(Colossians 1:27.)
On a hot July day, a lover of nature discovered numbers of animalcula in a vessel of rainwater, which was exposed to the action of the air. It was interesting to watch the graceful movements of these so tiny, sportive thread-like creatures, and to reflect on the display of the Creator's skill in creatures so minute.
In order to learn more of their habits, one of them, which could scarcely measure one eighth of an inch in length, was captured and placed in a hyacinth-glass, where a seedling oak was growing. Upon regaining its liberty the little thing immediately swam to the bottom of the glass, and hid itself in the filmy sediment which had settled there. After a moment or two it was quite at home, darting hither and thither in search of food too microscopic for human eye to discover, and whenever frightened, hiding itself under some shelter almost as tiny as itself. It needed no tending. It fed, gamboled, and rested in safety.
In a few days it had grown to twice its former length, and its surprising rapidity of motion had increased in proportion. There appeared also a strange enlargement toward the upper part of its threadlike form, and its tail was furnished with a fan-shaped fin, while two other fins, more delicate than gossamer, developed themselves on its head. Its motions became more and more rapid, and, surprising to relate, its gravity lessened as its dimensions increased. When an almost invisible thread it had to swim to reach the surface of the water, but now that it measured a quarter of an inch in length, and had grown strangely large about its upper parts, it rose involuntarily to the surface. The old predilection, however, for the darker regions in the sediment at the bottom of the glass was still a ruling principle, and its continual struggle was to dive down to those filmy haunts. As long as it moved its little fins it succeeded, but the moment it rested it began to rise towards the surface. Each hour strengthened this new principle; often it would lodge beneath some fibre of the oak's threadlike root in order to stay its upward course; until, all power of resistance being overcome, it floated motionless on the surface of the water.
A card cut to fit the top of the glass served at once as a protection to the seedling oak and as a cover for its companion. This paper lid was the means of discovering the sequel to our story.
On the next examination, the empty skin of the animalcule was seen floating on the water. Where was its inmate ? Nothing could have destroyed it, and no exit from the glass was possible. A further search was made, when, lo, upon the side of the glass, as high above its former element as it could go, was seen a beautiful and full-sized insect, perfectly developed in all its parts, and ready, upon the opening of its prison door, to fly away on its wings of gossamer, and dance in the glorious sunbeams.
It did appear wonderful that this exquisite form, so foreign to the inhabitants of the water, should have emerged from the animalcule; but though transfigured and so dissimilar in all its habits of life, it was the same creature that once shunned the light and had fondly clung to the fibers of the little oak amid the darkness of its narrow prison. God we know, writes on stones and in the dust the great things of His laws. He stoops to teach us the lesson of resurrection from a grain of corn, as well as from the stars of heaven, and surely none will deem our illustration beneath the lofty lesson to be learned from it.
To the observer, the history of this insect life spoke powerfully of that divine mystery which the apostle sums up in those few weighty words," Christ in you, the hope of glory," which is indeed the very life and power of Christianity.
Let us look at the analogy. The animalcule's birthplace was the water; its destination the sunny atmosphere above. There was no adaptation of the original form for the higher life, but there was the fashioning within of another form totally different. There was a new instinct supplanting the old -a new organization fitting it for its future mode of existence. At first the water was its home, where it found its food and its pleasure; in the end this home became its prison; and within that form grew an instinct which yearned to fly above and breathe the sweet air of the summer's day.
And such is the history of every heir of God. His birthplace is in a world lying in wickedness; his calling by grace is to God's kingdom and glory (i Thess. 2:12). There is no adaptation of his old carnal nature for that which accords with God's presence, but there is the implanting of a new and divine nature, in which the Spirit of God dwells, and becomes in him the vital link with an ascended Christ. Then, that which was his element becomes his prison, while continually increasing within him are the longings of the new nature for the perfect day, when he shall be delivered from the bondage of a fallen and groaning creation, and shall be transformed into the glorious image of the Lord Jesus Christ.
The transition of this insect from the water to the sky was not effected without its having undergone the transformation which fitted it for the change of elements. Vain would have been its hope of soaring in the glory of, the sunbeams had it not received a new principle of life while in its watery home. It might indeed have increased in size; it might have learned to swim to the surface of the water, but not an inch beyond could it have gone; the sunbeam and the sweet atmosphere above would have proved its swift destruction.
How perfect are the works of our Creator ! He who made the sunbeams, prepares creatures, small and large, to enjoy them. And in the work of salvation, we behold the same hand and the same perfection. The purger of His people's sins has entered heaven by His own blood; has prepared in His Father's house a place for them; and through the power of the Holy Spirit, He communicates to them a nature by which they are rendered capable of enjoying that bright and blessed dwelling-place of God. It is the possession of a new and divine nature which alone fits the believer for heaven. It is the growth of that nature which alone gives him power to overcome the old. Useless are human nature's efforts or its stragglings. "The flesh profiteth nothing."
The Christian's victory is Christ becoming all in him, as He has been all for him. When he has learned the worthlessness of all that he is in himself he will learn to live in the Spirit, a life of faith in the Son of God, which consists in "looking unto Jesus" (Heb. 12:2); thus will stronger grow the longings of his soul to pass beyond this lower sphere to be with his Saviour in a scene where evil cannot enter.
The time was when the insect struggled against the light. The hour came when struggling ceased, and earnest longings arose from the conquering nature to break away from its prison and leave the dark waters. It was not by improving the old, but the victory of the new. Not much was seen from without, but mighty was the work within:without, growing weakness – within, growing strength; without, the stillness of death-within, the movements of life; without, dissolution and decay-within, the adornings of beauty and glory, until the perfect day came when the prison doors were burst, and the conqueror winged its flight- left the dark waters to know them no more. And soon, for all the children of God, the longed-for moment shall come when Christ shall burst their prison door, and all that is of nature, of corruption, of the fall, shall be left forever, and Christ shall be admired in them as they are changed into His image. Then shall be ended the sad history of the child of Adam, a history of sin and shame and death. Then shall the full glories of the Second Man, the Lamb of God appear, who by His precious death has borne the penalties that attached to the First Adam standing, to bring His redeemed into His Father's kingdom, in the home of life, where they shall shine forth as the sun, and where God shall be all in all.
Oh to be Christians indeed !-that we might declare that our life and home are in heaven; that, instead of weeping over the perishing things of time and sense, we might rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory, because we see the Day approaching. Is not the prospect fair, Christian reader ? Is not the home in our Father's house sweet ? And shall we not say that it is well to die here and live there? May our hearts reply, "As for me I will behold thy face in righteousness. I shall be satisfied, when I awake, with thy likeness" (Ps. 17:15). Selected
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