When Christ warned Peter: “You will deny me,” and he insisted that he never would, he showed how little he understood what there was in himself. But when I read his epistle and hear him say: “If you are insulted because of the name of Christ, you are blessed, for the Spirit of glory and of God rests on you.” (1 Pet. 4:14), then I say that it is not the old Peter, but that is the very Spirit of Christ breathing and speaking within him.
I read again how he says: “To this you were called, because Christ suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you should follow in his steps.” (1 Pet. 2:21). I understand what a change had come over Peter. Instead of denying Christ, he found joy and pleasure in having self denied and crucified and given up to the death. And therefore it is in the Acts we read that, when he was called before the Council, he could boldly say: “We must obey God rather than men” (Acts 5:29), and that he could return with the other disciples and rejoice that they were counted worthy to suffer for Christ’s name.
Dear friend, I beseech you, look at Peter utterly changed—the self-pleasing, the self-trusting, the self-seeking Peter, full of sin, continually getting into trouble, foolish and impetuous, but now filled with the Spirit and the life of Jesus. Christ had done it for him by the Holy Spirit.
—Andrew Murray
Her fault was not that she served: the condition of a servant well becomes every Christian. “I serve,” should be the motto of all the princes of the royal family of heaven. Nor was it her fault that she had “much serving.” We cannot do too much. Let us do all that we possibly can; let head, and heart, and hands, be engaged in the Master’s service. It was no fault of hers that she was busy preparing a feast for the Master. Happy Martha, to have an opportunity of entertaining so blessed a guest; and happy, too, to have the spirit to throw her whole soul so heartily into the engagement. Her fault was that she grew “cumbered with much serving,” so that she forgot him, and only remembered the service. She allowed service to override communion, and so presented one duty stained with the blood of another. We ought to be Martha and Mary in one: we should do much service, and have much communion at the same time. For this we need great grace. It is easier to serve than to commune. Joshua never grew weary in fighting with the Amalekites; but Moses, on the top of the mountain in prayer, needed two helpers to sustain his hands. The more spiritual the exercise, the sooner we tire in it. The choicest fruits are the hardest to rear: the most heavenly graces are the most difficult to cultivate. Beloved, while we do not neglect external things, which are good enough in themselves, we ought also to see to it that we enjoy living, personal fellowship with Jesus. See to it that sitting at the Saviour’s feet is not neglected, even though it be under the specious pretext of doing him service. The first thing for our soul’s health, the first thing for his glory, and the first thing for our own usefulness, is to keep ourselves in perpetual communion with the Lord Jesus, and to see that the vital spirituality of our religion is maintained over and above everything else in the world.
The Christian should be separate in his actions. I would not give much for your religion unless it can be seen. I know some people’s religion is heard of, but give me the man whose religion is seen. Lamps do not talk, but shine; a lighthouse sounds no drum, it beats no gong, and yet far over the waters its friendly spark is seen by the mariner. So let your actions shine out your religion. Let your conduct talk out your soul. Let the main sermon of your life be illustrated by all your conduct, and it shall not fail to be illustrious. Have I not told you before that the only bit of ecclesiastical history we have in the whole New Testament is—what? The sermons of the Apostles? No, no, the “Acts of the Apostles.” So let your history be written, so that it may have this title—“The acts of such-and-such a man.” This will furnish the best proof that you have been with Jesus.
‘They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength. Neither hath the eye seen, O God, beside Thee, which worketh for him that waiteth for Him.’—Isa. 40:31, 64:4
If you want heaven but you also want your sins, do not expect to succeed. You must part company with one or the other. If you will not let go of your sins, God will have to let go of you. If you want heaven but insist on purchasing it with your own righteousness, you will fall short of the price. You are like the near kinsman in Ruth who wanted to buy Elimelech’s land but was not willing to marry Ruth as the law required (4:2-4). All the good you do, all the duties you perform, are admirable if they are acts of love that follow your act of repentance. But if you offer them as the price you are willing to pay for heaven, God will not deal with you. You must close with Christ and him alone, or lose the whole bargain.
I have often been asked by young Christians: “Why is it that I fail so? I did so solemnly vow with my whole heart, and did desire to serve God. Why have I failed?”
The highest love that can be attained in this life is poor, cold, low, and not worthy to be compared with our obligation to love. The greatest saints are discouraged that they love Christ so little. They feel ungrateful for his dying love. They are convinced their corruption is much greater than their goodness. The least sin against an infinite God has an infinite hatefulness or deformity in it, but the highest degree of holiness in a creature does not have an infinite loveliness in it. This makes human loveliness equal nothing. The more a person has of true grace and spiritual light, the more it will appear this way. Our best is less than a drop in the ocean. The finite bears no proportion at all to that which is infinite.
In Christ obedience was a life principle. Obedience with Him did not mean a single act of obedience now and then, not even a series of acts, but the spirit of His whole life. ‘I came, not to do My own will.’ ‘Lo, I come, to do Thy will, O God.’ He had come into the world for one purpose. He only lived to carry out God’s will. The one supreme, all-controlling power of His life was obedience.
The power of faith and of obedience lies especially in unity with the living God Himself. There is but one Hebrew word for ‘obeying voice’ and ‘hearing voice:’ to hear aright prepares to obey. It is when I learn the will of God, not in the words of a man or a book, but from God Himself, when I hear the voice of God, that I shall surely believe what is promised and do what is commanded. The Holy Spirit is the voice of God: when we hear the living voice speak, obedience becomes easy. (Gen. 12:1,4; 31:13,16; Matt. 14:28; Luke 5:5; John 10:4,27) O let us then wait in silence upon God, and set our soul open before Him, that He may speak by His Spirit. When in our Bible-reading and praying we learn to wait more upon God, so that we can say: My God has spoken this to me, has given me this promise, has commanded this, then shall we also obey. ‘To listen to the voice’ earnestly, diligently, is the sure way to obedience.