Do We Provoke the Lord to Jealousy*

* A talk given at the Michigan workers' camp meeting.

WHAT can a cloistered editor say to a group like this that comprises men and women of varying age and total experience, who differ one from the other in natural endowment and cultivated talents, each from a unique background of family heritage and upbring­ing, all differing somewhat in vision and spiritual maturity, and everyone confront­ing his problems with varying degrees of mastery?

There is one thing of which I am con­fident—there is not one worker in this group who has not felt the mighty moving power of that love of which the cross of Calvary is the ultimate symbol. And it is the compulsive power of a divine life laid down that draws us to heaven and to one another this morning. For Jesus said, 'And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all men unto me" (John 12:32).

And from our own particular valley of vision we have seen Him lifted up, and "we all, with open face beholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord, are changed into the same image from glory to glory even as by the Spirit of the Lord" (2 Cor. 3:18).

Unfortunately, however, there are some in the service of God who feel they are not making any progress. They have recog­nized talents, natural graces, and high aspir­ation to put them to use for the glory of God. But when, like Samson, they go forth to perform exploits for the Lord they find themselves shorn of their strength.

Not long ago there appeared in the As­sociated Press dispatches the story of a man who had left his car on an empty parking lot one night. Next morning he climbed in and stepped on the starter, but there was no response. He got out and lifted up the hood, and to his amazement discovered that thieves had actually stolen his engine dur­ing the night.

The car looked all right. It was a late model and stood shining in the morning sun. It had a beautiful driving panel—but­tons for every convenience—but they were useless with the motive power missing. The link between the gas potential and the wheels was gone.

The incident may be an imperfect anal­ogy in illustrating our spiritual impotence, but how common an experience it is that we let preoccupation with minor interests steal from us efficiency in major concerns. Our best is sacrificed to the promotion of things good and acceptable but not most important. Like the reply of the Mississippi River boat captain who was asked why his boat was floating with the tide, "We have plenty of water to make steam, but it ain't bilin'."

David said in Psalm 62:11 that "power belongeth unto God." It is one of our fundamental beliefs, and we preach it with great confidence, for we recognize that no church movement can succeed without that spiritual power. No methods, however well organized, can reach holy objectives without the power that comes down from God.

Many fair projects are begun in the name of the Lord but are not indited by His power. I read not long ago about a five-dollar bill that had done a lot of good. It had an active circulation, having paid part of a widow's rent, bought food for some poor children, made up the lack in a church school teacher's salary, and helped out on the church debt. The treasurer took it to the bank for deposit, but when the teller scrutinized it under a glass he smiled rue­fully and said, "I'm sorry, but this bill is counterfeit. I shall have to hold it for the Federal inspector of currency."

That piece of currency seemed to have all the credentials of United States legal tender. But it lacked authority, the charac­ter of a genuine five-dollar bill. All its good deeds had not added to its value or desir­ability. As I contemplate that incident I think I know the meaning of the Lord's admonition about those in the judgment who will say, "Lord, Lord, have we not done wonderful things in Thy name?" And He will say, "Depart from me. You are not genuine. I never knew you."

So many things done for God may wear a fair aspect but be unacceptable to Him because they were done with a wrong mo­tive or without the sanction of His express command. Great charities are done to be seen of men. Tremendous effort is made to make a fine showing on the right side of the ledger—a fine record of baptisms, but some are not fully instructed in the message: a splendid report of bona fide literature sales, but a trail of resentful peo­ple who feel the books were not honestly represented. Every goal is reached, but the ministry to vainglory obscures the intended devotion to God. The power that belongs to God was not in any of this activity be­cause it was not called for.

How is it that we lose God? Why is it that apparently godly men sometimes lose Him? Job was a perfect man beloved of God, yet out there on the city ash heap he was obliged to confess, "Oh that I knew where I might find him!" (Job 23:3). How easy it is to lose contact with God—in the nation, in the church, in the home, in the human heart.

We certainly are most likely to lose God when we are too self-sufficient to spend much time before Him in prayer and wor­ship. We lose Him when we choose experi­ence to solve our problems instead of heav­enly wisdom, when we choose organiza­tional power instead of God's counsel, when we choose worldly procedures in­stead of God's revealed plans.

In this neon-lighted, push-button civili­zation in which man has so many ways to extend and multiply his powers, we all too often forget the tremendous importance of being connected with God's plans, God's purposes, God's power. Isn't it strange that this should be so when there are such great assurances in the Bible as this one in Jere­miah 32:27: "I am the Lord, the God of all flesh: is there any thing too hard for me?"

When does self-reliance become pre­sumption? When does the arrogance of hu­man knowledge become an offense to God? How does He look upon our idolatry of intellect and the enthronement of science as contributory to our highest good?

Dr. Wernher von Braun, director of the Development Operations Division of the Army Ballistic Missile Agency, was asked not long ago: "Do you feel that modern man worships too much the golden calf of material progress?"

This was his reply: "Nothing has prob­ably retarded human progress more than idolatry of our own achievements. By wor­shiping our own scientific accomplishments, we kill humility. By adoring our own tech­nological advancement, we kill the urge for improvement. In spite of all our scientific enlightenment we know more mysteries to­day than when the technological revolu­tion began. God retains the same position in our modern world that He held before we began probing His creation with tele­scope and cyclotron."

Again I ask, When does self-reliance be­come presumption? This question made a deep impression on me some time ago when Paul's question to the Corinthian church struck me with peculiar force. Paul asks in 1 Corinthians 10:22: "Do we pro­voke the Lord to jealousy? are we stronger than he?"

It came to me one night after a number of unsuccessful attempts to solve a problem that had been plaguing me for weeks. It suggested to me the picture of a benign and all-powerful heavenly Father ready and able and willing to do more for His people than they can ask or think, standing on the side lines with folded arms while those who profess to love Him try to solve the unsolvable and to do memorable exploits without His aid. Like the foolish kings of Israel in olden time we go down to Egypt for help instead of seeking God's holy arm of strength.

As soon as I saw this in my own experi­ence I yielded my heart and will to the Lord for His power and purpose, and my problem was solved almost overnight. Yes, Pastor Paul, I think we must surely provoke the Lord to jealousy by our turning to un­worthy sources of power.

Why is it that we sometimes court the foolish idea that we must exhaust all our own wisdom, all our own resources, all our own ingenuity and energy, before calling upon the Lord for His wisdom, His guid­ance, His plans, His power? It is manifested in our practice of spending five minutes in prayer and five hours wrangling out solu­tions to problems in committee meetings. Committee counsel is good, but the Advent Movement was launched on a program of all-night prayer meetings by men and women who mistrusted their own wisdom and experience.

One of the most deceptive half-truths in the world is the popular maxim, "The Lord helps those who help themselves." It seems to mean, Do the best you can, and when you can do no more, ask the Lord to come in and help. That is to say, When you have done all you can and made a mess of things, the Lord is pleased to come in and straighten it out.

If Moses had followed that counsel, he would have been stopped at the Red Sea, with Pharaoh's armies triumphant. If Gid­eon had conceived such an idea as born of God, he would have been defeated with his 23,000 men. No, there comes a time when it is an honor to God to heed His admoni­tion, "Stand ye still, and see the salvation of the Lord" (2 Chron. 20:17). He wants to go with us all the way, not merely as an auxiliary in time of trouble.

Do we fail to take hold of the arm of God's strength because we are afraid of His compulsions? We may be sure the compul­sive love of Jesus will always be an intelli­gent, illumined force in our lives, undefiled by selfish considerations. It will never make us do anything bizarre or unworthy of the dignity of Christian faith.

This week someone handed me a tele­phone number and asked me to call. When I did so I heard an almost unintelligible tape-recorded message by a woman leader of one of the emotional snouting cults down in our city. The voice was high-pitched, and in spots it shrieked. Sometimes it sang. It was a travesty on spiritual counsel. God's love does not inspire such performances. The compulsion comes from another spirit.

James wrote to the church: "The wisdom that is from above is first pure, then peace­able, gentle, and easy to be intreated, full of mercy and good fruits" (James 3:17).

It was this wisdom Jesus manifested. And if the divine compassion is moving within us, we shall understand and share some of the compulsions that were upon Him. How often do we see that word must in the New Testament record: "Wist ye not that I must be about my Father's business?" Is that the compulsion that moves us as workers?

Hear the Saviour again and again use that compelling word "must." "I must preach the kingdom of God to other cities also" (Luke 4:43). "I must work the works of him that sent me, while it is day" (John 9:4). "Other sheep I have, . . . them also I must bring" (John 10:16). "Even so must the Son of man be lifted up" (John 3:14).

His treatment of Zacchaeus came out of His divine compulsion. "Zacchaeus, make haste, and come down; for to day I must abide at thy house" (Luke 19:5). Why must He? Because Zacchaeus was worth saving. What did it cost the Lord? Oh, only an hour or two on His way to the cross to break bread with a man dving in his sins.

So under divine compulsion, if we take hold of God's strength we too may call men out of trees or out of the countinghouse as Jesus did Matthew, from their fishing nets as He did Peter, out of their en­trenched prejudices as He did Paul, or out of their timidity and fear as He did Nic-demus.

One thing is sure; whether we work with Him or not, God is mightily moving on the spirits of men today. A man whom I have known for years, a compulsive gambler who has done time in four penitentiaries, re­cently was baptized into this faith. A mother wrote me not long ago confessing to dishonesty in an examination in college seventeen years ago. Her small son was ill and she wanted to clear the way in her own heart before she called the elders to pray. These and many other circumstances have made me rejoice in the confidence of David, "God is my King of old, working salvation in the midst of the earth" (Ps. 74:12).

In view of this assurance so abundantly sustained in your experience and mine, why "do we provoke the Lord to jealousy? are we stronger than he?" (1 Cor. 10:22.)