To Him that Hath - Glenn Conjurske

To Him that Hath

by Glenn Conjurske

It is perhaps universal among the sons of men to desire something more or better than we have. Whatever may be said for such desires in the material or temporal realms, they are certainly perfectly legitimate in the spiritual sphere. It is a sign of lukewarmness to be complacent with such things as we have, and to think we have need of nothing. It is a sign of spiritual life and vigor to desire greater things—-a greater sphere, a greater ministry, more or better spiritual fellowship, a more spiritual church, a greater sphere of influence. Now the Bible tells us plainly how to obtain such things. To him that hath, it teaches us, shall more be given. The sure way to obtain more, then, is to have.

But what can this mean? No doubt the meaning is enigmatic, yet it is plain enough for all that. To have means to be faithful with what we have, and so to have it to good purpose. To have is to have some increase, by the faithful use of that which has been committed to us. In the parables of the pounds and of the talents, this is set forth with the utmost clarity. Every man had something, but every man was not faithful with what he had. Every man did not have it to good purpose. Of the man who hid his talent in the earth, the Scripture says, “Take therefore the talent from him, and give it unto him which hath ten talents. For unto every one that hath shall be given, and he shall have abundance: but from him that hath not shall be taken away even that which he hath.” (Matt. 25:28-29). It is perfectly plain, then, that every man has something. “He that hath” is he that hath it to good purpose. “He that hath not” is he that makes no proper use of what he hath.

It is just the same in the parable of the pounds. “And he said unto them that stood by, Take from him the pound, and give it to him that hath ten pounds. (And they said unto him, Lord, he hath ten pounds.) For I say unto you, That unto every one which hath shall be given; and from him that hath not, even that he hath shall be taken away from him.” (Luke 19:24-26). All this is as clear as a sunbeam, and it follows, of course, that the way to obtain more, and to have abundance, is to have what we have to good purpose.

I am perfectly well aware that the proper application of these scriptures is to the salvation of the soul, for the parable of the talents closes with, “And cast ye the unprofitable servant into outer darkness: there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth.” (Matt. 25:30). I am aware also that the more which is given is in the resurrection, and the abundance which is therefore possessed is in the eternal state. Nevertheless, I believe also that God proceeds upon just the same principle in this life. The judgements and rewards of the Almighty are not all reserved for the life to come. Some of them are doled out in the present life, and these doubtless upon the same principles as the rewards which await the life to come.

I hold it as a certain truth, then, that the way to advancement in the present life is faithfulness. The way to obtain more is to have what we have to good purpose.

But to increase our stock by faithful dealing is a long and laborious process, such as ill suits the present impatient age. There are many who can never be content to be faithful in the place and with the portion which God has given them. They pine for more. They look at the five talents of their neighbor, and are discontented with the two which God has given them. Instead, therefore, of settling down to make the most of what they have, we see them scouring the country, or the globe, hunting for a better place, and a larger portion. Modern technology has made this easy. The automobile, the airplane, and all the wonders of electronic communications, have made it easy to scour the globe in search of a better place, and there are many in the church who make this their business, instead of making it their business to be faithful with the place and portion which God has given them. They could do something for God where they are, but instead of this they must hunt for a bigger place. If God has given them but little to do, they might be something where they are. What did Moses more than this in his forty years in the back side of the desert? God surely gave him more in due time, but it did not come to him by his restless seeking. What could Joseph do in the prison-house? God surely gave to him a better place in due time, but this did not come to him by his restless seeking. It came to him as the reward of his faithfulness with the little which he had.

Ah! but the way of Moses and the way of Joseph, which is the way of God, takes time. It requires faith also, and patience besides. And what is so far from the present restless age as “faith and patience”?

Mark, this restless seeking for higher things, for a better place, for a more substantial portion—-though it all be purely spiritual—-is not the work of faith, but precisely of unbelief. We all have something, and it is the way of faith to receive the portion which we have as the allotment of the Lord. This is the obvious fact in both the parable of the talents, and that of the pounds. The Lord determined what every man should receive, and this he did, by the way, according to every man’s several ability, and that ability consists not of skill and capacity only, but of character also. But you think God has mistaken your case, and overlooked your abilities. You are fit for a greater place than he has given you. By all means, then, prove your fitness by making the best of the little which he has given you. If he has given you but a little garden to till, and you think yourself fit to farm a square mile of land, prove your fitness by making your little garden the best in the country. Surely the man that is fit to farm a section can till a tenth of an acre. But instead of this, you neglect your little garden, while you go off to search for a ranch, and probably claim to do this by faith also.

We have nothing against seeking higher and better things, so long as we seek them by faith, from the hand of God, and in the way of patient faithfulness in the smaller sphere in which he has placed us. It is not such seeking which I impugn, but that restlessness which seeks a greater place instead of being faithful in the smaller place in which God has placed us. The man whom God has set in the pew wants the pulpit. He scorns to be faithful in the pew. He scorns to knock on doors, or support the man in the pulpit, or bring others to hear him. He must have the pulpit himself, and if he sees no prospect of having it where he is, he will scour the globe in search of one elsewhere. The man who has a small church must have a big one, and instead of making it his business to be faithful in the small church, to make all that he can of the little which God has given him, he scours the country in search of a bigger church.

And I have commonly observed that it is usually the least fit who are the most determined for a promotion. The ignorant, the unspiritual, the proud, the contentious, the selfish, the belligerent, the hair-brained, all these are possessed of what has been called the preaching fever. They must have a pulpit, and will go anywhere, and sacrifice the truth besides, to obtain one. I am not speaking theories now, but what I have seen with my eyes.

Thus do pride and unbelief and impatience conspire to keep men from their duty—-pride which supposes itself worthy of a better place, or fit for a higher one, coupled with the unbelief which has no confidence that God will give the larger place in his own way and time, and the impatience which is unwilling to wait upon him for it.

But let it be understood, we say nothing of this to encourage lukewarmness, much less compromise. Those to whom God has given but little ought by all means to aspire to more. We say nothing against this. The lack of such aspirations is surely lukewarmness. We frankly doubt that any could aspire more than we do ourselves. But those aspirations ought not to lead us to neglect our duty. They ought to lead us precisely to a long and determined course of faithful plodding in the narrow sphere or the obscure corner in which God has placed us. This much is safe, whatever else our aspirations may lead us to. “Unto every one that hath shall be given,” and to have means neither more nor less than to make the best use of those things which God has committed to us—-to increase our little stock by the faithful use of it. And after all, there may be more of lukewarmness in scouring the globe for a bigger farm, than there is in diligently cultivating the little farm which I have.

But if I would say nothing to encourage lukewarmness, much less would I encourage compromise. There are some places which ought to be left. It is not faith to remain in an apostate church or a compromised organization, on the plea that this is where God has put me. I do not blame men for leaving worldly and unspiritual churches. But I have observed another thing. The restless seeking for higher things quite often takes the actual form of embracing lower things. Men leave a good place—-a spiritual church—-because it fails to give them the personal advancement which they seek, though they are sure to profess some other reason. Having left the spiritual church, they seek out a shallow and worldly one, merely because it offers them a larger place than they had where they were. They strain out gnats, and swallow camels. And all this they do under the guise of faithfulness, of zeal, of devotedness, or of some other spiritual virtue. It is nothing of the sort. It is pride and unbelief and impatience.

Let men aspire all they please to higher and better things, and we shall have nothing to say against it. Only let them do this in the way of faithfulness in the smaller sphere which God has committed to them. There is no better way on earth to prove our fitness for a larger sphere, than to be faithful in a smaller one. And there is no surer way to prove our unfitness than by failing to keep the vineyard which God has given us, while we go about to find a better. Such a course proves only our pride and unbelief and impatience. “He that is faithful in that which is least is”—-and will be—-”faithful also in much.” And so God will reckon when he seeks a man to fill the larger place.

And oh, what a refreshing thing it is to behold faithfulness in a small sphere—-to find a man or woman who, instead of whining over their hard lot or their small sphere, instead of blaming everyone who might be responsible for it, will simply take hold with determination and make all that they can of the little which God has given them. I wish to present to my readers a couple of examples of such faithfulness, and of the glorious fruits of it. Both of these are taken from the chapter entitled “Pioneer Women” in J. B. Finley’s excellent Sketches of Western Methodism.

“When the Rev. Bennet Maxey traveled as a missionary in Georgia, about the close of the Revolutionary war, the following incident occurred, which he related to me with his own lips. It will be recollected that nearly all that country was a wilderness, inhabited by savage Indians. There were but few Methodist societies, and they were widely separated. The missionary, in his long and perilous journeys, could only reach them occasionally, and in doing so would have to encounter almost as much toil and hardship as the emigrant now does in crossing the plains to California. Even then, with all his zeal and perseverance, there were some settlements that could not be reached without a reinforcement of missionary laborers. In one of these settlements, six miles distant from each other, there lived two pious women, who had emigrated to the country from the state of Maryland, where they had been converted and joined the Methodist Church. They felt the loss of the ministrations of the Gospel. No Sabbath brought with it its holy scenes and sanctuary privileges. The time of the people seemed to be occupied, on Sabbaths, in the sports of the chase, or in idle and frivolous amusements. While, however, the neighbors were engaged in the desecration of the holy Sabbath, these two pious women agreed to meet half way between their respective cabins, and hold a prayer and class meeting by themselves. Sabbath after Sabbath these devoted females walked to their appointment in the woods, and there, in the depths of that southern forest, with no eye to see but God, they spoke to one another about their trials, and conflicts, and hopes, and ‘the Lord hearkened and heard, and a book of remembrances was written before him.’ The voice of praise and prayer echoed through the wildwood. They not only prayed for themselves and their neighbors, but they besought the Lord that he would send the Gospel into that wild and destitute region. One Sabbath, while thus engaged in religious exercises, they were overheard by a hunter, who came unconsciously upon their retreat; and there, in the language of the poet, in that

‘Scene where spirits blend,
And friend holds fellowship with friend,’

around that common mercy-seat, they united their supplications. It was holy ground, and a sacred awe came over him, as from the covert of a tree he listened to their praises and their prayers. This hunter’s cabin was not far distant from the place of meeting, and every Sabbath he would, at the appointed time, take his station and listen to the soul-thrilling eloquence of their prayers and songs. He had not, though a roving hunter, been reared altogether without the influences of religion. His pious mother, long since in heaven, had taught him the fear of the Lord, and her instructions and prayers would cross his memory in his wild, erratic course, and like the recurrence of a pleasant dream awaken hallowed memories. On a certain Sabbath he resolved to introduce himself to the strange, mysterious worshipers; and, accordingly, after they had concluded their meeting, and were taking leave of each other to return to their homes, he appeared before them, and in tones of kindness invited them to meet at his cabin on the next Sabbath, and he would collect his neighbors.

“Here was a trial which they had not anticipated. But they regarded it as an interposition of divine Providence in their behalf; and though it would be a heavy cross, requiring the greatest amount of moral courage and endurance, to meet the rough and sturdy backwoodsmen, and hold meeting in their midst, they must not deny their Master in refusing to enter this open door. It was, accordingly, noised abroad, that two women were going to hold meeting at the hunter’s house; and as the thing was entirely new, the whole neighborhood went. The husbands of the two pious and devoted women, not knowing it was their wives, but being filled with curiosity at the singular announcement, were among the number of those who took their companions with them to the place of meeting. Their astonishment can better be imagined than described, when they saw them take their places in the cabin as the women that were to hold meeting on the occasion. One of them read a chapter in the Bible, which she did in a clear, strong voice, and then gave out a hymn, which was sung by the two and the congregation to some familiar tune; after which they kneeled down, and the one who had read the Bible offered up a most fervent and deeply-impressive prayer to God, in behalf of the congregation assembled. After prayer was over they united in singing one of those songs of Zion, with which they had made the woods ring at their Sabbath meetings previous. Many a heart was touched, as the divine strains rolled over the wondering assembly, and the tear stole down many a rough, sun-burnt face. When this was ended, the other rose tremblingly but firmly, as with the heart of a giant, and commenced telling the plain, simple story of her conversion. As she spoke, her voice assumed a majesty and a power truly wonderful. God sent down his Spirit and attended it with power to the hearts of the audience; and first the hunter, and then the two husbands, unable any longer to repress their feelings, broke out in loud cries for mercy. Several, while she was speaking, fell, as if smitten with lightning, to the floor, others fled from the house in the greatest consternation. These pious sisters in the Lord were not frightened by this exhibition of divine power; for although it was farthest from their anticipations, yet they had been familiar with such scenes in the days of their youth. They knew ‘it was the Lord’s doings, and it was marvelous in their eyes,’ and they, therefore, commenced singing and praying with the slain of the Lord. It was not long till several were happily and powerfully converted to God, and this increased the power; and they were set immediately to work to pray for penitents and sinners. The work spread, mighty consternation fell upon all the people, and far and near, those who had not attended at the beginning flocked to the place of prayer. The hunter and his wife, and the two husbands were all converted, and the meeting continued with but little intermission, night and day, for two weeks. It was what might properly and most significantly be denominated a protracted meeting. The news of the wonderful work flew as on the wings of the wind, to the distance of forty or fifty miles, when it reached the ears of brother Maxey, who immediately started for the scene. When he arrived, he found the two faithful female heralds of the cross still on the ground, fighting most manfully the battle of the Lord. They had already received forty new recruits, all converted and happy in the love of God, and they were all living, speaking witnesses for Jesus—-not a still-born child in all their ranks. Scarcely had the itinerant reached the scene of action, than, like the old soldier, at the sound of battle, the power of God came on him, and he entered the ranks of God’s army with a shout of victory and triumph. They at once recognized his spirit, and hailed him as a fellow-soldier; but how great was their rejoicing when they found him to be one of Immanuel’s officers, in the great army of God! To him the sisters cheerfully intrusted the leadership, and he led them forth valiantly to glorious war. With a voice like a trumpet, and a love for God and zeal for souls which was like fire in his bones, he went from neighborhood to neighborhood proclaiming salvation, and the work spread and prevailed, so that before the revival ceased, it had covered a sufficient extent of country to form a good large circuit, in the entire bounds of which there never had been preaching before.

“And now, dear reader, what a field for reflection is here!—-a wonderful manifestation of the power of God, through the agency of two pious, heroic, Christian women. How many would have said, could they have witnessed these two devoted females, commencing their religious exercises at that meeting, where were crowds of ungodly men, collected from all parts of the country, and impelled by mere curiosity at the novelty of the thing, ‘How improper! how unlike the decency and order which the apostle Paul enjoins should be observed in religious worship! And then, how shocking to delicacy, for women to speak in public, especially in such a mixed assembly!’ But we see in this, as in other similar manifestations, that God’s ways are not as our ways; and that He who has chosen the weak things of the world to confound the mighty, and things that are naught to bring to naught things that are, that no flesh might glory in his presence, the excellency of the power being of God and not of man, selected those two females as the chosen instruments of his Holy Spirit, to bear the messages of mercy and salvation to that dark and destitute region. We are obliged to concede this, or to admit what is abhorrent to every Christian; namely, that the Holy Spirit will sanction and set its seal to a work brought about by improper agencies.

“Again: what Christian, who even believed that it was right and proper, and perfectly in accordance with that ‘decency and order’ recommended by the apostle, for women to exercise their gifts in singing, and prayer, and Christian conversation or exhortation, would have had faith to believe that any good would have resulted from such a meeting? Yet these Christian females had faith, and according to that faith so it was to them. Besides, the circumstances were such as to justify such a procedure. In their neighborhood there were no ministers of the Gospel, and no Sabbath and sanctuary privileges; and impressed by the Spirit to pray the Lord of the harvest that he would send forth laborers, they went to prayer, and God heard and answered in a way that they had not anticipated, and that human reason could not have divined.”

Now these women might have pined and whined over their hard lot, might have envied others who had more than they had themselves, might have put all their energies into seeking another location, or wishing for another location, where they could have the blessings of preaching and Christian fellowship, but none of this they did. Instead of this they faithfully made the most of the little they had. They had their little to good purpose, and to them that had, more was given, and indeed they had abundance.

The next example is even more striking, for this woman had not even a friend with whom to meet. She had in fact almost nothing, but instead of pining away for her lack, or restlessly seeking a better situation, she faithfully made the best of the almost nothing which she had.

Finley continues, “We will relate another incident of female devotion, which occurred in the bounds of the Ohio district. In the year 1817, while we were traveling with a fellow-itinerant, in passing along between the waters of Oil creek and Scrub Grass, which empties into the Alleghany river above Pittsburg, we came in sight of an old dilapidated log church. The sight of an old church gone into decay, never fails to awaken in our minds many reflections, and we never pass one without feeling an irrepressible desire to understand something of its history. My companion being somewhat acquainted with the history of this old church, related to me the following, in connection with the same: At an early day, in the settlement of that part of the country, which was then denominated the Holland purchase, a small Methodist society was organized by pioneer Methodist preachers. After some time the society built that log church, and flourished for several years. In progress of time, however, some of the old members died, and were buried in the graveyard close by the sanctuary, and others moved away, till it was dropped from the list of appointments as a preaching-place, and only one member of the class and society remained. She was a mother in Israel, and, like the prophet, she was left alone to sigh over the desolations of Zion. She loved the old sanctuary, and though deserted, she seemed to realize an increasing attachment as time wrought its inroads upon its doors and windows. Invariably on the Sabbath, when her health and the weather would permit, did she repair to this deserted temple and worship her God. There, in holy meditation, did she recall the scenes of her youth, the holy seasons, happy days she had spent with her brethren and sisters, some of whom were sleeping quietly in the adjoining church-yard, while others were far away. Here she would sit, and read, and sing, and pray, and talk to her invisible God and Savior. At length, it was noised abroad that she was a witch, that the old church was haunted with evil spirits, and that she met there to hold communion with the spirits of darkness, and thus increase her power of evil over the bodies and souls of those around her. She was old and feeble, and heard of their surmises, but she remembered that her Master was charged of being possessed by the devil, and she heeded them not, but continued her Sabbath visits to the consecrated place. At length, two wicked young men of the neighborhood determined to watch her, and entering the church some time before she arrived, they climbed up and secreted themselves in the clapboard loft. After remaining there a short time, the old lady entered the church and took her seat by the rude altar. The young men, as they afterward related, experienced some sensations of fear, seeing, as they supposed, the old witch draw from her side-pocket an old leather-enveloped book, but their fears soon subsided when they heard her read, instead of an invocation to the spirits of darkness, the story of the widow of Sarepta. After she had finished, she drew from her other pocket an antiquated-looking hymn-book, from which she read that inimitable hymn,

‘Jesus, I my cross have taken,
All to leave and follow thee;
Naked, poor, despised, forsaken,
All I am is lost in thee.”’

After having sung this beautiful hymn, which she did with a trembling, but sweet, melodious voice, she fell upon her knees and poured out her full heart to God in prayer and supplication. As friend holds fellowship with friend, so did she talk with her heavenly Father. She told the Lord all her complaints and grievances, and lamented the sad condition of the old and young of the neighborhood, who were alike on the road to perdition. She then alluded to the happy seasons she had enjoyed in that place, when Zion shed her holy light and converts crowded her gates. In piteous strains she lamented her desolations, and prayed that the Lord would build up her waste places, and again crowd her gates with living converts. She prayed especially for those who cast out her name as evil, that the Lord would change their hearts. She prayed, also, for the young and giddy multitude, who were forgetting God and living as if there were no hell to shun, no heaven to pursue. While she was praying God’s Spirit was at work on the hearts of the young men on the loft, and they began to weep and cry for mercy. The old lady was not startled; she seemed to realize, while praying, an answer to her prayer; and as the Savior invited Zaccheus to come down from the tree, because on that day salvation had come to his house, so did she invite those young men to come down from their hiding-place. They obeyed her directions, and there at that altar, where, in other days, she had witnessed many conversions, before that Sabbath sun sank behind the western hills, they found pardon and salvation. From this hour the work of God commenced; the meetings were continued, and a flourishing Church was raised up, and the old dilapidated log meeting-house was again made to resound with the happy voices of the children of Zion.”

There is great moral power in such examples as these, but we wonder how many are likely to follow them in this day of automobiles and airplanes, of radio and television, and of the telephone and the so-called “internet.” The woman of whom we have just read really had little choice but to settle down in the long road of patient faithfulness where she was, whereas all the capabilities of modern technology have made it easy for us to do otherwise. Those capabilities have thus ministered to all the worst propensities of our nature, inducing restless discontent in the place of patient faithfulness. But no matter about that. It has always required self-denial to rest in the Lord and wait patiently for him, and if the present age offers more opportunity for unbelief and impatience, this may render faith and patience more difficult, but surely not impossible. Even in the primitive days of the patriarchs, there was a Hagar at hand to answer the unbelief and impatience of Abraham and Sarah, but faith and patience would have refused such a shift. If the present age has made unbelief and impatience easier, it may require more resolution and determination to walk in the path of faithfulness, but faith and patience will shine the brighter, for the greater facility with which we might relinquish them. Our duty has not changed, though it has become easier to abandon it.

And there are many cases even in the present day of limitless opportunity, in which the Lord simply shuts us up to patient waiting upon him, as he did Joseph in the prison-house. Years ago I met a man out West, who comes to mind as an example of this. He was an Independent Baptist preacher, and a man of weight and ability—-a good preacher, though too much occupied with political matters. He had a large house, and a good meeting-house, but his regular congregation consisted of no more than his own family—-fortunately a large one. His testimony was despised and rejected in the little town in which he lived. He of course desired greater things, and had often sought them, not by greater determination and effort where he was, not by watering his little field with more tears, not by plying it with more earnest prayers, not by greater diligence or faith, but by leaving his little sphere for a larger. Yet he told me, “Every time I have tried to leave this town, the Lord has sent me back here like a whipped puppy with his tail between his legs.” It was well the man could see this as the hand of God. This is the viewpoint of faith. Unbelief will rather blame those human beings who thwart its plans, never seeing the hand of God in it, and never learning its lesson.

God is thus able to force us to faithful plodding—-and we may thank him for it when he does, for he will not always do so. If we will not be an example of faith and patience, the Lord may grant us our wishes, and make us an example of unbelief and impatience. We have seen many sacrifice principle for the sake of a greater sphere, and it is not too much to say that the light which was in them became darkness. This we have seen in many of the leading men of modern Evangelicalism, and we have seen it in lesser men also. God might have forced them to remain in a smaller sphere, as he kept Joseph in the prison, but the Lord has no obligation to do so. If we are always kicking at the door, he may allow us to kick it open. If we are always tugging at the reigns, he may let go of them, and allow us to take our wayward course. The Lord does not restrain every man who tugs at the reigns. It may be there is a mixture of faith and unbelief in most of us, but in some faith prevails, and unbelief in others. Where the restless discontent of unbelief prevails, God may allow it to take its course. Where faith and submission prevail, God may hold us with a tighter reign, in spite of some mixture of the impatience of unbelief.

Yet we think it more honorable for us to take up our cross of our own accord, and to make it our chief business, not to obtain what we have not, but to have to good purpose what we have. It is our best wisdom, not to restlessly seek for a promotion, but to do the job which God has given us as faithfully and diligently and earnestly as we can. God will give the greater field, not to him that restlessly seeks it, but to him that diligently cultivates the smaller field which God has given him already, for “unto every one which hath shall be given.”

Glenn Conjurske