Eduardo Grequi
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Excerts by Carradine 1890's
CHAPTER XVII
TRIALS AND SORROWS
It was in this year that as a household we had the unenviable experience of being robbed or burglarized. The shocked sensation still remains as a vivid memory, when I was informed very early Sunday morning by a startled member of the family that thieves had visited every room in the house and had taken something from everybody.
Springing from bed, I found my clothes gone. Looking out of the window, I saw coat, vest and pantaloons stretched on the ground in the most grotesque and absurd positions. In one pocket of the waiste coat I had five dollars, in another I carried a New Testament. The thief or thieves took the money, but left the Bible in the dust by the rejected suit. The clothes would have betrayed them, and the little book containing their doom as transgressors condemned them.
Everything in the larder had been previously cooked and prepared on Saturday for the Sabbath. Our night visitors swept the entire store away and left us without a mouthful of anything.
The news spread rapidly through the village that we had been robbed of every cent of money, and that the storeroom had been emptied as well. The fact was that there was nothing in the storeroom, and it was the dining-room which had been stripped; and so I told all our friends and acquaintances. I also informed them that the currency loss was only five dollars, and even that did not belong to me.
But all I said was of no avail; the people were aroused, indignant, sympathetic and generously disposed, so that a perfect stream of provisions poured into our astonished little larder. It was the first time since I had been a preacher that I had seen a whole barrel of flour, keg of lard, box of cheese, kit of mackerel, sack of potatoes and a dozen hams, all at once, in our pantry. Then there were many other things besides. And as for the money, in spite of all our information and protestation on the subject, no less than three five-dollar bills were sent in to take the place of the one the thief abstracted.
So good came out of it all. An empty store-room was resupplied. The people got blessed in giving. We were blessed in receiving. And as for the thief, I forgave him freely as soon as the crime was committed. Then when the provisions and money came in, I forgave him again still more freely; and I don't know but that I realized a really warm, affectionate feeling springing up in the heart for the poor fellow who had been unconsciously such a help and assistance to the family. Moreover, there have been times since when I could see very plainly indeed a most pressing need for his benevolent services again.
However, let no Ladies' Aid Society apply to me for this man's name and address. I did not see him that night, and would not know him if I met him. He has never visited our household again. Doubtless he was disgusted with the small haul he made on his first expedition. For all I know, the sight of a preacher's sideboard and kitchen led him to repentance and reformation.
As the year advanced, trials and troubles multiplied and intensified. I was advancing in knowledge and grace, getting stronger in the Christian life, and so difficulties, besetments, discouragements and oppositions were allowed to increase in number and gather in force upon the ardent, devoted young preacher who still had so much to learn and so many things yet in the unborn future to endure.
As I preached a clear, deep, uncompromising Gospel, even before I had heard of sanctification, human and Satanic hate sprang up and confronted me. Friends fell off. Grave spells of sickness attacked the young mother of the family. Repeatedly I would be summoned from pulpits here and there to wait upon her sick bed. Other sorrows swept in. And finally death itself entered the home and took away our little boy, whom we had named Ernest. For a month the child made a desperate and most pathetic battle for his life. The preaching had to go on just the same as though I had no dying son in the house.
Every night at one o'clock I had to leave his side and go to the woodpile for an armful of fuel to replenish the fire. At the very same hour a freight train would be struggling up a steep grade fully a mile away down the railroad. The throbbing of that mighty iron heart, the panting of that distant engine as, burdened and pulling a long line of loaded cars, it strove, struggled and all but fought its way up to the summit of the great, wearisome slope, I have never forgotten, and can never forget.
This nightly occurrence peculiarly and powerfully appealed to me then, as, burdened in soul and life, I was drawing a heavy load up a wonderfully steep grade of trouble. It seemed at times as if I would certainly be dragged back to the bottom of the hill; that I could never get over the ever-rising summit of the life situation. And so my soul labored, agonized and fairly panted in its onward and upward course, and with a desperation that seemed to be voiced and declared by the lonely toiling engine far away in the night.
Repeatedly I stood with the load of wood in my arms under the silent autumn stars and waited for the big Mogul to get its victory, mount the ridge and come rolling towards the town. Then I would turn into the death chamber and toil up a steeper grade, and climb a more heart-breaking hill, the top of which was so distant that it could not be seen.
The memory of those nocturnal hours still abides, and still appeals to the heart after the flight of over thirty years. To this day I never hear a freight train at night laboring up a difficult grade but instantly the mind reverts to the past, and the sad history of those weeks and months is lived all over again.
I have pulled up many long, steep places since the time I have spoken about. The heart has ached and throbbed, the spirit panted, the lips called mightily on God, while the life struggled on with its load for the topmost height.
Thus far I have gotten over many sad, hard places and left numberless hills between me and the old past. Doubtless many steep grades still remain to mount. And there is one swell in the ground, called a grave, which is waiting for us all to get over. But I have no question whatever in the mind that if we keep the flame of love and holiness burning in the soul which Christ lighted there years ago, we will all run up the last grade, cross the final hill, view the city of God as it bursts on the sight, and will rush with a shout of exultation and victory into the Union Depot of Everlasting Life and Glory.
CHAPTER XV
THE WAY THAT SEEMETH RIGHT
According to the Bible, and history itself, there are many kinds of lives being lived on the earth. These character presentations are called "ways," and as such diverge, converge, cross and run in every conceivable direction before the eye of the observer.
Some of these ways are emphatically and unmistakably bad. Others are as clearly good. Still others have appeared for a season to be wrong, and then proved to be right. While still others look to be right but are evil and certain to end in ruin.
In this last class of lives there is a division; one is seen where the course seems to be a correct one only to the outsider, while the man himself living the life is conscious that it is wrong. The other division is far the strangest; where the man representing the character is the one who is victimized as to the deception. He is in a wrong way, and one that ends in ruin and death, and yet it seems right to him. There are not a few of these ways.
One is that of reformation.
That is, a man will risk death and the Judgment with the sinful nature that is in him. He would substitute a wonderful divine work with a small-sized human tinkering. He would attempt an entrance into and happy adjustment of himself to a holy heaven when there has been no moral change or character transformation in his own soul.
Reformation is only an external alteration, and no more renews or regenerates the spirit, than putting on a new suit of clothes can restore and heal a leper. And yet with this superficial touch of the life, that may be done for policy's sake and other ignoble motives, there are many who are steadily and some swiftly approaching the dreadful final character inspection and judgment of Almighty God. The way has a surface shine upon it, it looks proper, it seems right, but is certain to end in the rejection, overthrow and damnation of the soul.
A second seemingly right way is the diligent but unspiritual church life.
If a Christian is really spiritual he will be active in the work of the Lord; but it is perfectly possible to be zealous in religious labors, and not at all pious. The words spirituality and activity are not synonymous. That which they stand for should go together and be seen in twin-like connection in the same breast and life; but it is far from being the case with many who name the name of Christ, and who stand high upon the rolls of the church.
That a merely energetic pushing of the material interests of the Savior's Kingdom will not be sufficient to secure an entrance into Heaven, is made unmistakably plain in the Word of God. Even faithfulness in what seems to be the more spiritual side of Gospel work will not secure admission. The clear statement of Christ in the matter is seen in the words, "Many will say to me in that day, Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in thy name? and in thy name have cast out devils? and in thy name have done many wonderful works? And then will I profess unto them, I never knew you, depart from me, ye that work iniquity."
So even devotion to all kinds of meetings, preachings, and evangelistic labors will not take the place of a holy heart and life. It looks all right; it gains the respect and regard of the world, and the favor and approbation of the church, but is not salvation, after all. A cheat and humbug can abide for years and indeed a lifetime in it. It is one of the ways that can seem right, when the man walking its road is heading for eternal death all the while.
A third apparently right way is a self-constituted censorship of God's people.
There is no doubt that the Lord raises up reprovers; and there is no question that the world in a strange, uneasy way recognizes the divinely commissioned rebuker who stands fearlessly forth in the community and before the nation, and administers the quivering, cutting verbal lash where it is needed. But there is a vast difference indeed between a man sent of God to do this solemn and fearful thing, and the man who sends himself. There is a wide separation between authority and impertinence, between holy reproof and mere fussing and scolding. To the first character the multitudes flock as they did to John the Baptist, while from the second the crowds scamper, to be delivered from the ranting and raving of the unbalanced enthusiast, or the spleen of an insufferable egotist.
To many the position of a general public rebuker at first ranks well. It seems right. And for a while it covers the inconsistencies, incongruities and moral shortages of the self-nominated and elected censor; but history is faithful to record that the end of these men is spiritual failure and death.
Sharp tools are not for children. A sword or gun is especially dangerous in ignorant and unpracticed hands. A stranger to the weapon who throws a boomerang had better get his grave clothes ready. But graver than all these conditions, and more profound the peril still is that of a man who thrusts himself forward into a place and office where God has not called him, and where certainly God will not stand by and deliver him. Hence Samuel's rebuke and God's rejection of Saul; and hence the smiting of King U ah with leprosy.
A censor is a high position. Such a one takes his seat on a throne and assumes impeccability and infallibility. He shoots his thunderbolts, and hews down the people. He is greatly grieved with the misdoings of everybody. It looks well. The way seems right. But if he is not sent of God, he will go down, and be crushed under the ruins of his own judgment seat, and perish with the same sword which he was so free to use in wounding and slaying his fellow-creatures.
A fourth apparently right way is seen in the twisting, and shaping of a wrong course, until it is made to look right to the bender and misshaper.
Men have learned the art of perverting scripture to defend and cover sin. Sadder still, they go into practices, beliefs, unbeliefs and lives that are plainly forbidden by the Word of God, and with a most ingenious manipulation of conscience, ignoring of proper example, and a steady refusal to obey the strivings of the Holy Spirit, they settle down at last quietly and contentedly under a sentence of death which reads, "Woe unto them who call good evil, and evil good."
Under persistent effort toward error, the strangest transformation has taken place before their eyes. Sin has become goodness; wrong is now right; a tiger is a lamb in their sight, and an unclean vulture they call a Paradise Bird.
It is now in vain to tell them they are mistaken. They cannot so see it. They have sustained inward injury, the spiritual vision is blurred and the moral judgment destroyed. That which is evil in the sight of God, and wrong in the opinion of men, is perfectly right with them.
There is no need to cite examples here; though pages could be filled with them. Far more profitable would it be for each one of us to ask ourselves, Am I drifting, or have I drifted into such s moral condition?
This remarkable passage of Scripture adds that the "way" spoken of ends in "ways of death."
The singular of sin becomes plural in calamitous results. Or those who persist in this peculiar course of evil will reach finally their doom, but along different routes, and enter upon different deaths. There is such a thing as a divine judgment, knocking a human body into the cemetery. Then there is such a thing as death of influence, death of a good name, death of one's character, death of earthly friendships and loves, death of every holy desire, and finally eternal death.
In dwelling upon this alarming verse; and in recalling that we have immortal souls on probation; and in remembering that eternity is our existence beyond the grave, and that conditions of endless, changeless happiness or woe await us there as the result of our moral choices and lives, we are drawn at once to the following conclusions:
First, we cannot dare to tread an evil or wrong way. The termination of such a course is so clearly laid down in the Bible, and so manifest in life, that it would be utter madness to be found in the broad road that leads to destruction.
Second, we cannot afford to walk in a way that simply seems right. There is too much at stake in this world and in the world to come, for us to risk our all on an appearance; we must have a reality. There must not be a hope so, and seem so, but a know so. We must know that we have passed from death unto life; we must know whom we have believed; and we must know that if this earthly tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building of God not made with hands eternal in the heavens.
In a word, we must get right, be right and do right. We must not be content with a way which seemeth to be right, but enter upon and abide in a life which the Word of God, the Spirit of God, and conscience all agree in pronouncing to be the true, the good and the right way.
Posts: 771 | From: Belvidere, IL | Registered: Oct 2004
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