The Monmouth Inquirer

Talmage Sermon
By Rev. Frank De Witt Talmage, D. D.

Los Angeles, Cal., March 11.—Peculiarly, in view of the great Japanese famine, is this sermon, in which he shows how marvelously God cares for those who trust in him.

It is I Kings xvii. 14, "The barrel of meal shall not waste, neither shall the cruse of oil fail."

Want that gaunt, haggard, skin-pinched, death-dealing famine never stalk through the streets of our cities. Dore's most vivid pictures of Dante's hell and Hogarth's most horrible caricatures of sin and vice and Vassili Vereschagin's most realistic scenes of blood-soaked battlefields of the Japanese and Russian war cannot compare in horror with the terrible sights that have been witnessed when maddening famine gets in its work. Could paintings be more awful than the simple photographs we saw of men and women and children huddled together in kneeling groups who were slowly dying to death in the awful Indian famine of 1897 and 1900? Could anything be more fearful than the simple statement which declares that in the famous Bengal famine of 1770 out of 30,000,000 of inhabitants 10,000,000, or one-third of the whole population, were swept away within a few months?

The same kind of a fearful famine that cursed Russia in the year 1892, devastated Ireland in 1879 and 1846 and 1844, the same kind of a famine as that which destroyed two-thirds the inhabitants of the Cape de Verde Islands in 1830, the same kind of a famine which blasted northern Africa during Joseph's premiership and now devastating the land of Japan, depopulating Palestine. "O God, give us rain!" is crying the rich man from his palace. "O God, give us rain!" cries the poor peasant in his hut. "Give us rain! Give us rain, or we die!" These are the universal pleadings. But no rain came. On account of King Ahab's sins God had decreed that no rain was to descend upon Palestine hills and plains for three long years.

Save the hills and the valleys of Israel. We come down toward the Mediterranean shore, to the beautiful city of Zarephath, situated near Tyre and Sidon. There we find the situation appalling. The horses, cattle and sheep died months ago. The drought has already lasted two long years. The cattle had no food to live. They had to die. The grass and wheat had long since disappeared, and women and children were dying by the scores and the hundreds. Fever and scurvy were every day adding to the death list. The whole city was becoming one great charnel house. The fields where once grew the harvests were as hard as baked and cracked clay. As I stand in imagination on the outskirts of the city, amid scenes of desolation and death, I see a double woman, weak and tottering, gathering a few sticks to build a fire. Along comes a tall, gaunt, dignified man. He looks like a born leader of men. He accosts the woman, speaking like this:

They Were Starving.

"Woman, I pray thee, hasten and fetch me, I pray thee, a little water in a vessel, that I may drink." She turns to do his bidding. Then in a matter of fact way the stranger says, "Bring me, I pray thee, a morsel of bread in thine hand."

He practically says, "When you go for the water bring a little food too." The woman, weak and tottering from starvation, turns and looks at him in amazement. Then she speaks in this wise:

"Man, what are you talking about? Are you mad? We are starving. We are dying. The dead in our streets lie unburied! I have starved and starved. I have cut the daily supply of food down and down, until now we are at the end. I have but a handful of meal and a little oil. I am going to make this for my son, and then we shall lie down and die." With that the Tishbite said: "Woman, do as I say and God will take care of thee. Thus saith the Lord, The barrel of meal shall not waste, neither shall the cruse of oil fail, until the day the Lord sendeth rain upon the face of the earth."

Such is the simple story of how God saved the poor widow and her son in the Zarephath famine, because she was willing to do what God's command demanded.

Zarephath famine, in the first place, teaches us that the good and the innocent conjointly suffer from the sins and crimes of the bad. Walter Scott's business partners were rogues. The innocent Sir Walter Scott had to suffer. The owner of Abbotsford had to shoulder $600,000 debt. Son-in-law of Francois Grevy proved to be a scoundrel. Innocent Francois Grevy had to resign the presidency of France because his son-in-law, Wilson, was convicted of selling decorations and the offices of government for cash. The April showers fall upon the just and the unjust, upon the wheat and the tares. The evil deeds of a husband affect not only himself, but his wife and children also. When the wayward prince was hung, David, heart-broken father, went to his chamber by the gate and wept, and as he wept he said: "O my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom! Would God I had died for thee, O Absalom, my son, my son!"
The prodigal in his rags and in disgrace in the far country tending the herd of swine, sharing with them their fodder and chewing the husks thrown to the four-footed, unclean, filthy beasts, is not more pathetic than the mourning parent, waiting and watching for his youngest boy to come back home. Yes, yes; sin brings the famines which afflict the good and the bad, the innocent and the guilty alike. The evil deeds of an Ahab and a Jezebel caused the poor widow of Zarephath and her only son to starve.

Cannot you find any direct connection between the sins of Ahab's palace and the hunger gnawing at this poor widow's vitals? We ascend the beautiful hills of Samaria. We find there a heathen temple. We find there the king's palace, a place of licentiousness and immoral filth and drunken carousals. Then we hear the prophet say: "Ahab and Jezebel, on account of your sins I will send a drought upon the land. For three long years not a drop of rain shall fall." "Aha," laughed the sinful monarch. "I am not afraid! Such a beautiful country and such rich farm land as ours will never be turned into a desert. Threatening prophet, I defy thee!" But day after day the hot sun burned. Day after day, week after week, month after month, no rain or dew. Two long years of drought had passed over the land. The vineyards were gone. The harvests were gone. The orchards were gone. God was starving Ahab and Jezebel. But while he was starving the king and queen the poor widow and her only son were also suffering in the Zarephath hut. The sins of the fathers are visited upon the children even unto the third and the fourth generations. The good and the innocent suffer for the evil deeds of the corrupt and the befouled. O man, be not an Ahab! O woman, do not become a Jezebel! Avoid the sin which will bring a curse and blight on the hearts of the innocent ones by your side as well as on your own lives.

Lesson of the Famine.

This eastern famine teaches us another lesson. God always honors the men and the women who honor his messengers. He honored this poor starving widow of Zarephath. Why? She was ready to care for and house his ambassador, Elijah the Tishbite. He honored Rahab the harlot. She secreted the spies that Joshua sent to Jericho. He honored Abraham. Abraham welcomed to his table the three angels who came to his tent on the plains of Mamre. He honored Naaman. Naaman was ready to obey the commands of Elisha. He honored David. David wept before Nathan. He honored Hezekiah. Hezekiah honored Isaiah. All through the Bible you can find this mighty and far-reaching law enunciated and illustrated whereby God blesses those who honor his representatives and denounces those who despise or turn their backs upon his ambassadors.

The teachings of the Old and New Testament in this respect are one. In the Psalms we read, "Touch not mine anointed and do my prophets no harm." Then, as an indorsement, we find the following in Matthew in reference to Christ's missionaries, spoken by Jesus himself: "And whosoever shall not receive you, nor hear your words, when ye depart out of that house you shall shake off the dust of your feet. Verily I say unto you, it shall be more tolerable for the land of Sodom and Gomorrah in the day of judgment than for that city." But though God bids us honor his representatives, as the Zarephath woman honored and cared for Elijah, yet today there seems to be a tendency abroad to criticise and denounce God's ministers and to patronizingly ridicule them a great deal more than you would any other class of men. The result is that scores and hundreds of young men who ought to be preaching in the pulpit have been turned aside because of the way some congregations treat their ministers.

What They Wanted.

In the first place, many churches are simply starving their preachers to death while they themselves demand all the excellencies of earth and heaven in their pastors. Rev. Dr. Haven some time ago told about a letter which a Virginia parish sent to Professor Rice, requesting a minister. "The people," this letter declared, "want a man of first-class endowments." They wanted a literary preacher, for some of the young people were literary. They wanted a minister who would visit a good deal, for their former pastor had neglected to do as much of that as they could have wished. They wanted a man of winsome and fascinating social personality, for the people thought a good deal of that. They wanted a good organizer as well as a fine orator. After they had gone on describing the kind of a perfect minister they wished, they ended the letter in this wise: "We have been paying our last minister $350 a year, but if you could send us just the kind of a man we want we think we can raise his salary $50 more and give to him $400 a year." With that, Dr. Rice sat down and wrote the following ironical letter to this exacting congregation:

Dear Friends—Your letter received and contents carefully noted. I know just the minister you need, if you can get him. Make out a call to Dr. Timothy Dwight, late president of Yale college, who is now in heaven. He is the only being I know who can meet all your requirements. And as Dr. Dwight has been living so long in heaven on spiritual food perhaps he may not need any material food and could therefore easily exist on your salary of $400 per year.

Then study how some ministers are ill-treated in other ways in some countries. God never spiritually blesses a country, a church or an individual that is not willing to honor, respect and care for his ambassadors, as the Zarephath widow cared for Elijah the Tishbite. Yet to hear some men talk you would think they were conferring an honor upon a preacher or a kindness on a pastor merely because they come to church at all. Joseph Parker once denounced the supercilious way some men have of looking down upon and despising the ministry. "A person once asked me to lend him $5," said he, "on the ground that he had long attended my ministry. Possibly the man richly deserved a sovereign for having done so. At the same time, it is a popular mistake to suppose that the minister is the party receiving the favor. He gives his hearers his best thinking, his best powers of all kinds, and it is, therefore, a pity to show him thankfulness by borrowing money of him." And, my friends, I go further than that; I assert that I never found any men or women a practical bit of use in church work or in any spiritual line unless they not only honored the ministry, but respected ministers when they stood in the pulpit expounding the word of God. "One of the fundamental reasons why old Scotland became the spiritual power it was and is," said John McNeil, "is because old Scotland respected the ministry." May God help us to honor God's representatives or messengers or ambassadors or clergymen, as the Zarephath widow honored Elijah the Tishbite.

An Hour of Anxiety.

But as I come to the outskirts of Zarephath and feel the hot winds strike my cheek and look off at the bleak hills and the grassless valleys and see the bones of beast and bird bleaching on the dry sands I see that this "eastern drought" had a famine within a famine. No sooner did Elijah appear and give to the Zarephath widow her daily supply of meal and oil than I think I can hear her heave a great sigh of relief. "Ah," she says, "now I know my boy is not going to die!" She felt just as you felt when a dear friend was put upon the operating table. The dreaded morning came. You were down bright and early to the hospital. She lay in bed a little flushed and her eye bright. Neither you nor she made any reference to the danger, but just as the doctors and nurses came into the room, dressed in white aprons, to give the anaesthetic she flung her arms about your neck and whispered: "Goodby, dear friend. If I don't wake up, goodby, goodby!" Oh, yes; you remember that day! They carried her out on the stretcher. The door of that awful operating room was shut. You could not see; you dare not go in. You walked up and down the hall, up and down. You convulsively clasped your hands. You kept saying: "O God, save her! O God, give me back my darling! O God, save her, save her! Give her back to me!" Then you remember the thankful prayer you uttered when the doctor opened the door and put his head out of the room and said: "She is all right. Everything is all right."

This was the feeling of relief and gratitude of yonder mother of Zarephath when she knew that her boy was not going to starve to death. The danger of starvation was past. We can see the boy growing fat and plump. The mother's step has become strong and elastic. As the lad plays before her door we can see her smile as she hears his happy laugh. Methinks, perhaps, she has been growing a little careless and forgetful of late toward God, as some of us do when we are surrounded by many apparently permanent blessings. Suddenly the long arm of death reaches through the opened window of this woman's hut. The arm may be covered with flesh. The arm may not be a skeleton from starvation, but it is the arm of death. Within a few hours the child is dead. At once the widow goes to Elijah and begs of him, by the power of God, to restore unto her the life of her boy. Elijah, by God's power, does so. What is the practical observation? Cannot you grasp it? In every drought of Zarephath there is a famine within a famine, there is always a death within a death, a temptation within a temptation. If you and I are ever going to be spiritually safe we must always keep living near to God, else the second death will be as bad as the first death.

When the first moral or spiritual dangers of life are past it is easy to blind our eyes to the second and the third and the fourth and the tenth and the twentieth peril. "Let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall." Here, for instance, is a man who for years has been addicted to intoxicating drink. He has fought it and fought it until at last by the grace of God he has triumphed. But though for years he has never tasted a glass of liquor he has become so absorbed in making money that he has gradually drifted away from walking with God. One day he has an awful awakening. He finds that his faith in Jesus Christ is gone or that his only boy, who is now more to him than his life, is a drunkard, a libertine or a thief. This is a danger he never dreamed about or guarded against. Famine within famine; death within death. And so, my friends, no matter how many dangers God has rescued us from in the past, that is no reason why we should turn our backs upon God now. Like the poor widow of Zarephath, we must live and continue to live close to God, for there are moral and spiritual dangers everywhere we turn and everywhere we look.

Lasted as Long as Needed.

But did you ever stop to consider how long this supply of meal and oil lasted? Just as long as the famine lasted. No more, no less. No sooner did the rain descend upon the earth and the orchards began to give forth their fruits and the gardens their vegetables and the fields their harvests than this miraculous supply of food stopped as suddenly as the manna of the wilderness ceased when the children of Israel passed over the Jordan into the promised land. When man can help himself God always expects him so to do. God never takes care of a man who is not willing to help take care of himself.

Methinks I can hear a conversation between two lazy men of the Israelitish army the day after they had passed over into the promised land. Joshua was sending forth his foraging parties to provide food for the encampment. "Oh," says one of these men to the other, "there may be lots of rich grapes around here and lots of deer and birds, but I guess I will not hunt after them. Hunting always makes me tired. Come, let's go out and get the manna. The manna is good enough for me. We do not have to work for that." And so they go forth to collect their daily supply. What has happened? For the first week day in over forty years the ground is bare. God never helps a man when he can help himself. And so methinks I can see this poor widow after the gardens are moistened with the rain say to her son, "Come, my boy, let us go out and get the dinner." But when she looks into the barrel it is empty. Then she looks into the cruse, and the oil is gone. God said, "The barrel of meal shall not waste nor the cruse of oil fail until the day the Lord sendeth rain upon the earth." God never helps a man when he is able to help himself.

Standing by Zarephath of the east, are you ready to go to work in God's vineyard and do the best you can for God? Showers of blessings are falling everywhere around us. Are you ready to give up your life to the service of the Master? Remember that when this poor widow gave to Elijah of the little she had there was not only enough for the Tishbite, but also enough left for herself and her boy. Are you ready to give your all for Christ and trust him that he will care and provide for you? Are you ready to give of your portion to help others who need it sorely, like those poor farmer folk in famine-stricken Japan? The reason some of us do not grow in spiritual life is because we expect God to do all, and we are not willing to do all.

Is thy cruse of comfort failing?
Rise and share it with another,
And through all the years of famine
It shall serve thee and thy brother:
Love divine shall fill thy storehouse,
Or thy handful still renew.
Scanty fare for one will often make
A royal feast for two.

And who was this Zarephath woman? Was she a Hebrew? Was she a believer in the true God? Oh, no; not in the beginning. She was a native of a city of Sidon. That city was not a Hebrew province. She was a gentile. In other words, when Elijah spoke to this widow of Zarephath he became, as Dr. Lightfoot expresses it, "the first prophet to the gentiles." Today, like Elijah, I seem to be appealing not only to those who love Christ, but also to those who are of Sidon, or outside of the church of God. Like this woman of Zarephath, will you receive me as the messenger of God? Will you accept my Saviour as your Saviour? May we, in this famine of sin, be succored and saved by the God of Elijah, the God who saved the poor widow of Zarephath.

[Copyright, 1905, by Louis Klopsch.]