'' In the world's broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle !
Be a hero in the strife !"
Not as the poet sings "the psalm of life," out of dim twilight of world-ideas, are his lines cited here; but as shadowing forth something which for the Christian is a deep reality. '' The world's broad field of battle" is not ours, in the poet's sense, for we fight not with the world, but a-gainst its errors, its groveling principles, and the wicked spirits that inspire it. But only believers in Christ can really claim "the bivouac of life." The camp of life, fellow-believer, belongs to us, and we to it. The rest of men are dead, even while they live; and we alone are enlisted soldiers in life's camp, divinely drilled and disciplined, and led into battle under the beauteous banners of Christ. This is familiar truth-alas, become too common in many of our minds! But may our God awaken us to the glory of our calling, the glory that beckons faith in all our present opportunities!
How can we be so slow of heart-we who know the truth? Do men of the world lack energy in grasping the baubles for which they struggle ? For them the battle is on. Led by lusts of wealth, political power, social exclusiveness, professional distinction, military renown, ecclesiastical preferment, literary success and scientific fame, under the sin-stained pennon of ambition they strive for mastery with earnestness worthy of a better cause.
The whole world dreams of heroes. The burden of its literature is the exploits of those it reckons such. Mythologies of Greece and Rome, myths of the ancient nations of the East, sagas of the Northland, tales of chivalry, annals of kings and warriors of every clime and age, all express the hero-worship of the human heart. Base and trashy are most of the standards of heroism, but their existence discloses a universal instinct. What is man's novel, or a play in his theater, without its hero and heroine ? What but man, in his heroic phases, is the theme of poet, historian and biographer ? Is not the imagination of the babe in the nursery fed on the same food- the exploits of Jack the Giant-killer or some fairy prince?
But are not these ideals, ambitions and literature which the Christian eschews ? Assuredly, dear reader! If our mind lusts after these things the spirit of Christian heroism lies dormant in us. Instead of battling in ranks of a heavenly chivalry, we are held in ignominious captivity to the world, needing some Christian hero to rescue us with wise thrusts at heart and conscience by the sword of the Spirit. Nevertheless, the universality of human ambition and hero-worship teaches a wholesome lesson-that God designed man for great things. To this the whole fallen race bears witness, in the blind instinct and strenuous self,-will which still rebelliously clutch at the destiny sin has forfeited.
Consider the noble being to whom God gave dominion over the earth. His body linked him with the chemistry and mechanics of water, earth and air. Five bodily senses afforded avenues of communion with the physical universe, of whose atomic bricks his earthly tabernacle was constructed. Thus could he decipher the Maker's stamp on even the invisible atoms of matter, and explore the Architect's design in their visible combinations. Involuntary, or vegetative functions of his body-respiratory, digestive and nervous-linked him with the vegetable world. Thus life in lowest terms and simplest phases he could study, an unconscious, mysterious vital force, and read its symbolism of creature existence most useful and fruitful when void of self-will, perfectly passive under creative, directing, and controlling Power. His soul linked him with the animal, where profound lessons in psychology awaited him. What a mirror of his own soul's blind volition, affections, desires and instincts, in the creature that acknowledged his sway! What a picture of his own dependence upon a higher Intelligence! In domestication, development and training of the beast, awakening its dumb affections into touching communion and companionship with himself, what a prophecy of the blessedness of his own submission to the will of God! Last of all his spirit, created in the image and after the likeness of the great Triune Spirit, Maker of heaven and earth, constituted him the offspring and son of God! It was a spark of the divine which God could develop, lift into communion with the heavens, and lead into all truth! The spiritual crown of manhood, it anointed the vice-king for his dominion over the earth under the King of kings!
How sad to see this heroic figure, with title to the whole earth, grasping at the tree of knowledge of good and evil under tutelage of a serpent! Yet such was Adam, and such still is man. All the worldly prizes for which he struggles are worthless baits held out by that same old serpent. The objects of man's ambition turn into apples of Sodom in his hand. The few fading vanities which he has to show for the striving of a lifetime, he leaves behind at last, scourged from the scene of his folly in throes of death and judgment! Solemn, solemn passing away of the fallen lord of earth!
Alas, that a creature still so great should be so vain and degraded! Alas, that one still capable of exploits should consecrate his powers to wickedness! Who does not recognize heroic proportions in the Alexanders, Caesars and Napoleons who move across the world's stage ? But what right mind is there that does not blush, as the blood of the nations cries to God from the ground against these monsters of violence ? In Noah's day there were '' giants " (nephilim) and '' heroes " (gibborim),'' men of renown, "but they filled the earth with corruption and violence, and judgment cut them down. Man is like some mighty ruin, crumbled to a shapeless mass. We recognize the glory of the edifice that was, and the noble uses it might have served, but shudder at the dismantled wreck, the haunts of bats and serpents.
But turn from this fallen giant to the glorious race of heroes arisen from the dead. What mighty one of antiquity could boast a conquest of death and the grave, bursting through the gates of hades and coming up from the underworld ? Yet is not this our boast, fellow-believer? Our race came into being through such an exploit. The youngest babe in Christ can boast of this deed of our infancy-a reality far more wonderful than the fabled exploit of the infant Hercules in strangling two serpents in his cradle. But do we take the praise ? Nay, we ascribe it to the Head of our race, for the keys of Death and Hades hang at His girdle. Yet His glory is ours; the mantle of His power has fallen upon us; the same Spirit that wrought in Him now dwells in us!
We are gibborim of God, with a glorious genealogy We once were like other men, mere wrecks of sin. But Death and Hades, the jailers that hold men in ward for the lake of fire, have not prevailed against our race. We have overcome them with the sling of faith, and one smooth stone from the brook of God's word. Already passed from death unto life, never to come into judgment, we belong to heaven, alive unto God, in the power of Christ's resurrection.
Our genealogy ? Born of God! The life of our race is eternal life of the Eternal God, without beginning, without end. Our nature is. "the divine nature," as eternal as the life. Sons of God of a nobler race than angels, our spirit of sonship is the Spirit of Christ! And not as descended from Adam, through a long line of ancestors, are we born of God. Not someone of our number, but every son of our race, has sprung by divine generation directly from the racial head, " God over all, blessed forever! "
Our destiny ? That of heirs of God! judges of the world! judges of angels! wielders of power over the nations, to rule them with a rod of iron, and break them to pieces like potters' vessels! Destined to reign in heaven from thrones around God's throne; over the millennial silver age to reign from the throne of Christ; and through eternity's golden age to reign for evermore as sons of God who serve Him! The destiny of God's firstborn, with names enrolled in heaven; heroes, who by the Lamb's blood have conquered the world, the hosts of Satan, life, death, sin, the grave, the gates of hades, the lake of fire,- under God, the first order of beings in His universe!
These thoughts bring us to the threshold of a grand, far-reaching theme. We cannot now pursue it further; but each can ask how far his life answers to our glorious calling. Is our faith keen and bright? To faith have we added courage ? Have we the spirit of the overcomer ? Does the energy proper to our race freely pulsate through our veins ? Do we earnestly contend for the faith ? As men expose their lives for the eagle of the empire, or the cross of the legion of honor, do we strive with striving for the incorruptible crown of righteousness laid up for gibborim of God who fight the good fight, finish the course, and keep the faith ? Even though we have been lagging, God grant that heart and conscience may hear the bugle calling, and leap into the battle where our Captain smites the foe!
F. A.