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Flowers preach to us if we will hear. — Christina Rossetti, “Consider the Lilies of the Field”
Edward O. Gurreant’s devotional work The Gospel of the Lilies is a treasure of encouragement with much meat for meditation. We have extracted his first message for your consideration today. May his remarks concerning our Lord’s sermon on the Mount — a sermon derived from the very flowers planted by our Creator on that mountain — render a blessing to your soul as you read and, “consider the lilies.”
THE GOSPEL OF THE LILIES
Consider the lilies. Matthew vi, 28, 29.
The greatest preacher was the simplest. The “common people heard Him gladly,” and under stood Him easily.
This was His first sermon, His “inaugural address.” In it He states the character of His kingdom, and lays down the laws of its government, and the duties of its subjects. He shows its superiority over all that preceded it and the absolute security and happiness of all its inhabitants.
Multitudes waited on His teaching. He was the “desire of all the nations.” For four thousand years a guilty hopeless world has been expecting a deliverer. All other helps and hopes had failed. “In the fulness of time,” He came to save a lost world; to bring a race of immortals back to God; to restore order and peace to God’s kingdom on earth. It was a mission worthy of a God, and only a God could do it.
This great sermon on the mountain was His first utterance. He used plain language. He was speaking to plain people. Most of them were poor and unlearned. Their life was a hard one; a struggle for bread, long and sharp. He was speaking to multitudes who were accustomed to “walk by sight,” to depend upon their own arm for a living. The inquiry was “how shall we get bread and clothes for ourselves and children?” They saw nothing beyond the narrow horizon of a hard life, and nothing above the humble roof of their homes.
For years they had been ground beneath the heels of tyrants, and deluded by teachers who taught a false religion, without a Savior or a hope. They felt the need of something better. This was the occasion. The object was to teach them, and you, and me, a better way — the divine, the heavenly way. We need it: The old Galilean cry has come down to us — “What shall we eat?” It occupies most of our thoughts, and time, and energies. He came to show us a better way; to set the world right; to put God back in His place in our lives; to lift up the burdens which have crushed humanity for six thousand years. His great theme was to let God do our thinking, planning, and providing; to let God bear our burdens; to let Him be, what He ought to be, our Father, our Helper, our Redeemer, our “All in All.” He showed them the utter helplessness of man; the utter folly of thinking more of their clothes than of their bodies; more of their food than their souls.
Looking down into the valley where beautiful lilies were blooming, He called their attention to them, and says, “consider the lilies.”
What a scene! What a sermon! How simple, yet how sublime! He made those lilies. He painted their heavenly colors with His sunlight; He refreshed them with His dews and showers; He dressed them in colors more regal than “Solomon in all his glory.” “They neither toil nor spin.” No milliner could have made their wardrobe. God only could make it. Now let us consider:
I. God’s care of the lilies. — He made them, and planted them along the mountain, glen and stream, in field and meadow. He fed and clothed them. The wild lilies have no other provider. God alone cares for them. How well it is done. No human heart or hand can take His place. He planted them where they grow. He selected their home. They grew as He wisely ordered, by stem and leaf and flower. He watered them when thirsty, and fed them when hungry.
“They have no care;
They bend their heads before the storm,
And rise to meet the sunshine warm,
“God cares for them.
His love is over every one;
He wills their good, His will be done.
He does neglect no single flower;
He makes them rich with sun and shower,
Their song of trust is sweet and clear,
And he that hath an ear, may hear.”You see the lesson. The maker of the lilies made you; the Lover of the lilies loves you. Will He not clothe and feed you? Are you not worth more than all the lilies? Why, then, be “anxious about the morrow?” Why, then, be afraid to trust God? How unnatural How unreasonable! How ungrateful!
This is the lesson. Trust God like the lilies, and He will take care of you. This is the life of faith, the lily life; the child life, the heavenly life.
II. Then consider God’s prodigality to the lilies. — Go into a beautiful garden and examine the flowers. What a wealth of color and shape and perfume. All colors, all shapes beautiful, all exquisite perfumes. The wealth of heaven poured out on earth. No wonder Jesus called heaven “Paradise,” the beautiful garden of God.
But that lily is only a poor soulless flower. It can never know who feeds it, or made it, or loves it. It can never see, or know, or enjoy Him. You can. This is your God, your Father. Consider what He does for the lilies, then doubt what He will do for you, His child, His image, His loved one. You can know Him, see Him, love Him and enjoy Him. How much more then will He do for you. What prodigality of love and grace and riches and honor He has for you.
See what He has already done for you. For whom did He make the lilies and the birds and the sunshine and the world? All for you. Whom did Jesus die for? Whom are angels ministering to? Whom is heaven waiting for? All for you.
“Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love Him.”
III. Then consider God’s resurrection of the lilies. — They vanish with the summer, and the snow of winter covers the graves of the lilies, and we imagine they are dead. The wild bees seek them in vain, and the valley is desolate where they bloomed, and the children wonder where they went, but God smiles over the landscape with April sun and showers, and the lilies rise from the dead, and bloom again. This is the resurrection of the lilies. Does it teach us no lesson? Hear Him say, “Consider the lilies.”
Have we loved ones beneath the sod, and the snow, whom we call dead?
“An angel form walks o'er the earth,
With soft and silent tread,
And bears our best loved friends away,
And then we call them dead.”And will not the God of the lilies smile on them again, and make them rise from the grave and bloom again? He says He will. “Awake and sing, ye that sleep in the dust.”
Hear Him say, “Thy brother shall rise again,” and thy mother and husband and child.
We will consider the lilies, and thank God for the beautiful lessons they teach us. The loving hand that heals the broken lily with divine surgery, will bind up the broken heart of His child.
The mighty voice that calls the sleeping lilies from beneath the snow and sod, will call our loved ones from their graves. Blessed resurrection! With beauty beyond all lilies, and life beyond all death, we will receive them again to our rejoicing hearts and homes.
When hard times come and our hearts fail, “Consider the lilies, how they grow,” and take courage. When death comes and takes our best loved ones away, then “consider the lilies,” how they rise, and rejoice that we shall meet them again
“In those everlasting gardens,
Where angels walk,
And Seraphs are the wardens.”
