Christ's Estimate of Christian Service.
By E. S. Herrick
THERE is nothing in respect to which we more egregiously deceive ourselves than in the standard which we apply to work done for Christ. We adopt the figures of the counting-room; we bring in the rules of arithmetic; we count the men we have influenced; we measure the buildings we have erected. I once knew a man who kept in a book the number of the loaves of bread he had given away, and of the garments he had distributed to the poor. And now and then he used to get out the book and add up the sums total, and congratulate himself on the charities he had done. And men thought, as no doubt he thought himself, that he was a very liberal man. It is a grand mistake. That is the Judas method of estimation, my friends, though we may not make the same deduction that he did. We say figures never lie. They do—in the estimate of Heaven. What are two mites worth on earth? Just a farthing. What were the widow's two mites worth in Heaven? More than all the shekels which the rich cast into the Lord's treasury. What is a cup of cold water worth? Not much here, but given to a disciple in the name of the Master, it has untold value there. I would just like here to direct your attention for a moment to one of those delicate hints of Scripture, which the eye of man overlooks; which commentators never think of, but which are sometimes turned up almost casually, as the miller of California kicked up on the toe of his boot the golden grains which disclosed inestimable wealth. "Now a certain man was sick, named Lazarus, of Bethany, the town of Mary and her sister Martha." Mark that. How was Bethany known on earth? How did men speak of it up and down Palestine? I know not. Perhaps as towns are known now. As a town famous for its wealth, for its intelligence and culture; its institutions of art and learning; its famous men; its schools and scholars; its learned rabbis; for the beauty of its scenery. But how was it known to Jesus and his disciples? How was it known in Heaven? As the town of Mary and her sister Martha. And why? Not because of any great deeds which these women had done; not because they stood at the head of its public institutions; not because they were its wealthiest citizens, and owned a castle upon its edge, but because of the simple fact that there Jesus found a welcome reception, and a loving service. There is nothing much more discouraging than the views we sometimes get in looking back over the past years of our discipleship, and asking, What have I done for the Master? How the bulk of all our doings shrinks and shrivels and vanishes to an insignificance, a nullity. But there is a glorious antidote, if we can only take it. Mean as all the service has been, computed by any earthly arithmetic, failed as we often have when judged by earthly methods of measurement, let us keep in mind the Saviour's method of testing his disciples' service. What has been the spirit and purpose of it? What has been the intention? That is the standard of Heaven. And while we ought to plan to do great things for the Master (nothing ought to seem too great or too arduous, or too costly), remember this, that the simple desire and purpose to please and honor and serve him, will save your most ordinary work from being contemptible, and will give to your greatest service a beauty and acceptableness which bulk and bigness can never give. "For thou desirest not sacrifice, else would I give it. Thou delightest not in burnt-offerings. The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit."—E. S. Herrick, D. D.