One grand secret of the strength of the ministry
It is of great importance to recall to our minds the real nature of our work as ministers of the Gospel. We should remember constantly the great ideal of what a Christian minister ought to be, sketched out in the sixth chapter of the Acts: "We will give ourselves to the Word of God and to prayer."
The preaching and expounding of the Word of God, with nothing added, and with nothing taken away—is beyond all doubt our principal business. We must take heed that we give due honor to the Word of God in our public ministrations. A thousand things continually call us away from this—committees, schools, visiting, and the like. But we must remember . . .
that we are ministers of the Word of God,
that our province is the Word of God, and
that we must be very careful not to leave the Word of God to serve tables.
But after that, we must never forget private prayer. This is one grand secret of the strength of the ministry. It is here that the roots of the ministry, practically speaking, are to be found. The ministry of the man who has gifts, however great, but who does not give the prayer-closet the principal place—must sooner or later become tedious and ineffective.
I will remark, in the next place, that it is of immense importance that we should take heed to our own lives. "Pay close attention to your life and your teaching; persevere in these things" 1 Timothy 4:16.
I have been lately studying the lives and private habits of those men whom God raised up to be the revivers of the Church in the last century. I have been much struck with their self-denial, and entire devotedness to the work of the ministry. They were men who lived very plainly and simply, and did not seem to care much for anything but their pastoral work. They were not men who sought the entertainments of the great and the rich. We would do well to consider whether we are living as near to God as they did.
I will remark, in the next place, that we all need to be more careful in the employment of our time. There is a danger of trying to do too much. Some clergymen have so many irons in the fire, that it is impossible to keep them all hot. A few things well done, are far better than twenty poorly done. The man whose work will stand the longest, is the man who, whatever people may say, however lazy they may call him—determines that he will not do more than he can do well.
And always remember: What costs little, is worth little.