily living. And God will enable us to make a great deal even of our common intercourse with others; and here we all have our opportunities, unless we choose to neglect them. Such, then, is Christ’s daily lesson to us; not to be idle or slothful in our work; and to sanctify it all by doing it as to Him, and not to man.—Thomas Arnold, D.D.
1 Peter 5:7. Casting Care.—This familiar verse is more suggestive studied in its connection. The apostle is commending the great grace of Christian humility; first on the younger members of the Church in all their relations with the elder, and then on all the members in their various Church relations. Then follows this striking expression: “Be clothed with humility,” or “Gird yourselves with humility.” The picture presented to us is that of the Eastern gentleman, whose long, loose, and flowing garments are not held in place, or properly set off, until the handsome folded girdle is skilfully adjusted about the loins. St. Peter would remind us that there is a dress of Christian graces with which we should be clothed; but the various graces will not take orderly forms and relations, nor will they be complete, unless we are girded about with the sweet grace of Christian humility. Then the apostle reminds us that there is a foundation humility upon which our humble relations one with another must depend. It is the humbling of the self before God. Our text, taken with the immediately previous sentence, reminds us that the same truth may need setting in different forms, in order to meet the needs of various classes of persons. There are strong, energetic persons, who need to have truth stated strongly, and in tones of command. To them St. Peter says, “Humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God.” But there are also gentle souls, to whom the truth comes most effectively when it sounds like a “still small voice,” and falls like the night dews. To meet their case St. Peter repeats his command; and now it is, “Casting all your care upon Him, for He careth for you.” Humble souls find it easy to “cast their care.” They who can “cast their care” must be humble.
I. Think of man’s care.—“All your care.” By “care” is meant “anxiety” rather than “affliction.” Anxiety suggests the daily worry, the care about a thousand things. Care arises from:
1. Our frequent misunderstandings with our fellow-men. It comes because we persist in estimating things from our own points of view.
2. Our business and family claims. For these we need the word “harassed.”
3. Our religious claims. There should be grave anxiety as to the spirit of our life, and the tone of our example. And there should be constant watchfulness to find out, and willingness to respond to, all the reasonable demands made on our time or on our money.
II. Think of God’s care.—“He careth for you.” One is surprised to find the same word used for God as for ourselves. His care cannot be quite like ours. There can be no fretfulness, no worry, in it.
1. See His care of all the creatures He has made.
2. His precise knowledge of our anxieties.
3. His care of us in the midst of our anxieties.
III. God’s care of us is a persuasion to cast our care on Him.—“For.” He cares; then why should we? He is able; He is wise; He knows all; He loves with an everlasting love; He is our Father. Why should we not be as calm as the sailor boy in the wild storm, who knew that his father held the helm? If we would see precisely what is meant by “casting our care on God,” let us think of the prophet lifting up holy hands, and saying that most full, most touching, of all Bible prayers, “O Lord, I am oppressed; undertake Thou for me.” Is this “casting care” difficult? It is life’s great lesson. Yokes cease to rub and press when God bears them with us. Crosses are lightened when God bears them with us. And He always takes the heavier end. Some, however, do not know God well enough to trust Him thus simply, thus perfectly. Of all the burdens He would have cast upon Him, the first is that of the unpardoned soul. That! Yes; that greatest of all our cares we may “roll off” on Him “who careth for us.”
The Care of One Who Loves.—The care which God has is the care of one who loves, and therefore takes on his own heart the troubles of his beloved one. And what does He do with our care when thus we cast it upon Him? He does not take it and put it right away, hiding it for ever from our view. We wish He would do that. He does something altogether better. He takes the burden of care and puts it gently back on our shoulders, saying, “Remember, it is My care now; it is yours no longer. And now I want you to carry it for Me.” Then the yoke feels easy, and the burden is light.
Human Cares and the Divine Care.—The value of the injunction in the former half of the text depends entirely upon its latter half. For until we can get men to believe in the care of God for them, we shall never persuade them to cast all their care upon Him. It must be confessed, however, that it is not easy for any of us adequately to realise what these words, “He careth for you,” mean.
I. There are those who declare that the words have no meaning.—They see no “He” in the universe. True, they speak of nature with reverence, and in terms so warmly personal that we are sometimes tempted to think that their science has found what their faith had lost; but, if we may trust their own assertions, it is not so, for they find no evidence in nature of a living God. No man can cast his care upon an IT. The materialists’ creed fosters an inhuman quite as much as an ungodly type of character. If ever the presence of care becomes too heavy for him to bear it alone, one of two results will follow: either the creed will break down, or the man will. Hence suicide is so often the consequence of atheism.
II. We may find it difficult to realise that God really cares for us.—
1. Easier to believe that He cares for the universe at large, than that He takes any interest in us as individuals. Too prone to think of Him as exercising some kind of care over us, as a general does over his troops. He is not a general, but a Father. To rightly understand this text we must read, “He cares for me”; or,
2. Some one may say, “I cannot think God cares very much for me, or He would not allow me to suffer as I do, and give me this weary burden of care to bear day by day.” Like a child complaining of having hard lessons to learn. Very often trials and anxieties are the pledge and token of God’s love. If we had no care we might begin to doubt whether God cared for us.
III. If we lift the burden of our care at all we are to lift it for the last time, that we may cast it upon God.—Once there, it becomes God’s care, not ours. Because God cares for us, He will care for it.
IV. The little word “all” includes even the trivial and passing anxieties of each day.—To suppose that some cares are too insignificant to take to God in prayer is not to honour Him, but unnecessarily to burden ourselves. It has been said that “white ants pick a carcase quicker and cleaner than a lion does”; and so these little cares may even more effectually destroy our peace than a single great trouble if, in our mistaken reverence for God’s greatness, we refuse to cast them upon Him. G. S. Barrett, B.A.
ILLUSTRATIONS TO CHAPTER 5
1 Peter 5:7. God’s Love Inexhaustible.—Suppose a meadow in which a million of daisies open their bosoms, all at one time, to the sun. On one of them, while it was yet a bud, a little stone has fallen. At once crushed and overshadowed, it still struggles bravely against all odds to expand its petals like the rest. For many days this effort is continued without success. The tiny stone, a mighty rock to the tiny flower, squats on its breast, and will not admit a single sunbeam. At length the flower-stalk, having gathered strength by its constant exertion, acquired force enough to overbalance the weight, and tossed the intruder off. Up sprang the daisy with a bound; and in an instant another floweret was added to the vast multitude which in that meadow drank their fill of sunlight. The sun in heaven was not incommoded by the additional demand. The new-comer received into its open cup as many sunbeams as it would have received although no other flower had grown in all the meadow—in all the earth. Thus the sun, finite though it be, helps us to understand the absolute infinitude of its Maker. When an immortal being, long crushed and turned away by a load of sin, at length, through the power of a new spiritual life, throws off the burden, and opens with a bound to receive a heavenly Father’s long-offered but rejected love, the Giver is not impoverished by the new demand upon His kindness. Although a thousand millions should arise and go to the Father, each would receive as much of that Father’s love as if he alone of all fallen creatures had come back reconciled to God.—Rev. William Arnot.
Providential Care.—When a child (says Mrs. Mary Winslow, in her diary, then Mary Forbes) I accompanied my parents, during the French war, on a visit to England. Our vessel was a light barque, carrying a few guns, and but ill furnished for severe conflict with the enemy. On entering the Channel, midway between the English and French coast, a ship of war bore in sight. It was toward night, and as she appeared to bear down upon us, our captain prepared for action. My mother and I were hurried from the cabin to what was thought a place of greater safety below. My father remained on deck. All was confusion above us, while I was astonished at being thus suddenly removed from my comfortable berth to the dismal quarters beneath the decks. We had not been long there when I observed a boy come occasionally to the place of our imprisonment, and, with a large horn in his hand, take something from out of a barrel, having first fixed a lighted candle upon its edge, and leaving it there. Observing, as I sat upon my mother’s lap—who was too much absorbed in anxiety to notice the circumstance—that the piece of candle was nearly burnt to the edge, I got down, put out my hand, and took it away, saying, “Mamma, this will burn the barrel.” It was a cask of gunpowder. Had I not removed it that moment, or in removing it had a spark fallen from the lengthened wick, the vessel and all on board must have been blown to atoms.
God’s Care of His servants.—Paul Gerhard was, many years ago, a great preacher in Brandenburg, Germany, and he loved to preach from his heart what he saw and believed in the Word of God. But the “Great Elector” of Brandenburg did not like his preaching, and sent to say to him, “Paul Gerhard, if you cannot preach differently from that, you must leave this country.” Gerhard sent back a message that it would be very hard to leave his home, his people, his country, and his livelihood; but he could only preach what he found in God’s Word, and as long as he lived he would preach that. So he had to go into banishment with his wife and little children. At the end of the first day’s journey they came into a wood, and rested at night at a little inn they found there. The little children were crying and clinging to their mother, and she too, who had kept up all day, now began to weep. This made Gerhard have a very heavy heart. So he went alone into the dark wood to think and pray. While he was in the wood this text came to his mind and comforted him: “Commit thy way unto the Lord; trust also in Him, and He will bring it to pass.” “Yes,” he thought, “though I am banished from house and home, and don’t know where to take my wife and children for shelter to-morrow, yet God, my God, sees me in this dark wood. Now is the time to trust Him. He will show me the way through. He will bring it to pass.’ ” He was so happy that he remembered that text, and so thankful to God, that he tried to make the text into a hymn as he paced up and down between the trees. Every verse begins with a word or two from the text, so that if you read the first words of each verse you just read the text. When he went into the house he told his wife about the text, and began to repeat to her his hymn. She soon dried her tears (the children bad already gone to sleep), and become as hopeful and trustful as Gerhard himself. They had scarcely retired to rest when they heard a great noise at the door. It seemed as though some important person were knocking there. When the landlord opened the door, a man on horseback said aloud, “I am a messenger. I come from Duke Christian of Merscberg, and I am in search of Paul Gerhard. Do you know whether he has passed this way?” “Paul Gerhard,” said the landlord. “Yes, he is in this house.” “Then let me see him instantly,” said the Duke’s messenger. And the messenger handed to the good man a large sealed letter. It came from the Duke Christian, and it said, “Come into my country, Paul Gerhard, and you shall have church, and people, and home, and livelihood, and liberty to preach the gospel to your heart’s content. Gerhard’s hymn commenced thus:—
“ ‘Commit thy way,’ O weeper,
The cares that fret thy soul,
To thine Almighty Keeper,
Who makes the world to roll;
“ ‘Unto the Lord,’ who guideth
The wind and cloud and sea;
Oh, doubt not, He provideth
A pathway, too, for thee.”