By Beverly Carradine
WE read in the Bible that God was about to induct Moses into a great
work for which he had been preparing him for years. The self-distrustful
man had pleaded his slowness of speech and conscious inability to
perform what was expected of him whether he went to the people or
stood before Pharaoh. It was then God asked him what he had in his hand.
Moses replied, 'A rod.' Then followed at that moment and in succeeding
days a series of most astounding works, wrought at the command of God,
through that same simple rod.
The teaching evidently was that the rod was nothing, as Moses himself
was nothing, but with God using one or both, anything could be done by
them. The main end was to secure a devoted man who would obey God,
and go forth to work for Him with anything that heaven directed. If this
could be done, then nothing could be made something, and something could
equal everything; and all this because God used the nothing or the
something. Such a procedure also had the effect of developing faith on the
part of the worker, keeping the human instrument humble and at the same
time bringing all the glory to God as men saw plainly that He was taking
'things that were not, to bring to naught things that are.'
This divine method has not been discontinued. Whenever God can get a
man completely surrendered, He thus uses him and puts a rod in his hand
for conquest. Sometimes the gifted and great of the earth will not resign
themselves to the will of the Lord, and He is compelled to employ
ordinary and common instruments; in a word, things that are despised,
called weak, and considered nothing in the judgment of the wise of this
world.
God's main effort is to get a man completely given up to Him, who is
willing to say anything, do anything, be anything, and go anywhere that
the Lord commands.
When such a cleansed, humble, perfectly obedient life is found, two things
becomes immediately apparent: first, that God uses the man; and, second,
that the smallest, simplest agencies and instruments in such a man's hands
become powerful and effective. He goes forth with what men would agree
to call weak weapons, and yet accomplishes far more than others who
appear on the field with arms of approved pattern and recognized
superiority.
For instance, we have seen a man who was a graduate of a great university,
also of a theological college, possessed several degrees, was a polished
speaker, dressed immaculately, had elegant manners, was intrusted with
the pastorate of the largest churches, and yet utterly failed to lead men to
salvation in his own church or elsewhere. We have seen this same man
followed in the pulpit or on the platform by another who had never been
to college, and only a short time to school, felt his disadvantage in this and
other particulars, bore himself meekly, preached plainly, and yet in ten
minutes had brought heaven down to earth, and in twenty minutes more
had the altar filled with penitents, while the fire was falling and salvation
rolling like a flood.
At the same time little groups of preachers could be seen discussing the
spiritual phenomenon before them, and asking how was it, and how could
it be. The man had nothing, so to speak, in his hand. The sermon had not a
single new thought, not a flash of genius, no rolling period, or glittering
sentence. It was a mere stick, And yet look at this line of weeping,
agonizing, praying, shouting, rejoicing men and women at and around the
altar!
They were correct in saying the sermon was a stick, but then a Moses was
behind it. The man wielding it was of ordinary powers and maybe slow of
speech, but he had been up in the mountain and seen God. He had taken
the two degrees of the Christian life. He had been to Mt. Calvary and
obtained the pardon of his sins, and then gone to Mt. Zion and tarried in
the Upper Room and received the baptism with the Holy Ghost and fire.
So God filled the man and used him, and the divine-human influence
flamed in what was a stick of sermon, and lo! it became a wand of
marvelous power.
It is simply amazing to look over God's arsenal and see the simple
weapons and instruments which He has used in His kingdom for the
achievement of great victories over His enemies. We find such things as
ram's horns, trumpets, pitchers, lanterns, rods, jawbones, musical
instruments, handkerchiefs, slings, stones, hammers, nails, a vision of
blood, water, a sound in the trees, and other strange and manifestly
inadequate things. And yet with these same weapons we behold toppling
walls, sacked cities, destroyed armies, terrified nations, and kings, queens
and the mighty ones of earth brought down trembling, horrified and
overwhelmed before God.
In the present day the simple instruments are still used, and God is still
getting glory from the very feebleness of the weapon held in the hand of
His servant.
As truly as ever God could ask the question of his devoted and victorious
follower, 'What is that in thine hand which has split seas, cracked rocks,
brought down the lightnings of heaven, and filled the breasts of the hardest
with terror and their lips with mourning?'
The answer would also still be the same, 'It is a rod.'
Yes, it was a mere stick. The sermon, prayer, song, talk, gesture, cry,
shout, look, tone, were nothing in themselves. But a true man had hold of
the stick, and God had hold of the man, and so something always
happened.
We once witnessed the discomfiture of a large camp ground over the failure
for nearly a week of a number of star preachers to bring down the power
of Heaven. One afternoon a man entered the pulpit whose every look
showed that he walked with God. He preached a short sermon, and one
that, examined critically by logicians and orators, would have been
severely handled. They would have pronounced it a poor affair, a mere
stick, and so it may have been, but God made it bloom and blossom, and
break rocks, and call down floods of glory as it was lifted to the skies.
Over two hundred people ran to the altar, and heaven and earth rejoiced
and hell mourned over the work done that afternoon.
All the preachers on that occasion who did not go to the altar examined the
rod in the preachers tent, and said they could not see what there was in the
sermon to produce such a wonderful effect. They failed to recognize the
connection between the stick the man and God.
We recall an old hymn which a circuit preacher used to sing. Weighed in
the poetic and musical balance it would have been found sadly wanting in
some particulars. Critics would have rejected it, but the man never sang the
song with his rapt, faraway look, and Spirit-touched voice but hundreds
were melted.
We remember another preacher whose sermons were simple and ordinary,
but when in preaching he became filled with the Holy Ghost he had a laugh
so loud, exultant, triumphant and indescribably awe-inspiring to the soul,
that it invariably sent a panic to the hearts of sinners and backsliders, and
yet God's people to shouting. No trumpet blast on the battlefield ever
produced a more remarkable effect. Something was incarnated in the laugh
that thrilled Christians, and literally terrified the ungodly and backslidden.
Some fled from the tabernacle, some sat rooted with awe in their seats, and
others came rushing to the altar. God in some way was in that laugh, and
gave it its marvelous power. If the Holy Ghost had left the man, the laugh
would have had a flat, hollow sound, creating hardly a thought, and
certainly no conviction. It would have been a stick again. But the Spirit
was in the man, affecting the membranes of the throat, and hurling out the
laugh upon the listeners with a strange, piercing force and overcoming
power until it was like a projectile shot from a cannon in heaven. The
sound was like a javelin in the heart, or a scepter of authority, waving
before the eyes of the people.
We knew another worker of the Lord who sent forth a peculiar cry when
his heart was full of holy joy. It was so unmistakably genuine, so full of a
great inward rest, and bubbling gladness, with such a note of complete
victory in it, that whenever it shot forth from the lips of the Spirit-filled
man it always brought conviction to sinners and quick, overflowing
responses and shouts from the people of God.
Then we recall a man who had simply the word 'Amen;' but when filled
with the Holy Spirit he said it, or, rather, cried it aloud, it was equal in
service to the charge of a platoon of the White Horse cavalry of heaven. It
always lifted the mercury of the meeting and sent a thrill of hope, faith and
joy over the audience.
Still another we remember who had the simple word 'Yes.' It was a little
word, and is uttered millions of times unnoticed by people, but when that
man with clear, joyous, yet choking, trembling voice, said it, it went
through the audience like a Damascus blade.
We knew still another man, who had a leap. He rarely gave it, and only did
so when he reached a point where words were utterly unable to express
the joy and swelling triumph of his soul, and then he would give one of
those jumps. When it took place unpremeditated and Spirit-inspired, it
never failed to electrify sinner and saint, and God's presence was always
strangely and powerfully felt.
Let the reader gather up the rods and sticks, count them, see how few they
are, and how evidently weak and insignificant they are; then observe what
God has done with them in faithful hands, and the result is to give God all
the glory.
The power of the instrument, of course, sprang from its peculiar
connection of the stick, the man and God. If the man slipped out, the stick
was simply a pole in the forest or lay an overlooked fagot on the ground.
If God slipped out, neither the man nor the rod could do a thing.
We have seen a man who, in his faithful days, had wrought wonders with
mere sticks, yet afterwards drift from God and break the connection. Then
we have seen him use the old-time weapons with which he had achieved so
many victories. The same sermon was preached, the song sung, the shout
raised, the leap made that had been so effective in other days, and lo! they
all fell flat. The stick with God's blessing on it was a wand of power; but
the wand without God became a lifeless fagot.
God long ago taught this painful lesson to the view in the matter of the
ark. They had got to thinking that the power was in the sacred vessel, so
when it was brought into camp prior to a great battle how they shouted.
But God had left them, and that day the Israelites were defeated, the
priests slain, Eli fell dead, and the ark, which without God was nothing but
a box, was taken.
Many we not forget that even Paul is nothing, and Cephas is nothing apart
from Christ? What shall we say, then, of a rod, weapon or instrument of
any kind in their hands?
The stick is nothing without God. The sermon, song, shout and cry are
nothing but puffs of wind without God. Or, they are like handfuls of dust
blown away by the breath of men at whom they are hurled.
But if God is in us, and with us, that despised dust becomes a sandstorm
of the desert, covering caravans. The breath from those consecrated lips is
felt to be a hurricane of moral power. The stick is transformed into a
scepter of power waving before the astonished eyes of the people,
prevailing with God, opening and closing seas of difficulty, and bringing
the fires of heaven to run along the earth until the enemies of the Lord
plead for mercy and the people of God are led forth with a great and
perfect deliverance.
Well may we pray to the Lord to preserve the unity of the trinity of the
stick, the man and God.
