Luminescence, Volume 3. C. K. Barrett
easier and offers pleasures and treasures that appeal to us? William Cowper had that in mind when he wrote: “The dearest idol I have known, whate’er that idol be, help me to tear it from Thy throne, and worship only Thee.”1
Whatever else it means, walking with God means walking in the light, and it means making religion the everyday business of life. God is always with us, but we are only near Him if we recognize and feel His presence in us. God is barely ever in our thoughts except in seasons of trouble. We are not walking with God if we only pray once weekly or even daily. He means not only praying to Him in the morning, but realizing His presence all through the day, so that you can call on him at any time, seeking his guidance, finding his help, learning his will. I once heard a preacher preach on the text of Zechariah 10.12: “and they shall walk up and down in the name of the Lord.” That is it, having God as our constant companion, walking beside us all the way and all the days.
Walking with God means a life of progress. Our meaning of the word “walk” is “to go on.” The man who walks with God is not content with any experience of the past. He will ever be moving on to higher ground, growing in grace and increasing in knowledge. One of my friends (T. J. Cot) said, “Religion is walking and talking with God, and the quality of religion depends on who does most of the talking.” Notice another thing about Enoch—
WHERE WE FIND EXCUSES, ENOCH FOUND OPPORTUNITIES
We excuse ourselves on the ground that with such unpropitious and evil company as surrounds us, walking with God is impossible. But Enoch had the same kind of environment. Our writer says that he was a contemporary of that godless heathen, Lamech. That says a great deal. In the Epistle of Jude, we are told that Enoch had to lift up his voice in protest against the evils around him. Things were not easy for him, but he walked with God. And the fact that we are placed in a godless environment is no excuse for turning from God, but a reason for maintaining a closer walk.
We make family cares and duties an excuse for neglecting religious exercises. Of Enoch it is expressly stated that he walked with God after the birth of his son, Methuselah. Whatever he had done before, when a child came to his house, he knew he had to ponder the path of his feet. I have known homes where the coming of a baby made a break in the religious habits of a home. And yet if anything should lead us to a closer walk with God, it is the fact that we need the grace which comes from such a walk and that little children will be likely to follow in our example.
IS GOD SATISFIED WITH ME?
Those who have walked most closely with God will bear most emphatic witness that they are satisfied with Him. The questions we ought to ask is, “Is God satisfied with us?” Enoch’s record was that he satisfied God. Have we a like record? That is a question not easily answered. Certainly, no person who walks closely with God will himself answer in the affirmative. He will call himself an unprofitable servant, and not in much modesty. The person who, of all persons, might have claimed that he had met God’s highest demands was the Apostle Paul, but he said he was the “least of all.” He was forever following after the ideal.
We shall never get beyond the need of God’s grace and we shall always know ourselves as sinners saved by grace. We shall never get to the point where there is no more room for growth and progress. What I can see and want to urge is that God must be dissatisfied with many of us. Our progress has been so slow, our walk with Him so hesitant. But I have known some people who were modern Enochs. In the spirit of their humility I know that God takes joy in them and that the Savior saw the travail of their road and was satisfied. We are sure for them are the words, “well done.”
Why should we not be following those who in their lives satisfy God? At least we know the things that grieve Him. Let us not rehearse them. Let us instead pray for and seek after a closer walk with God. That is the ideal Christian life. Not so much work we do for Him as what we suffer Him to be to us and for us. It was Mary, who sat at Jesus’ feet, who chose the better part. It was Enoch who satisfied God. In one of the simple songs of salvation, Dora Greenwell has a word for us: “And oh, that He fulfilled may see, the travail of His soul in me, and with His work contented be, as I with my dear Saviour.”
1. He is quoting a line from the hymn “O for a Closer Walk with God.”
“THE RECONSECRATIONS OF LIFE”—Genesis 13.1–4
(Preached four times from Spring Head Mission 6/7/42 to Pleck 1/16/44)
Genesis 13.1–4 “And Abram went up out of Egypt . . . into the place of the altar which he had made there at the first: and there Abram called on the name of the LORD.”
Abram went up out of Egypt. Perhaps he never ought to have gone down into Egypt. Certainly, he ought not to have acted as he did there. At the call of God, he had gone out from home and kindred. The call of God was accompanied by the promise that Abram should be made a great nation and that the Land of Canaan should be given to him and his children. When he got to the promised land instead of finding a fortune he found a famine. Instead of trusting the Lord, of whom he said later, “The Lord will provide,” the patriarch felt that he must rely on his own resources. That is why he went down into Egypt. While there, he felt that to keep himself and his dependents alive, he must have recourse to craft and dishonesty. He had to learn that God fulfills His word and needs not man’s crafty devices. Abram was humbled in the sight of God and the Egyptians. He came away thinking very meanly of himself. His return to the altar at Bethel seems to be the acknowledgment that he had been wrong, that he should have remained in dependence on God.
RETURN AND REPENTANCE
His return was the expression of his repentance. Its candor and courage we can appreciate. It was his frank admission that he had erred. To repair, as far as possible, the error, he returned to the old place, the old practice. We have not always the courage to do that, though we are aware that the only hope lies in candid and straightforward repentance, in an open return to the things which should never have been abandoned. It is not surprising that Abram’s repentance took the form of return to the place of the altar. He “expressed his inward passion in the building of an altar.” The building of an altar had a definite meaning. It was the token and medium of his covenant with God, his confession of faith, the correction of his life. When he went back to the altar, after doubt and sin, we may say he was repenting of his sin, renewing his covenant, and reconsecrating his life. And that brings us to our subject, The Reconsecration of Life. There are times when we need to return to what the altar symbolizes, times that we reconsecrate ourselves to God.
Let us frankly begin at the beginning and confess that there is need for reconsecration after a fall. Abram had sinned. We must not minimize that fact, but the real question is how a person behaves after he has fallen. Abram went straight back to the old altar and knelt there in penitence and reconsecration. That is the only way of salvation. Too often, after one falls, through shame, or self-will, or pride, or fear, we do not return. That is when a fall leads to further sins. The way of repentance and confession is hard, but it leads to life.
David sinned grievously, but he sobbed out the contrition of his broken heart, and the joy of salvation was restored to him. Peter denied his Lord with oaths and curses, but he “went out and wept bitterly,” and Christ restored him. The other day I took up and reread Harold Begbie’s book Broken Earthenware. The Puncher, converted from the lowest depths of degradation, had a relapse. It was cold, his vitality was low, and a friend urged him to have a drink. Then the old demon of drink had him by the throat and he staggered through the streets drunk. The people did not mark or jeer, they were sorry he had fallen. But the door of his home opened and the Puncher came out. He had taken off his coat and put on his Army red jersey. He went straight to the Salvation Army Hall, knelt in the penitent form, and gave himself afresh to God.
Probably by the mercy of God we have been spared the need for a return like that, but for most of us there is need for reconsecration to the enthusiasm of earlier years. We look back to the zeal of our youth. The heart