The Pastor's Letter December 1976
Dear Friends,
Among the sons of men, it is harder to find one that more challenges us than that man Paul the apostle. Whether he is rising to the heights of magnificent service in the cause of the gospel, or engaged in those things that some might reckon below his dignity, Paul's example speaks out boldly to us to go, and endeavour to do likewise.
At one point in his life, you may remember, (Acts chapter 28 verses 1-6,) Paul was shipwrecked on the island of Malta. On that island, the apostle displays many signs apostolic, and even in the first few verses of the chapter it is evident that this is “no ordinary man”. We are told how the “barbarous people” of the island showed the survivors of that wrecked ship “no little kindness”, for they had kindled a fire on the beach “because of the present rain, and because of the cold.” There then comes that vivid incident when a sleeping viper, apparently laid on the fire in a bundle of brushwood that has been gathered, is aroused out of its sleep, darts out of the heat, and fastens itself on Paul's hand. Every eye turns in Paul's direction, and they wait for him to fall down dead at their feet. But, we are told, Paul simply “shook off the beast into the fire, and felt no harm.” He is, of course, among that number, of whom it was said that they “shall take up serpents;” he is an apostle, and displays an apostle's mark in that memorable scene around that fire on the beach of the island of Malta so long ago.
However, there is another action of Paul that morning that deserves every bit as much attention from us, if not more, as far as our practical Christian testimony and witness are concerned. You see, when that bundle of wood was laid on the fire, it was Paul himself who laid it there. Here is what we read, “And when Paul had gathered a bundle of sticks, and laid them on the fire, there came a viper out of the heat,” etc. Let's not lose the force and the significance of that statement for one moment. “And when Paul had gathered a bundle of sticks ...” Let's not be so interested in those speculations about just what kind of a viper it was that bit Paul, or whether he was really bitten in the first place, and so forth; let's not be so keen to rush on to the vivid that we absolutely miss the tremendous challenge and lesson to our hearts concerning those areas of a professing Christian life that Paul's life so often teach us to follow. I doubt if any of us could “take up serpents!” but we can “gather sticks”, in one way or another, as the occasion demands it in our Christian life and calling.
We may as well visualise what took place that cold, rainy morning on the beach at Malta. It may do well to remember that Paul has been the innocent victim of that shipwreck: he has warned the captain and owner about proceeding with the voyage, but they have disregarded his advice and have now brought disaster upon themselves and upon Paul, as well. There are two-hundred-and-seventy-six souls altogether that have scrambled up that beach from that shipwreck that morning, and it would seem that the one thing in their minds is to get a bit of heat into their perishing limbs. So, we may well see them, jostling and pushing for position around that fire that has been kindled for them. But there is one thing about a fire – it doesn't keep itself going! And out of that circle slips that wee apostle of the Lord God, and begins to gather up some fresh supplies of wood – Paul gathers a bundle of sticks.
How deeply that should touch our hearts. In the Christian estimation of things, a man's greatness is very often not reckoned in what he rises to, but in what he stoops to. The apostle Paul was no “armchair exhorter.” Read his practical words to our hearts in all his epistles, and be assured of this, he wrote what he also performed. Paul was the kind of man that would have sat down for a meal at your table, eaten it with relish, thanked you sincerely from the bottom of his heart, and then have said, “Right now, let's get the dishes done!” Why would he have said that? Because, my friends, he would have known that dishes don't wash themselves. And fires don't keep themselves going. And so, off goes Paul – up onto the sand dunes, perhaps – and begins to rummage around for the fuel that was needed that morning to keep something of a glow present until all their frozen limbs were thawed out a bit.
You see how much application there ought to be in a bit of behaviour like that on the part of this challenging man? It might well come home to those who profess themselves to be called as ministers of the Word of God. There is generally a great tendency in the ministry to hold to one form or another of “apostolic succession”. Would to God we all desired to follow such apostolic example as Paul here sets before us. It is a searching word that Peter writes when he tells pastors how they ought to behave themselves in the office that the Lord has given to them in the church: “Neither as being lords over God's heritage, but being examples to the flock.” How many there are, and they could fill the “Laird's” place quite well in their general behaviour within their pastoral calling. “But being examples to the flock,” says Peter. That means, among other things, don't ask your people to do what you are not willing to do yourself. We don't read that Paul cast an eye around for a suitable “lay-man” to go and gather the sticks for the fire on Malta. Oh yes, there are those “peculiar” things, as you might call them, that belong to the pastoral calling. But we must ever be careful that we don't hide behind those things for not taking our “general” part in all the works of the church's many needs and outworkings. Paul was possibly the only one on Malta who could withstand the viper's sting; he was most certainly not the only one on Malta who could gather sticks; but his “peculiar” calling didn't in any way eliminate his “general” usefulness when such usefulness was required for the benefit of all concerned.
And, of course, the whole incident has that “general” application about it to every professing child of God within the context of the church of Jesus Christ and its needs. It is one of the sweetest words of encouragement that our Saviour ever spoke when He said concerning that woman, “She hath done what she could.” If the lives and attitudes and behaviour of some Christians were to be aligned with those scenes on Malta that morning, we could well imagine them standing round the fire and complaining that it was “going down”, and there was not the same heat as there used to be. You see something about the apostle Paul there? Now, he didn't do what he did out of any selfish motive, and yet, once Paul would begin to climb up those dunes and pull away at bits and pieces of undergrowth, and carry his bundle back to the fire again, he would have, in fact, been warming himself in trying to bring a bit of warmth to others who needed it. We shouldn't lose that fact. Dear old Paul probably felt as “chilled to the marrow” as the rest of them, but believing in the absolute sovereignty of God as he did, he knew that God had provided various means for bringing warmth to cold bodies – and the circulating of the blood was one of them.
And need we speak of the various means that God has given to us, even in the coldest days of our spiritual winters? “Is not my Word like unto a fire? saith the Lord.” And how we need to begin to gather in and gather round that Word of God in our day. What about our prayers? Big sticks and little sticks; pile them on the fire. Why should we complain about the coldness of a prayer meeting when we are either never there, or never come with prayer on our lips or in our hearts? And fellowship, too, in the work of the gospel for the souls of men. As long as the coals are unlit, they lie apart; put a match to them, and they are fused together in the one common cause of bringing light and heat into a dank and darkened world.
“But I can't do much,” says some one. But, is that not the whole point of Paul gathering sticks on the island of Malta? He is not yet in the position to “preach before the kings of the earth” at Rome: that day will come. But, he can gather sticks for the fire; and that he does – it is the present necessity. And surely we have seen how a fire starts, or is rekindled when it has gone down? Not with a half ton of coal being dumped on it, but with the twigs, the shavings, the kindlings. Has that not been God's way so often in beginning a fire in His church that has warmed many souls in the world? Indeed, yes, for God has a way of not allowing any flesh to glory in His presence, and delights to take the foolish things of this world to confound the wise. May the Lord be with us all in our cold days, and may He grant us a spirit to desire that simple, yet profound, commendation, they have done what they could.