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Jeremiah
Chapter Forty-five
Jeremiah 45
Chapter Contents
An encouragement sent to Baruch.
Baruch was employed in writing Jeremiah's prophecies, and
reading them, see Jeremiah 36, and was threatened for it by the
king. Young beginners in religion are apt to be discouraged with little
difficulties, which they commonly meet with at first in the service of God.
These complaints and fears came from his corruptions. Baruch had raised his
expectations too high in this world, and that made the distress and trouble he
was in harder to be borne. The frowns of the world would not disquiet us, if we
did not foolishly flatter ourselves with the hopes of its smiles, and court and
covet them. What a folly is it then to seek great things for ourselves here,
where every thing is little, and nothing certain! The Lord knows the real cause
of our fretfulness and despondency better than we do, and we should beg of him
to examine our hearts, and to repress every wrong desire in us.
── Matthew Henry《Concise Commentary on Jeremiah》
Jeremiah 45
Verse 3
[3] Thou didst say, Woe is me now! for the LORD hath added
grief to my sorrow; I fainted in my sighing, and I find no rest.
I find no rest — Upon Baruch's reading the
prophecies both he and Jeremiah were advised to hide themselves. This probably
disturbed Baruch, and made him lament his condition.
Verse 5
[5] And seekest thou great things for thyself? seek them
not: for, behold, I will bring evil upon all flesh, saith the LORD: but thy
life will I give unto thee for a prey in all places whither thou goest.
Seek them not — Dost thou expect what none is
like to meet with who feareth God? Upon all flesh - I am bringing calamities
upon the whole nation.
── John Wesley《Explanatory Notes on Jeremiah》
45 Chapter 45
Verses 1-5
Verse 5
Seekest thou great things for thyself?
seek them not.
Seeking great things
Baruch, the companion of Jeremiah, to whom these words were
addressed, was a young man of learning, who had probably formed large
expectations of distinction, which were sadly disappointed by the calamities
which befell his country. The prophet checks his aspirations in the strong
language of our text: “Seekest thou great things for thyself? seek them not.”
It is the selfish seeking of the great things of this world and the eager
pursuits of them, as if they were of supreme importance, which is censured by
the prophet.
1. They who thus seek them are least likely to attain them. It is
said there is a fiery light which appears in marshy places, floating just above
the surface of the earth, so volatile in its nature that the least breath moves
it, and consequently those who rush towards it most eagerly, create a current
of air which drives it from them, and it thus leads them on to miry places for
their destruction; while, if they would quietly sit down it might float near
them, or rest upon them when there was no agitation in the atmosphere to repel
it. So is it with the great things of this world, they often fly from those who
pant in the chase after them; they frequently rest upon those who reach after
them more quietly. One of the wealthiest individuals in a distant city, who
spends immense sums for benevolent purposes, was heard to say, that he hardly
knew how his property came to him; it seemed to increase without effort on his
part, and whether he would or no. The reason may have been because he was not
selfishly eager in the pursuit of it, and because he consecrated it to good
objects, and therefore God blessed him as He did Solomon.
2. They who selfishly and eagerly “seek the great things” of the
world, are apt to have some sore trial coupled with success, if they are
successful. Look at all history; when were its great men so wretched, as when
they had attained the highest point of exaltation! “He has gained everything,”
said a companion of Napoleon, when he was in the zenith of prosperity, “and yet
he is unhappy.” So true is this, that one almost dreads entering upon a state
of great worldly aggrandisement, or to see others entering upon it, lest something
should happen to mar all. We feel as we do when one is on a lofty spire,
admiring his elevation, but almost afraid to look at him lest he should fall
God has wisely connected such checks with worldly greatness, to teach us not to
set our hearts upon it, and to enforce the prophet s warning, “Seekest thou
great things for thyself? seek them not.”
3. The thought of death should teach the vanity of the selfish and
eager pursuit of worldly greatness. How one severe fit of sickness will change
the aspect of all the glitter of the world! In health it is like the panoramic
view where splendid palaces and cities pass before our delighted eyes; in
sickness the glass is taken away, and a little painted daub is seen, no bigger
than one’s hand. And death shuts out even that from our sight. “Millions for an
hour of life,” was the dying exclamation of one of England’s proudest queens.
It is further humiliating to all worldly aspirations to see how small, a
vacancy one makes among the living by his death. Think of any person, however
great he may have been, who has been two years dead, how little is he missed!
how everything goes forward just as smoothly without him! What then, in
conclusion, is the view of the great things of this life to which such
reflections lead? The proper view seems to be, not to despise the things of
this world, but to be sure that our supreme affections are on those of another
and a better; not to reject the good gifts of this life, but neither to toil
for them as if they were all in all to our happiness, nor to use them, when
gained, for our own selfish gratification. (W. H. Lewis, D. D.)
Seeking for “great things”
We wish, so to speak, not to annihilate the passions of human
nature, which sin disturbs and perverts; but, if possible, to convert them, and
turn them into another direction. You love pleasure, and we wish you to have
pleasure; only we would draw you off from “the pleasures of sin for a season,”
to the joy of God’s salvation; we would draw you from the filthy puddle to the
“water of life, clear as crystal, which proceedeth from the throne of God and
of the Lamb.” You love wealth; we wish you to love it, and to obtain it; but
not “the deceitful riches,” as the Scriptures call them, but the “true riches,”
the “unsearchable riches of Christ.” You are ambitious, and we wish you to be
so; you wish to rise, and we wish you to rise; you wish to be great, and we
wish you to be great; and therefore we would open a career of glory and
grandeur, in pursuing which you will be placed far above philosophers, and
politicians, and heroes, and kings; “dwelling on high,” and being “quickened
together with Christ,” “raised up, and made to sit with Him in the heavenly
places.” There are four reasons why you should not “seek great things” for
yourselves on earth, and four reasons why you should “seek those things that
are above.”
I. The one is
uncertain in acquisition--the other sure. A great deal of what is called
earthly greatness is placed beyond the reach of many, whatever they may do.
Many are poor, and they have not the opportunities and the means of becoming
affluent. Many cannot fill the seats of learning and of science; they have not
capacities to acquire the needful treasures. But here is a reason why you
should “seek those things which are above”; for these are always sure in their
attainment. In the work of the Lord the servant may become equally great with
the master; for moral greatness does not consist in doing great things, but in
doing little things with a great mind. And these are accessible to all.
II. The one is
fleeting in possession--the other durable. What is all history, but a relation
of the revolutions to which all worldly things are liable--of the rich
despoiled of their wealth, of nobles stript of their honours, of princes
dethroned, exiled, imprisoned, put to death--Pharaoh in the Red Sea, Nebuchadnezzar eating
grass like an ox, Belshazzar the conqueror and the conquered, Napoleon the
emperor and the captive! These instances, perhaps, are too peculiar, and too
remote, and national, to impress many of you: look therefore nearer home; look
at those things which will touch you. What is honour, but a noise of airy
breath? What is popularity? It hangs on the wavering tongue of the multitude,
who are like the waves of the sea, driven to and fro and tossed; now rolling
towards one shore, and now towards another, according to the gale; now crying
“Hosannah,” and now “Crucify Him, crucify Him.” Yes, wherever on earth you lay
up treasure, you must lay it up where “moth and rust do corrupt, and where
thieves break through and steal.” And here is another thing to be taken into
the account too. Allowing that these things could be perpetuated in your
possession to the end of life, they can be possessed no longer. You have only a
life interest in any of them. Shall I set my heart on that which is not, and
that from which I am so soon to be removed? But now this is a reason why you
should “seek those things that are above”; for he that succeeds here (and we
have shown that you will succeed if you seek them), has “chosen,” as our
Saviour says, “that good part, which shall never be taken away from him.” He
has seized a blessedness which is independent of external accidents,
independent of the revolutions of states, independent of the vicissitudes of
time, independent of the ravages of death, independent of the conflagration of
the last day: so that when “the heavens shall pass away with a great noise, and
the elements shall melt with fervent heat, the earth also and the works that
are therein shall be burnt up,” he can stand upon the ashes of the universe and
say, “I have lost nothing”; “I look for new heavens and a new earth, wherein
dwelleth righteousness.”
III. The one is
unsatisfactory in enjoyment--the other satisfying. Take the “great things” you
would here seek after for yourself; allowing that you attain them (and you have
heard that the attainment is uncertain)--allowing that you could retain them
(and you have heard that the retention is impossible)--yet there is no real
contentment in them. Ahab was king of Israel Was he satisfied with his
dominion? No; he covets Naboth’s little vineyard; and because he cannot obtain
it, he is sick forsooth and takes to his bed and can eat nothing. Some of the
Roman emperors, who strode over the world, were the most wretched of all beings; they were
burdens to themselves. I was one day walking with rich individual over his estate; his mind was in
a serious mood, and I endeavoured to avail myself of it; and he made this very
wise remark, “Sir,” said he, “those who have not succeeded in the world always
impute their dissatisfaction to their want of success; they are not aware of
the insufficiency of these things themselves. ‘Oh!’ say they, ‘could we obtain
them, we should be happy.’ But those of us who have succeeded, and have
obtained them, and find ourselves no nearer happiness than before, are the men
who know that the fault lies in the things themselves.” But this is a reason
why you should “seek those things which are above.” They are satisfying.
IV. The one is dangerous
and injurious in influence--the other safe and beneficial. Yes; the “great
things” you seek here for yourselves, owing to our depravity, are full of
peril. “Who is the Lord,” says Pharaoh, “that I should obey Him?” “How,” says
our Saviour, “can ye believe, who receive honour one of another, and seek not
the honour which cometh from God only?” Even good men, with regard to these
“great things,” as they are called in our text, want peculiar grace, or they
will not be proof against their evil influence. Hezekiah could not bear the
notice taken of him by the ambassadors of Benhadad; “his heart was lifted up;
therefore was wrath upon him and all his people.” I never yet saw a Christian
improved by his rising in the world: I have seen many who have been injured by
it: I have seen many who have been less constant and regular in their
attendance on the means of grace, though they had more leisure, and could
command a vehicle: I have seen those who have given less afterwards--not less
comparatively, but less absolutely; some of them who gave gold, then gave
silver, and some even copper. Wherefore, once more, “Seekest thou great things
for thyself? seek them not”; but “seek those things which are above.” There
safety is. These are not only blameless; but they are profitable--“profitable
unto all things; having promise of the life that now is, and of that which is
to come.” These, instead of polluting the mind, will purify it; they will draw
you off from earth, instead of allowing you to settle here. Instead of elevating
you, they will clothe you with humility; instead of leading you away from your
God, they will connect you with Him; they will prepare you for every condition
in which you can be found. Therefore you cannot have too much of these. (W.
Jay.)
The folly of ambition
I. The first
reason for not seeking the great things of earth and time is, that they will
not be attained. We do not deny that the energy and perseverance of an
ambitious man will accomplish great results, but we affirm confidently that he
will never attain what he desires. For his desires are continually running
ahead of his attainments, so that the more he gets the more he wants. He never
acquires the “great thing” which he is seeking in such a way as to sit down
quietly and enjoy contentment of heart. Alexander, we are told, having
conquered all the then known world, wept in disappointment because there were
no more worlds for him to overrun and subdue. In this way, it is apparent that
he who is seeking great things here upon earth will never obtain them. He is
chasing his horizon. He is trying to jump off his own shadow. As fast as he
advances, the horizon recedes from him; the further he leaps, the further his
shadow falls. His estimate of what a “ great thing” is continually changes, so
that though relatively to other men he has accumulated wealth, or obtained
earthly power and fame, yet absolutely, he is no nearer the desire of his
heart--no nearer to a satisfying good--than he was at the beginning of his
career. Nay, it is the testimony of many a man, that the first few gains that
were made at the beginning of life came nearer to filling the desires of the
mind, and were accompanied with more of actual contentment, than the thousands
and millions that succeeded them.
II. If they could
be attained they would ruin the soul. It is fearful to observe the rapidity
with which a man’s character deteriorates as he secures the object of his
desire, when the object is a merely earthly one, and the desire is a purely
selfish one. Take, for illustration, the career of Napoleon Bonaparte. He aimed
at a universal empire in Europe. And just in proportion as he approached the
object of his aspirations, did he recede from that state of mind and heart
which ought to characterise a dependent creature of God. We always associate
him with those pagan demi-gods, those heaven-storming Titans, who like the
Lucifer of Scripture are the very impersonation of pride and ambition But such
a spirit as this is the worst species of human character. It is the most
intense form of idolatry--that of egotism and self-worship. It is the most
arrogant and defiant form of pride. It would scale the heavens. It would
dethrone the Eternal. The same effect of mere worldly success is seen also in
the walks of everyday life. Cast your eye over the circle in which you move,
and select out those who are the most greedy of earthly good, and are the most
successful in obtaining it, and are they not the most selfish persons that you
know? It is here that we see the moral benefit of failures and disappointments.
Were men uniformly successful in their search after “great things”; did every
man who seeks wealth obtain wealth, and every man who grasps after power obtain
power, and every man who lusts after fame become renowned, the world would be a
pandemonium, and human character and happiness would be ruined. Swollen by
constant victory, and a sense of superiority, successful men would turn their
hands against one another, as in the wars of the giants before the flood. There
would be no self-restraint, no regard for the welfare of others, no moderate
and just estimate of this world, and no attention to the future life.
III. “Great things,”
so far as they are attained at all in this world, are commonly attained
indirectly. Saul, the son of Kish, was sent out by his father to find the asses
that had strayed, but he found a kingdom instead. Look into literary history,
and see how this is exemplified. The most successful creations of the human
reason and imagination have rarely been the intentional and foreseen products
of the person. The great authors have been surprised at their success; if,
indeed, success came to them during their lifetime. But more commonly their
fame has been posthumous, and their ears never heard a single note of the paean
that went up from the subsequent generations that were enchanted with their
genius. Shakespeare and Milton never read a single criticism upon their own
works; and to-day they neither know anything of nor care for the fame that
attends them upon this little planet. Look, again, into the circles of trade
and commerce, and observe how often great and lasting success comes
incidentally, rather than as the consequence of preconceived purposes and
plans. The person simply endeavoured to provide for the present and prospective
wants of those dependent upon him, with prudence and moderation. He obtained,
however, far more than he calculated upon. Wealth came in upon him with
rapidity, and that which he did not greedily seek, and which he never in the
least gloated upon with a miser’s feeling, was the actual result of his career
in the world. Seekest thou, then, great things for thyself? seek them not. They
will not come by this method. Seek first of all the kingdom of God, and His
righteousness; and then all these minor things, which the world and the deluded
will be likely to attain even by the most engrossing and violent efforts
devoted to the sole purpose of obtaining them.
IV. Great sorrow
springs from great aspirations, when those aspirations are unattained. There is
only one species of aspiration that does not weary and wear the soul, and that
is, the craving and cry of the soul after God. Humboldt, who had surveyed the
cosmos, and who had devoted a long existence to placid contemplation of the
processes of nature, and had kept aloof from the exciting and passionate
provinces of human literature, said in his eightieth year, “I live without
hope, because so little of what I have undertaken yields a satisfactory
result.” This is the penalty which ambitious minds pay for seeking “great
things.” There is an infinite aspiration, and an infinitesimal performance. The
hour of death, and the failing shadows of an everlasting existence, and an
everlasting destiny, bring the aspiration and the performance into terrible
contrast. Go down, once more, into the sphere of active life, and see the same
sorrow from the same cause. Look at that man of trade and commerce who has
spent his life in gigantic, and, we will suppose, successful enterprises, and
who now draws near the grave. Ask him how the aspiration compares with the performance. He
has generally accomplished, we will assume, what he undertook. The results of
his energy and capacity are known,
and visible to all in his circle and way of life. His associates have praised
him, and still praise him; for he has done well for himself, and for all
connected with him. But he writes vanity upon it all. When he thinks of all the heat and fever of his
life, all his anxious calculation and toil by day and night, all his sacrifice
of physical comfort and of mental and moral improvement, and then thinks of the
actual results of it all--the few millions of treasure, the few thousands of
acres, or the few hundreds of houses--he bewails his infatuation, and curses
his folly.
1. In the light of this subject and its discussion, we perceive the
sinfulness of ambition.
2. We see in the light of this subject, the complete and perfect
blessedness of those who are free from all ambitious aims and selfish purposes;
who can say, “Whom have I in heaven but Thee?” &c. (G. T. Shedd, D. D.)
Seek not great things for yourself
I. Seek not great
things for yourselves, for self ought never to be an ultimate object. The glory
of God is the only legitimate aim. The glorification of God is not to be sought
as a mean to the good of the creature, but the reverse--man would be exalted
above God. Even great spiritual things arc not to be sought for our own
purposes and exaltation--“name’s sake.” There is no hardship in this, for if we
seek the glory of God, our own enjoyment will follow.
II. Seek not great
things for yourselves, for you thereby render them the objects of idolatrous
worship.
III. Seek not great
things for yourselves, for to do so is to subordinate the discharge of duty to
their acquisition and enjoyment.
IV. Seek not great
things for yourselves, for by doing so you will involve yourselves and others
in much positive suffering.
V. Seek not great
things for yourselves, when the Church of Christ requires your sympathy and
your efforts.
Baruch. (Jas. Stewart.)
A dissuasive from ambition
I. When we may be
said to seek great things for ourselves.
1. When we seek a larger portion of worldly good than is necessary.
But still the question returns, How much is necessary? If men were to answer
this question, they would soon prove that few or none are guilty of violating
the command in our text; for they all pretend that they seek no more than is
necessary. But by this term they usually mean all that would be necessary to
gratify their sinful inclinations and desires. Now man’s chief end is to
glorify God, and enjoy Him for ever; or, in other words, to obey God’s will and
receive His everlasting favour. More than this no man needs; more than this no
man ought to seek.
2. When we seek them for ourselves only, or seek them merely with a
view to self-gratification or self-aggrandisement.
II. Some of the
reasons why we should not seek great things for ourselves.
1. Because it is the sure way to multiply our disappointments and
sorrows. In the lottery of life there are few prizes, and many blanks. He,
then, who seeks great things for himself, engages in a pursuit in which it is
exceedingly probable he will be disappointed; and the more ardent are his
desires, the more eager his pursuit, the more keen will be the sufferings which
his disappointment will occasion. But this is not all. The man whose pursuit is
crowned with success, will be no less disappointed than his unsuccessful
neighbour. After he has obtained great things, he will find himself as far from
happiness, find his desires as unsatisfied, his mind as discontented as before.
His desires will increase with his success. Nay, they will increase much faster
than his success.
2. Another reason may be drawn from the nature and situation of the
world in which we live. Might we not as easily employ our time and exertions in
building upon a quicksand, or upon ice which the summer’s sun will melt away!
3. Another reason may be found in our own character and situation. We
are ourselves sinful, dying, and
accountable creatures. We have, therefore, a great work to do, no
less a work than securing the favour of God, and obtaining the salvation of our
immortal souls, a work which demands our time, our attention, our utmost
exertions. And can we, in such a situation, find leisure or inclination to seek
great things for ourselves here? to seek them while death is at the door; while
the Judge is at hand;
while eternity draws near; while our souls, unprepared, are in momentary danger
of sinking beyond the reach of hope or mercy?
4. Another reason is, that seeking them is incompatible with the
duties which we are required to perform; and of course incompatible with our
best interests. Man has but one soul, but one heart, but a certain limited
portion of time, strength, and energy. He cannot, then, give his heart to God
and to the world at the same time. (E. Payson, D. D.)
Ambition
I. The evil
denounced. It may be viewed under three aspects.
1. There are some who pursue worldly objects that are far above them.
2. There are some who pursue with undue eagerness worldly objects
they might reasonably hope to attain.
3. There are some who pursue all classes of worldly objects in a
selfish spirit.
II. The reasons why
it is denounced.
1. Because it attaches excessive value to worldly objects.
2. Because it misapprehends the comparative advantages of the
different ranks in the social scale.
3. Because it overlooks the duties which arise out of the relations
we sustain to our race and our Maker.
4. Because it ignores all the facts, and objects, and interests, and
blessings of the spiritual world. Address--
A great missionary’s self-effacement
When Stanley found Livingstone in the heart of Africa, he begged
the old heroic missionary to go home. There seemed to be many reasons why he
should go back to England. His wife was dead; his children lived in England;
the weight of years was pressing upon him, and the shortest march wearied him.
He was often compelled to halt many days to recover strength after his frequent
attacks of prostrating illness. Moreover, he was destitute of men and means to
enable him to make much practical progress. But like the great apostle to the
Gentiles, none of these things moved him, nor counted he his life dear to
himself. “No, no,” he said to Stanley; “to be knighted, as you say, by the Queen,
welcomed by thousands of missionary enthusiasts, yes--but impossible. It must
not, cannot, will not be. I must finish my task, and do what I can to bring
Africa to Christ.”
Thought self mars the finest work
Every artist longs to have his work thought well of. But the
higher artist seeks first truth and beauty, and hopes for praise as the meed
due to them. The lower artist is so thirsty for praise, thinks so much more
about himself than about his work, that he turns aside to make a display of his
strength or skill. He is not wholly given to bringing forth truth and beauty,
but he is hankering to strike the beholder s eye with his originality or power.
This I take to be the secret of--’s aberrations. His pictures show wonderful
force of painting; but what spoils them is that, instead of calmly striving to
raise his painting to the highest, he has itched to amaze you by his boldness.
(Charles Buxton, M.P.)
The folly of self-seeking in Christ’s service
Spurgeon in a late sermon hits off a very common fault noticeable
among Christian workers: “The hen in the farmyard has laid an egg, and feels so
proud of the achievement that she must cackle about it; everybody must know of
that one poor egg till all the country round resounds with the news. It is so
with some professors: their work must be published, or they can do no more.
‘Here have I,’ said one, ‘been teaching in the school for years, and nobody
ever thanked me for it; I believe that some of us who do the most are the least
noticed, and what a shame it is!’ But if you have done your service unto the
Lord you should not talk so, or we shall suspect you of having other aims. The
servant of Jesus will say, ‘I do not want human notice; I did it for the
Master; He noticed me, and I am content. I tried to please Him, and I did
please Him, and therefore I ask no more, for I have gained my end. I seek no
praise of men, for I fear lest the breath of human praise should tarnish the
pure silver of my service.’”
How to lose thought of self
When a dog is not noticed, he doesn’t like it. But when the dog is
after a fox he don’t care whether he is noticed or not. If a minister is
seeking for souls he will not think of himself. Self is forgotten in a single
aim to save others. (C. H. Spurgeon.)
Ambition true and false
It is related of the late Charles Haddon Spurgeon that at the
commencement of his ministry, when he was beginning to feel conscious of the
wonderful powers with which God had endowed him--like most young people, I
suppose, for he was but a boy, or little more than a boy at the time--he was
one day walking across a common and seemed to hear, as it were, a voice
speaking to his innermost consciousness in the terms of my text, “Seekest thou
great things for thyself? seek them not.” Mr. Spurgeon accepted the text which
flashed into his mind as a Divine message and monition, and from that moment
made a fuller consecration of himself, his life, his opportunity, his power to
the service of the living God. We know the result, and looking back upon it we
know, much better, I venture to think, than he did even on the day of his
death, but not better than he knows it now, he chose the good part, which was
not taken from him. He set his affections on things above, not on things of the
earth. Mr. Spurgeon deliberately renounced worldly ambition. That is what I
want you to do. But do not make any mistake and think that I mean you to
renounce ambition in the truer sense, because Mr. Spurgeon certainly did not. I
want you to see what is the difference between ambition false and ambition
true, and to endeavour, if I can, to clear away some confusion of thought which
clings around this particular subject. What is ambition, as commonly
understood? You will gather it, I think, from such familiar phrases as “that
last infirmity of noble mind,” or “by this sin fell the angels.” It takes many
forms. If one wished to suggest a name or a life in which ambition had freest
and most unrestricted reign, I think you would name Napoleon. He is the
classical, outstanding instance; not that, I am quite sure, he is any more
guilty than thousands of persons before him and since. But in Napoleon
ambition, insatiate and unconcealed, had undisputed sway. He waded to his
throne, as has been said, through the blood and tears of millions. I never care
to be too hard on a conventional type of a particular failing for fear one
should happen to be wrong, but Mr. Gladstone said of Napoleon that perhaps he
had the mightiest intellect that was ever packed into a human skull. Judged by
the facts as they appear to us, that intellect was prostituted. It never was
exalted as it might have been, and, as I believe sincerely, God meant it to be.
Yet another type is Cecil Rhodes. Here, again, I speak somewhat diffidently,
because it is possible that very different opinions in regard to the worth and
work of Cecil Rhodes obtain in this congregation. But this is my view of his
life. He had a great idea as to the position and place of England in the world.
More than that, he believed in the mission of the Anglo-Saxon race. But he was
not too scrupulous in his attempts to realise his ideal, if we may judge by the
facts as they appeared to us. It was a form of ambition not so despicable as
Napoleon’s, because it was less self-centred, but I venture to think it was
materialistic and mistaken, and now that the great man has gone there are
thousands upon thousands of us who, looking upon his career, pronounce those
saddest words of the tongue or pen, the saddest of all, “it might have been.”
Cecil Rhodes was a great empire builder, we are told. He might have been more
than that. He sought great things, and he saw himself associated with them. Do
you feel, you young men, that his is the highest ideal and the type to which
you would like to conform your character? I trust to he able to show before I
close that it was not. You men of the world know perfectly well how you weigh
each other up. You see a good thing done for which a man is receiving an amount
of public credit, and you promptly ask, “What is his aim? What axe has he to
grind?” You can scarcely bring yourself to believe in disinterestedness at all,
because, so far as you have been able to see, people who were apparently
disinterested, really had some ulterior motive that would not hear the light.
You know among your associates, for example--in the business house, it may
be--the difference between the man of modest ambition and the man of vaulting,
unscrupulous ambition. You prefer the former, but you never believe that he has
no axe to grind at all. In most cases you are right, but beware of general
statements. I think the chief danger of to-day is not that men are too
ambitious, but that they serve the wrong form of ambition. There are fellows in
your business--perhaps a good many of those who are here present could be
included in the category--who are at fault not because they have too much
ambition, but because they have not enough of the right sort. The man who will
not work, the man who will not aspire-and there are plenty of them in our
country--the man who never wishes to be any better or more powerful, or to live
his life more completely than now, is of no benefit to society, and his
selfishness is as real as the selfishness of any Napoleon You owe something to
God, you owe something to men. There is not one among you who is an isolated
unit. I have with me here an extract from Carlyle, which I think can put more
clearly than I can the distinction between the true ambition and the false.
“Let me say that there are two kinds of ambition, one wholly blameable, the
other laudable and inevitable The selfish wish to shine over others, let it be
accounted altogether poor and miserable.” “Seekest thou great things for thy,
self? seek them not.” This is most true. “And yet I say,” continues Carlyle,
“there is an irrepressible tendency in every man to develop himself according
to the magnitude which Nature has made him of, to speak out and to act out what
Nature has laid in him. This is proper, fit, inevitable; nay, it is duty, the
duty of duties. For man the meaning of life here on earth might be defined as
consisting in this--to unfold yourself, to work what thing you have the faculty
for. It is a necessity for every human being, the first law of our existence.”
I am going to try and spiritualise, if I can, that wonderful principle set forth
by Carlyle. True ambition is to live out what is in you for the sake of Him who
gave you life. It is a wonderful, it is even an awful, thought that God Himself
finds fulfilment through what you are. God’s work is being done, God s thoughts
and purposes are being realised by these commonplace men and women that I see
around me, and every one of you is the embodiment of the Divine. Would you
shrink and shrivel that Divine which God has given you? It is to be manifested
not only for your own sake, nor chiefly so, but for the sake of Him who gave it
and to mankind. I want to warn you against misusing God’s great gift, your own
soul. You are a unique product in the universe, and there are unmeasured
possibilities before every man here. Each of us, all of us are citizens of
eternity. The true ambition is that of a man who is not afraid to endure, not
afraid to sacrifice, not afraid to spend his soul, for in giving he is gaining,
and he shall have more abundantly. Now, young men, I want to warn you before I go
on against possible disappointment even in your endeavour to live up to your
ideal. It may be that while I have been speaking in these terms to you some old
and wise man m this assembly may have been thinking to himself, “That preacher
will change his tone in a few years when he knows how sadly life can
disillusion and can trample upon our ideals.” Oh, the tragedies of life, the
hopes blighted, the old men who are just doing their day’s work in patience
that no longer one can expect. Well, you are only saying what has been said
before. That poor, wayward genius, Percy Bysshe Shelley, saw a little farther
than the disappointment when he told us in so many words that it is never
possible for the soul to live itself out completely here. How should it be? Because
here is not the close of our destiny. It will take all eternity for you to live
out what God has put in. Never think that you are going to live out all, but I
think you will save yourself from disappointment if you will only say, “It is
possible for me to get on the right track now and be living out in time that
which I shall live out better when eternity comes.” It is possible for you to
give a whole-hearted, unselfish allegiance “to a great ideal, and that not for
your own sake. There is a Divine idea pervading the visible universe, the
spirit of truth and beauty and good. We are called to service, every one of us
is called to reveal and express it in some fashion. For us it is embodied in
Jesus Christ. I cannot but halt there. The Christ contains for me all that
humanity is able to aspire to or understand, the great Divine ideal. The life
that is given to Christ is well invested. It has produced the best results in
the history of human character. What a man was Paul! The Christ crossed his
path, and this ambitious, zealous, burning soul changed to something else, Saul
the persecutor became. Paul the apostle, lived a suffering life and died an
obscure death in a Roman prison; and this was his verdict when the evening
came--“I have fought the good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the
faith . . . I am now ready to be offered.” Paul knew that his life was hid with
Christ in God. He knew that this is the shadow time, the other side is the
reality. The Master’s comment on the choice is this--“I will show him how great
things he must suffer for My name’s sake.” Young men, I strongly urge you,
choose the life wherein you can throw your best energies for God. Have a
purpose therein. Do not fear to give it Him back. Beware of seeming to drift
into a destiny. Let your choice be rational, let it be strong, let it be pure.
By and by you shall do greater things than these. In time be faithful to the
little that you can do, that in eternity you may do the more for God. Believe
that you have a vocation, a vocation for God. You will not live out all that is
within you here. You cannot. But if you live only for yourself here you will be
a wretched man. Give the best to God. We have all read that psychological
novel, John Inglesant, with its too self-conscious hero. One character
drawn therein, that of a Jesuit, who for s time is spiritual adviser to John
Inglesant, seems to me to be a remarkable one. I know not whether such a Jesuit
ever existed, but you know this, the Jesuits by their system of training manage
to squeeze out of every man upon whom they get their grip any thought of living
for his own self-interest. He becomes the bond-slave of the society. They have
great strength from the fact that they can thus obsess a man, as it were,
de-self him, and make him work for the great organisation. Here is the Jesuit’s
verdict to John Inglesant upon his own life, an exhortation for his pupil:
Choose your side or your lot; when you have chosen it be true to it all the
way. It matters comparatively little what a man chooses as his course of action
provided it be a worthy one and his conscience tells him so, but when he has
chosen, no looking back. Go straight on, be faithful to the uttermost, cost
what it may. A grand and a glorious ideal for the twentieth century, as well as
for the seventeenth. And there is a Divine principle within us which urges us
to do our best to make the world better than we found it. I have often been
struck with the fact that very ordinary people, who make very small profession
of religion, somehow will do this at some part of their career, in some one of
their interests. They feel they must even at a cost do a little to make the
world gladder and to make the world better. I remember the utterance of the
bishop in Victor Hugo’s Les Miserables. As the convict stands at the
door of the house, proclaiming what he was by his dress and his demeanour, thus
spoke the servant of God, “This house is not my house, it is the house of Jesus
Christ. This door does not demand of him that enters it whether he has a name,
but whether he has a grief.” Oh, I feel that if our bodies were made the
temples of the Christ as the bishop’s house was made the tabernacle of his
Lord; if our interests, our opportunities were consecrated to Him, oh, what a
difference, majestic, far-reaching, redemptive it would make to the world
to-morrow. And, if I could, I would like to fill every young soul before me
to-night with that Divine ideal. What can we do, you and I, to bless the world?
Just what these noble ones in times past have done, the Pauls and the Luthers
and the Wesleys, not merely ambition, but the consecrating of everything they
possessed to their Lord, and the counting all but loss if they might win Him.
Let us do the same as these. “Seekest thou great things for thyself? seek them
not.” Seekest thou great things for God? Go on. Live out all that God has given
you as His trustee. Seekest thou joy and blessedness and victory and power in
the highest sense of that word? Would you come to the full stature of your
manhood? Then “seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all
these things shall be added unto you.” (R. J. Campbell, M. A.)
Self-seeking vetoed
This short chapter embodies the history of Baruch, the secretary
of Jeremiah.
I. The very
excusable moan (verse 3), “Woe is me now!”
1. He was probably pained for his master’s sake.
2. Probably grieved on account of the unhappy national outlook.
3. Was evidently distressed on his own account. Possibly weary of
being secretary with dangerous duties attached.
II. The very
decided veto on his ambitious design.
1. God interpreted his aspiration, whatever its nature.
2. Decidedly nipped the project in the bud.
3. Suggesting by implication that he seek great things for
others--Jeremiah, to wit. To be identified with him was true greatness. Men are
engrossed in themselves, their family, their party, their “ism.”
III. The
compensating guarantee. “Thy life will I give unto thee.”
1. The nation at large would pass through great tribulation.
2. Baruch and his master would be hurried hither and thither.
3. But the secretary’s life would be given him as a reward. Baruch
lived through all the dire experiences that followed. Escaped from Egypt to
Babylon, and wrote the Book of Baruch. Who has not enjoyed the compensations of
selfishness? Every surrender of selfhood helps to enrich the soul. (W. J.
Acomb.)
──《The Biblical Illustrator》