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WHAT IS GOD’S WILL?
Chapter 1
In a recent investigation of a certain public
institution, a blind child was bound shut up in a cage. His keepers
had made this cage, and had shut the child in it, so they could
avoid giving to him the care and attention that he otherwise would
have required. Though he was six or seven years of age, there had
been little normal development of his intelligence, because he had
been kept from contact with most of the things about him, outside
his cage. He did not even know the ordinary articles of furniture,
for since he was blind, he could learn only by touch and hearing.
When he had been removed from his cage, and given the freedom of an
apartment, he went about handling all the objects with which he come
in contact, and constantly saying, “What is this? What is this?”
Everything new excited his interest, and drew forth
questions. These questions revealed in him a something that lies
inherently in all of us. Every new object or substance, every new
experience or emotion, is the progenitor, when presented to our
minds, of a brood of new questions. Our curiosity and interest are
aroused, our minds are made alert, and our thirst for knowledge
impels us to seek an understanding of that which is new. When our
questions are answered, the mind is satisfied. If they are not
answered, they will probably recur again and again, as the mind
searches for a solution.
The material realm holds many mysteries that challenge
our attention. It is not strange, therefore, that the spiritual
realm should also hold many locked secrets, the key with which we
may gain access to them we feel impelled to seek. He, who approaches
the threshold of spiritual things, finds the door locked before him,
and turns away with the thought that it is useless to try to
understand that realm, is more foolish than he who turns back from
all the mysteries of the natural world.
Is there a God? If so, what kind of a being is he? What
are my relations to him? What is his attitude toward me? These, and
a thousand other similar questions, at times arise spontaneously in
our minds. Somewhere along the path of life they confront us. Upon
the way in which we answer them depends to a great extent, the
outlook of our lives and the attitude of our souls. Can these
questions be answered with any certainty? Can we really know whether
there is a God? And if there is one, what is he like? What is his
character? What is his attitude toward us? And what is our duty
toward him? Or, must all these questions remain unsolved riddles?
While the Deity is veiled in clouds of mystery, and while
many of his purposes and ways are inscrutable to us, we deem it no
more improper to inquire reverently and earnestly as to his being,
character, and will, than to investigate any other legitimate
subject. It is manifest that the same laws of evidence establishing
other facts are capable of being applied to such an inquiry with
good prospect of yielding satisfactory results. Through this
process, the author has arrived at some conclusions, which he
believes are fully justified by the evidence, and which agree in
substance with the conclusions of a multitude of other godly people.
While he has explored but a small portion of the great continent of
truth, he believes that he has something of interest and value to
report. Proceeding, then, we inquire “the reason for the hope that
is within us.”
We find, in our physical being, many appetites and
desires. For each such appetite or desire, we find in the natural
world about us an answer. There is provision in nature, or, at
least, there exists in nature, something to gratify and satisfy each
and every natural appetite, and every such desire may find in nature
the responding element for its fulfillment. Each appetite and
desire, therefore, has it correlative. Hence, each appetite or
desire has within it the assertion of the existence of that which
will satisfy or gratify it.
Within ourselves are other desires not capable of being
gratified with natural things, but which look to a different realm
for satisfaction. They reach into the sphere of moral and spiritual
being, for they cannot be satisfied with material things any more
than hunger can be satisfied with stones, or thirst with dust. In
every life, this outreach of moral and spiritual desire is found at
some time, and it usually asserts itself at frequent intervals. When
desire thus looks to moral or spiritual things, only moral or
spiritual things can gratify it. Some of these classes of desires we
can gratify ourselves, but as for the greater part of them,
satisfaction cannot be found in self, or from self. Those who
repress and silence their desires may cease to realize the direction
of those desires, or what is required for the gratification of them.
Then, they may think that they find in themselves and in nature all
that they require for satisfaction. But those who rightfully analyze
their desires, or those who by any means become conscious of the
direction and nature of those desires, have in their consciousness a
sense of the deep significance of them. That inner consciousness
speaks with finality, and with convincing utterance. Those who
cultivate moral and spiritual desires, by seeking their
gratification, become most conscious of their inability entirely to
satisfy them from within. Only those who neglect, repress, or
destroy their inner spiritual yearnings fail to feel the need of
relations to corresponding elements from without, including
relations to the source of responding, satisfying, correlative of
desire.
The desire for high and holy things proves there is a
source of such things, and proves by analogy, at least, that there
can be a drawing from that source of whatever may be necessary to
supply that deep need of our higher nature. The mind’s and heart’s
sense of need of a God proves that there is a God, even as the
appetite for natural food proves that there is natural food to
satisfy that appetite, or even as the thirst for water proves that
there is water to gratify and satisfy the desire. The human heart is
never at rest until it is trusting in some supreme power greater
than that which is has within itself. It is never satisfied until it
draws its satisfaction from a source which it feels is infinitely
higher and nobler than itself. This inner sense of the kind of a God
the soul needs, proves what kind of a God exists. Gross and sensual
ideas of God come from allowing ourselves to be so influenced by
those parts of our being that may be satisfied with natural things
that we seek only the fulfillment of natural desires. The savage
believes in a savage and sensual god, because he lives almost
entirely in the realm of the natural. But wherever, even in the
state of savagery, a man rises to think and desire higher and nobler
things, his idea of God rises accordingly. When once his desire, and
with it his idea of God, has risen above the natural, he knows from
thenceforth of a realm of being higher and nobler than mere natural
things.
The true idea and consciousness of God must come from
that higher part of self which cannot find its gratification purely
in natural things. An idea of God coming in this way is always pure,
and corresponds with the true need of the soul. When I know my
soul’s own deepest desires and highest aspirations, its most earnest
out-reaching that cannot always be formulated in words, it’s
unsatisfied yearnings that run out to that which is greater than
itself, then I know God as he is, because I know what I need him to
be. There is no surer knowledge than that wordless voice that speaks
in the depths of our souls.
There are those who tell us that there is no God; there
are others who tell us that there is a God, but that we can know
nothing of him. Such assertions can be made only by those who have
stifled their spiritual desires, and have turned a deaf ear to the
cry of their own hearts. For to know ourselves, is to come to a
knowledge of God, because God must answer to that which is greatest
and noblest within us. Most persons feel that they know there is a
God, that they have the same evidence for knowing him that they have
for knowing anything else. That inner consciousness, the testimony
of their own being, is to them fairly convincing, even without the
addition of those other arguments and evidences that may be brought
out to prove God’s existence and nature.
To be sure, we cannot know spiritual things with our
physical senses; so we cannot thus know God. Neither can we know
honor, fidelity, friendship, the existence of angels, nor, in fact,
any mental or spiritual fact through our physical senses alone. But
we are not limited to these physical senses as the medium through
which all knowledge reaches us. There are some things that we learn
which are even contrary to our physical senses, and some things that
in the spiritual world are contrary in principle to natural things.
Nevertheless we are capable of learning them.
But, has God a will toward man? Interest in or obligation
to others affects the attitude of our will toward them. Since man is
the handiwork of God, we may naturally expect God’s will to be
actively engaged in relation to man. The further fact that man is
conscious of obligation to and dependence upon God is abundant
evidence that he not only can know, but does know God’s will toward
him. The consciousness of obligation to God’s will can rest on
nothing but a knowledge of that will. So where there is this sense
of obligation to his will, there is likewise the sense of what his
will is.
Some people are much more conscious of God’s will than
are others; hence, they are more conscious of obligation. There are
reasons why some know more of God’s will than others. Some have
sought to know his will, while others are indifferent or even
hostile to it. Even those who are hostile know it in a measure, or
they could not be hostile to it. Some men know science, not
accidentally, but because they have devoted themselves to an
intelligent study of it. They have taken a course that brings them
to such knowledge. Some know the will of the president of the United
States, and others do not. Some know his will very well; others,
much less fully. Some know him well because they are closely
associated with him. They hear his voice expressing his will and
purpose. They see his actions that reveal his will. They know his
manner of thought, his likes and dislikes. There are others who
never saw him, but who know his will in some particulars through
having had communications from him.
We are privileged to know God. We have the capacity to
know him. We may come into an association with him so that we can
learn his character, his likes and dislikes, and what he desires. We
may have communications from him, revelations of his purpose and
will. We may hear his voice speaking in our hearts. And so we may
know God and his will. To be sure, we shall know him only as a man
knows, which means that our knowledge will not be absolutely
perfect. Nevertheless, if we make use of the means to obtain
knowledge of him that are open to us, we may come to know much of
him.
It is not the author’s purpose to discuss the will of God
from a scientific standpoint, as a matter of philosophical
reasoning, but to view the question from its practical aspects, and
in the main, to give attention to those phases of the question which
relate especially to the Christian, to the man who already believes
that he knows something of God’s will, personality, and character.
All Christians believe that the Lord is with his people,
that he is Immanuel---“God with us.” They believe that Jesus Christ
is the revealer of God, that he revealed the character, fatherhood,
purpose, and will of God. When they read in their Bibles that all
shall know God from the least to the greatest (Jer. 31:34) and that
all shall be taught of God (Isa. 54:13) and that the Holy Spirit is
sent to guide us into all truth (John 16:13) they feel in their
hearts the assurance that they are not following “cunningly devised
fables” or being led in the ways of folly, but that they really and
truly do know at least something of the will of their Father which
is in heaven. We are commanded, “Be ye not unwise, but understanding
what the will of the Lord is” (Eph. 5:17). In view of these things,
we seek his will earnestly, reverently, confidently, assured that he
will reveal unto us as much of it as may be necessary in our own
individual cases, in order that we may be acceptable and well
pleasing in his sight.
We may know his will for the race---it is certain that in
some things he deals with humanity as a whole. But the individual is
not so lost in the whole that he has no personal relation with God,
no personal obligation to him as an individual. This being true, God
has a will toward us individually. Not only should we know his will
for the race, but more particularly his will for us as individuals.
We should know it, not only in the general outline of his purpose
for us as one of the race, or in the general course of our lives,
but also in regard to us from day to day, in the details of our
lives, where we need to know his will in order that we may be guided
aright. Thus we may walk with sure footsteps in a plain path, not
fighting or striving in uncertainty or darkness, not laying our
course with dead reckoning, but using a reliable chart and a
trustworthy compass. Uncertainty is a great bane. Having a
conscience toward God, yet being uncertain of his will, loses us in
a maze. The heart can be at rest only when sure it is in harmony
with God, for only then is the conscience giving approval. God’s
promise, “I will give you rest,” is a pledge that we shall not only
know his will, but be able also to fulfill it, and be conscious that
we are so doing.
The fact that some know not God’s will, and think others
do not know it and can not know it, is no valid proof that others do
no know it, any more than the fact that some do not know how to
count proves that there is no such thing as mathematical science, or
that because some one does not know that air is composed of a number
of gases is proof that there is no such thing as chemical affinity
or the science of Chemistry. Knowing this, the Christian is not
troubled with the argument of unbelievers, stating that he can not
know the will of God. He is conscious that in some respects, at
least, he does know it, and he knows when he conforms to it.
It is reasonable that God should have a will for the
race, because the race is of his creation. He tells us that he
created man for his own glory. He had a purpose in creating him, for
he does nothing without a purpose---intelligence acts only for
adequate reasons. It is just as reasonable that God should have a
definite will for each one of us individually as for the race as a
whole. Since he created us, he is, therefore, interested in the
outcome of our lives. Being moral creatures, there must be a moral
outcome to our lives. As a moral being, God cannot be indifferent to
this outcome. We have great need of such a God as the Bible reveals.
This need must be fulfilled in him, and the kind of a God we need is
the kind of a God we inevitable find the God we serve to be. Since
we need a God upon whom we can rely, and since we are often
conscious of the limitations of our knowledge, and since the
awakened heart hungers for love, we know that God answers to all
these needs in being to us knowledge, wisdom, and help, and in
loving us as our hearts crave to be loved.
He is “our Father”; so the interest of a father is
manifested toward us. He is benevolent; therefore he holds a
benevolent attitude toward us. He is love; therefore he has an
abiding interest in our welfare, and a warm affection for us. And
having these attributes which he exercises for us, he has a will for
us in harmony there with. Since he had a purpose in our creation---a
purpose of his own---he is interested that we know and do his will
in order to carry out that purpose. How comforting and inspiring are
these thoughts! How satisfying they are to the heart that craves for
a God of just such a character and such an attitude toward man’s
finite weakness!
Let us turn now and note some of the effects of doctrines
and beliefs that are contrary to the facts just stated. What is the
effect of the doctrine that our lives are unguided, that is, guided
only by human reason; of the idea that God is far off,
unapproachable and unknowable; of the teaching that he has not
revealed himself as the Bible declares, and as Christians believe?
What is the result of such negation? Are those who hold such things
profited thereby? Do those theories afford them comfort and
satisfaction? Do such ideas sustain them in the hour of darkness and
sorrow? Is there anything in these doctrines to ennoble or uplift
the race? Not so. Instead their effect is to bring darkness,
uncertainty, and despair. They wither all lofty aspirations, dry up
the springs of joy, and becloud the pathway of life.
Did you ever see a really happy unbeliever? He may find
some satisfaction in his unbelief, and even some pleasure, but it is
the satisfaction and pleasure of the debater. It is the satisfaction
that comes from showing an opposition to something---a sort of
negative satisfaction. He is utterly devoid of that constant joy,
comfort, rest of soul, peace, and quietness of spirit that comes to
the believer through the truth of God. To be sure, he may have the
happiness that comes from the gratification of natural desire, but
such happiness has a very narrow basis, resting on bare materialism
or a hazy spiritism---it is evanescent, and soon passes away. Take
the cynic of things spiritual, the hostile critic, the infidel, the
skeptic. They stand only on a platform of negation. Outwardly they
may present a bold front, but let their heart be opened, let on gaze
into their depths, and it will then be found that little genuine
happiness or contentment is there, for their system of negation
furnishes no possible basis for genuine happiness.
On the other hand, there is nothing so joyful or so
abiding as the pleasure arising from Christian faith. The Bible
doctrine believed is a source of true joy and rest. Herein lies: the
great practical advantage of the Christian faith as a system of
philosophy. Negation hangs like a dead weight upon the neck of him
who makes it his creed, while faith is like wings to him who
possesses it. While the one sinks down to despair, the other rises
above the perplexities and troubles, cares, and disappointments of
life into a realm of pure joy, into a place where his soul is at
rest---not the ephemeral joy of the opiate, or the rest that it
gives, but the joy of harmonious being, and conformity to the
highest laws of his being.
The wholesomeness, reality, and truth of Christian faith
are shown in the power it gives one to surmount obstacles in life,
and to rejoice, even in disaster. Who but a Christian can joy in
tribulation, and in the darkest hours see gleams of hope? The
Christians’ faith is attacked, despised jeered, mocked, and made the
butt of flippant wit. It is denounced and pitied, ridiculed and
misrepresented. Under all this treatment it neither fails nor
perishes, but waxes stronger and more joyful, for its strength is in
its truth. The more faith a man has, the more truly he believes in
God and God’s interest in the care over him, the more settled and
steadfast he is, the more fruitful and blessed his life, and the
more wonderful those spiritual fruits that he bears which the
opponents of Christianity try in vain to produce.
The Christian believes that he knows God. Resting in that
assurance, he goes calmly upon his way, finding in his life from day
to day a thousand unanswerable proofs of the correctness of his
faith. Every day there is added to his settled conviction new
assurances that God is with him, that his ‘times are in his hands’,
that God knoweth the way that he takes, and that he walks with him
all that way. And so as his locks grow hoary, and as his form is
bent with age, his spiritual horizon grows clearer and clearer, his
faith becomes more steadfast, his assurance more certain, his rest
of spirit more sweet, his peace and tranquility greater, and he has
the satisfying consciousness that he is drawing nearer and nearer to
the blessed fulfillment of his hope, to the full fruition of his
faith. If the doubts that have obscured the lives of others, like
dark clouds cast their shadows down upon his pathway, he can boldly
say, “I know whom I have believed”. So he comes to his end in peace,
and says his last earthly good-bys in a quiet, confident expectation
of a glorious hereafter.
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