1 Sam. 13:12.
King Saul was a young man of great promise. He completely won the heart of Samuel, who never ceased to mourn for him long after his rejection by God. He was, humanly speaking, the man of all others throughout the tribes of Israel suited to be their king. Samuel could ask with absolute confidence as he brought him forward, "See ye him whom the Lord hath chosen, that there is none like him among all the people? And all the people shouted, and said, God save the king " (i Sam. 10:24). God had chosen the very best man in Israel, according to the flesh, one to meet the desires of the people who had asked "a king to judge us like all the nations" (i Sam. 8:5). We notice it was not the craving for the king after God's heart, but in order that they might be like the rest of the nations. We may be assured that the desire to imitate the ways and expedients of the world, whether in the individual or in the Church at large will result in spiritual disaster. The jealous eye of divine love detected the departure of heart, and said, "They have rejected Me that I should not reign over them" (ver. 7). It is not very difficult to see the link between these two phrases-"like all the nations," and "I forced myself.'"
But Saul begins brightly and well, and with all the help that the providence of God and the moral support of Samuel could give. We may rest assured that neither in the case of Saul, nor of any other man, did God ever put obstacles in his way, but quite the reverse. But God will test every man.
In fact, to please God he must walk by faith, and this is ever a test. It cannot be otherwise. Further, faith is found only in the path of obedience-is really shown by that; and obedience to God, we need hardly say, often runs counter to, and is always independent of, the opinions and desires of the natural man. Therefore we see the necessity of the occurrence which brought out what was always in Saul.
The occurrence, too, was simple enough. When Samuel had first anointed him, he provided that after Saul had, as it were, taken the first steps of kingship (see i Sam. 10:7, 8), he should go to Gilgal and there await Samuel who would come and offer peace- and burnt-offerings, and tell him what he should do. Everything was simple and suggestive here. The very place of meeting-Gilgal-would remind him of the days of Israel's victories under Joshua, when no enemy could stand before them. Its spiritual meaning is, of course, deeper, but most suggestive to us. "No confidence in the flesh," is its lesson, impressed by the circumcision of those who had heretofore neglected it in the wilderness. There is no power against the enemy save as Gilgal, the application of the cross to ourselves, is entered into practically.
Then Saul was to wait seven days for Samuel, as priest and prophet, to come. As priest he would offer the sacrifices which are always the basis of our fellowship with God. As prophet he would bring the word of God to Saul, tell him what he should do. How simple and essential was all this. The very need of waiting would test the faith and obedience of the new king, and check that restless spirit so common to vigorous minds.
All this was simple and clear enough; but there were two uncertain factors in connection with it which made the result doubtful. These were the people and Saul himself. The people had already shown a spirit of unbelief and departure from God in desiring a king, which boded ill for any faithfulness on their part. Saul was yet to be proved.
Everything was in confusion. The Philistines, who had been quiet enough during the judgeship of Samuel were making incursions, and threatening the nation with more determination than for many years. The people were scattered everywhere. A little handful followed Saul and Jonathan with trembling reluctance. There was nothing encouraging to sight. But this was the very opportunity for faith to shine out brighter, as it did shortly after in Jonathan and his armor bearer. But Saul had no faith.
When the seventh day was reached, and still Samuel had not appeared, the people melting away and the encroachments of the Philistines were too much for the flesh, something must be done. Ah! how often is that made the plea for the restlessness of unbelief. Something must be done ; and we forget, "In quietness and confidence shall be your strength."
Conscience, however, made itself heard. Saul knew what was the path of obedience. He knew there was but one thing, and that was to obey, to wait until Samuel came, and receive guidance through the word of God, on the basis of priestly sacrifice and intercession. This was the path of obedience- of faith. But what about the people? Ah! faith never consults " the people. " What will the people say or do, is ever the question of unbelief. The people would gather as quickly as they scattered; this had been proven again and again, notably in the history of Gideon. But whether they returned or not, faith never questions. It must obey at all costs. Saul knew this, and it was evidently with the greatest reluctance that he disobeyed the word of God.
But oh! dear brethren, he did disobey that holy Word. Of what avail was his reluctance, his forcing himself? Did not this but witness the more strongly against him? Had he done it carelessly, unthinkingly, he might have pleaded forgetfulness. But his own confession, "I forced myself," tells of disobedience in the face of God's known will. He feared man rather than God; he had no faith.
He is tried and found wanting, and as soon as his disobedience had been clearly proven, Samuel appears. Oh! some one says, if he had but waited that one hour! Rather, if he had only obeyed God. It was not the one hour, but the unbelief that lay back of it, the whole time, and which the one hour but manifested to view. It was not the fatal hour when Judas made his hellish bargain with the priests, but the heart capable of such a thing. That but proved what he was.
Saul had been tested. He could not lead God's people, for he had no faith. So Samuel thus early is compelled to announce his rejection. How solemn and how searching! "Take heed, brethren, lest there be in any of you an evil heart of unbelief, in departing from the living God." Surely we should not seek to take the edge off such an exhortation, nor lose the lesson of this solemn example. Let us seek, with the Lord's help, to make some applications.
Saul himself is the typical professor, enjoying privileges far beyond most. He was above all in direct contact with the word of God through the prophet Samuel. What limit was there to his attainment of the highest degree of excellence? But one thing was needful and that one he lacked. He was without a living faith. So with all professors:they may say "We have eaten and drunken in Thy presence and Thou hast taught in our streets:" nay, they may ask, "Have we not prophesied in Thy name, and in Thy name cast out devils?" But of what avail if they knew not Christ? But what an awfully hardened heart that must be which remains in the darkness though surrounded by light.
The professor has a conscience and knows too much to sin without conviction. When he is allured into sinful paths, he cannot go without a struggle. But will it do for him to plead as excuse, " I forced myself"! Ah no, "out of thine own mouth will I judge thee," will be said to such. But here the application is obvious, and we pass to consider the subject in relation to the believer.
Too often has the individual saint yielded to pressure from without, and been compelled to force himself into paths which he well knew were contrary to God's will. Let the reader pause here and ask himself whether at this very time conscience may not be pleading against this forcing. Some indulgence to the flesh, some association with the ungodly, or some yielding to the ways of the world. Surely the truth of God is sufficiently known, and His Spirit is ever faithful. There must be a fearful amount of this forcing, if we are to judge by the walk and testimony of the saints of God.
But will it do to excuse one's self by saying, "I forced myself," I did it reluctantly? Suppose many of God's dear people have been led away into the world, are we to follow them reluctantly? Will not that reluctance witness to us of the pleading of the Spirit of God, to which we would not hearken?
Let us turn to the assembly of God, the gatherings of His people. If there is one truth more precious and more important than another in this connection, it is the presence and control of the Holy Spirit. When the people of God come together they have, according to Scripture, no human leader to preside and direct the conduct of the meeting. All is to be subject to the Holy Spirit. Of the precious reality of this we need not speak to those who enjoy the privilege of so meeting. But special dangers lurk here, just because of the apparent freedom from restraint. A verse is often quoted, "where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty," and under the plea of this, it. has been argued that much greater freedom should prevail than where this truth is not known.
Unquestionably there should be greater freedom for the Spirit of God, but not for self-will. The restraint upon nature is not a human, but a divine one, and therefore all the greater. How sad, under the plea of liberty, to see careless participation in the meeting, lack of reality in worship, and a restless, busy state of activity, the farthest opposite of that quiet repose or resistless energy, which ever marks the presence of the Holy Spirit.
But let us specify a little. If for any reason worldliness or carelessness have come in, it is natural to expect that the Spirit of God will be grieved, and by His silence, as it were, witness to the conscience of the saints that all is not as it should be. Well do we know this silence, this sense of helplessness which marks not the quietness of rest, but of reproof.
Just here is the danger. If we bow to the reproof and judge ourselves confessing our helplessness, the blessed Spirit is only too ready to lift our hearts again; but if instead of that an effort is made to go on as though all were well, sad indeed is the result. There may be abundant participation; hymns may be sung, scriptures read, and a general activity prevail, and yet all be empty and unprofitable. It is no use to say, "I forced myself," in order to lift the meeting. God is ever worshiped in truth. We do not assemble to "have a meeting," but to realize His presence. If we are in a low state, let us not try to ignore it, but own it, each of us secretly and individually at first, and if the blessed Spirit lay it on us, confess for the whole gathering the feebleness and dulness.* *It need hardly be said that the Lord's table is not the place for specific confessions, save in some glaring evil which obtrudes itself upon the attention of all. On the other hand how much room is there for self-judgment, in connection with the Lord's table. Have I wronged a brother? I am to go to him at the first opportunity, and own my fault. Without doubt much, very much of the dullness in meetings is to be attributed to this and similar causes. We have fed on the husks of this world; we have neglected the word of God, have allowed envy or malice a place in our hearts, and the Spirit is quenched and grieved. He will not go on with worship until we purge ourselves. Surely we are to avoid a merely legal state, but when we have wronged a brother in any way the Scripture is plain "first be reconciled to thy brother, then come and offer thy gift" (Matt. 5:23, 24). If no injury has been done, but the evil is detected in the heart, it must be judged none the less sparingly, because no one but God and ourselves know of it.*
Let us repeat, God must have reality, and our own souls crave the same. Let us not fear a season of quiet, which may at times be just what is needed for individual souls to be fitted for further worship. There are, to be sure, seasons of holy calm and quiet which are the most delightful, and farthest from the silence of which we have just been speaking. We should be slow indeed to break such, unless manifestly led by the Spirit.
We leave this part of our subject, with the prayer that our God will deepen in all our souls the sense of His Holiness, the reality of the Spirit's guidance, and a true brokenness of heart which will offer no hindrance to that blessed One as He leads out our praises to Christ and the Father. May we be kept from both legalism and carelessness, either of which is a direct dishonor to the grace of God. Do we realize, dear brethren, that we have been entrusted with a truth of peculiar and priceless value? What use are we making of the Spirit's presence ? Is it a doctrine or a reality?
So also we might apply this teaching to the general administration of assembly matters. Oftentimes it is considered a mark of spirituality to force ourselves. Special meetings are held, not as a result of interest, but to awaken it. Affairs are conducted with the celerity of business. Even discipline, and cases that need to be approached with the greatest caution, are handled without the sense of dependence upon, and obedience to God. Need we wonder that souls are driven off instead of helped, and that even divisions are precipitated through this forcing?
Let us remember, too, that there are other consciences, and be very tender; we are not to force them any more than our own. How much care, patience, lowliness all this involves, we need not say. In the things of God the flesh must never be reckoned with. May we learn the lesson and ever say to ourselves, even when most sorely tempted to act without God, "Wait on the Lord, be of good courage and He shall strengthen thy heart:wait, I say on the Lord" (Ps. 27:14).