1. First there is the fundamental, fatal discord, between the flesh and the spirit. St. Paul describes this feud in language which brings the sad fact home irresistibly. “For I delight in the law of God after the inward man: but I see another law in my members, warring against the law of my mind, and bringing me into captivity to the law of sin which is in my members” (Rom_7:23). Our nature is not one, but two—the law of the mind, the law of the members. Here we get to “the law of storms”—the very source and secret of life’s unrest. Wilder hurricanes than ever sweep the Atlantic; hotter siroccos than ever blaze over the Sahara; deadlier whirlwinds than ever wreck Oriental city, rage in the breast of man; and the law in our members which wars against the law of the mind is the source of all this conflict, passion and pain. There can be no true peace until this internecine war ends in the utter breaking down and final extinction of the law in our members. “Because the carnal mind is enmity against God: for it is not subject to the law of God, neither indeed can be” (Rom_8:7). “First pure, then peaceable” (Jam_3:17); this is the order of Christ. The peace Christ gives is both noble and profound, and here we have an illustration of this. The soul is not soothed by some anodyne, or lulled by some lullaby, as the world gives peace; but our breast is cleansed of the mystic poison which works so disastrously. Christ pours into us the light, energy, joy of His own glorious nature, breaking the tyranny of the law in the members, giving ascendency to the law of the mind, and thus brings back the paradisiacal calm. Perfect peace goes with perfect purity, always goes with it, and is not found elsewhere.
2. The other great antagonism is between Christ within us and the world without. And again the only way of peace is by the submission of the one element to the other—the world to Christ. “The world!”—what do we mean by that vague term? Fairly enough for our present purpose, may we not say that “the world” represents the great accepted tendencies of things? The “world of politics” represents the tendency to corruption and selfishness which seems to be the drift of life where men engage in government affairs; the “world of business” means the tendency to selfishness and materialism and sharp dealing; the “world of fashion” means the absorption in frivolity and thoughtlessness and rivalry in silly show; the “world of religion” describes the disposition to cant and unreality and superficial sentiment which haunts the outskirts of all sacred thought and high emotion. This is what “the world” means when we speak of it in a bad sense.
Now, He who came to deliver us from the bondage of a world of strife did not work in the superficial ways of that world. Peace He left with us, His peace He gave unto us; but “not as the world giveth, give I unto you” (Joh_14:27). His method of “Peace at any price” had other emphasis than this world gives. Cost what it might, true peace must be won; be the price never so terrible, He would pay it to the uttermost. If He has brought peace, it is not because He acquiesced in the world, but because He overcame the world. He overcame it, not by palliating things at the surface and glossing over all that was ugly and base, but by going down to the very bottom of things; not by acquiescing in the existence of evil or making a truce with it, but by facing it in the power of life in which it had no part, and accepting in Himself the very worst that it could do.
And so, he who rests in Christ with an absolute faith proves perfect peace even in the midst of loss, persecution, tumult and death.
Not a surge of worry,
Not a shade of care,
Not a blast of hurry
Touch the spirit there.
We must live a life of constant faith, ever looking into the heavens. A distinguished physician who recently died reminds us that there is no place where the grandeur, ambition and care of life are so thoroughly rebuked as in an Astronomical Observatory. “As a practical illustration of this remark,” he continues, “I would add that my own knowledge of astronomers—those who have themselves worked with the telescope—has shown them to be generally men of tranquil temperament, and less disturbed than others by worldly affairs, or by the quarrels incident even to scientific research.” How likely this seems! Constantly dwelling on the magnitudes and magnificences of the firmament, the “expressive silence” and splendour of the starry depths, their soul shared the grandeur and peace amid which they wrought, and became insensible to the petty ambitions and anxieties of the earth. Thus will it be with us—only in a far grander sense and measure—if we keep heaven opened to us, and dwell constantly on the sublime facts and hopes of that celestial realm where Christ sitteth on the right hand of God. The successes of life shall not exalt us, its ambitions dazzle, its cares agitate, its sorrows crush us. Our peace will flow like a river into the stormless ocean of eternity. [Note: W. L. Watkinson, Mistaken Signs, 60.]
