THE SNARE
THE SNARE
One great mark of progress is to have the “senses exercised to discern both good and evil”, to be skilful to foresee danger and to guard against it.
The great effort of Satan in this day is to set up man in Christ’s place, and where he cannot do this without religion, he attempts it in connection with religion. From the nominal professor, according to the measure of conscience, up to the most devoted saint, every device is used to lead class after class to sanction man and to set aside Christ. As Satan succeeded through man in rejecting Christ and refusing Him a place on earth, his aim now is to set up man, not only independently of Christ, but against Him. The energy from first to last is against Christ, though the purpose is only fully disclosed when Antichrist comes. Hence, though Satan be resisted now in developing his full aim (see 2 Thessalonians 2: 6, 7), yet those who are taught of God see that every action of his, and of every one of his tools, is an antichrist. John says, “Even now are there many antichrists”. The snare in which Satan seeks to entrap every man is self-occupation where he gets influence, and as he suits the snare to the state of each, it is most subtle and deceptive, addressing one when one is least on his guard, though in the form most pleasing to self at the time.
The only antidote, as we see in many of the epistles, is the maintenance of Christ simply and unconditionally. It is remarkable that the epistles of Paul are chiefly written to insist on Christ’s place. No servant in the present time will be up to his work unless he is on his guard against man, for there the evil enters. If I know that at one particular point the enemy, in order to succeed, must obtain a standing, do I not watch at that spot, in order to repel him? Often the evil of man is repudiated when man himself is neither feared nor shunned. It is not the evil of man against which the apostle warns us, so much as against man himself; see 1 Corinthians 1: 11. In Corinth there was no thought of admitting the evil of man, while the exaltation of man was sought, and that by the very gifts of the Spirit; but the fearful way it broke out in chapter 5 showed what man was. In Galatia there was no thought of [p. 241] allowing evil; on the contrary, the object in returning to legalism was to check evil; but this was giving man a place, and there really lay the mischief. The subtle way in which man intrudes baffles detection, except by the Spirit of God, through the word, “piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart”; and hence this very subtlety is an engine of inconceivable power to Satan.
In a threefold way the most devoted are exposed to this snare, which we will consider in detail; first as to their feelings, secondly as to their work, and thirdly as to earthly favours. Now while in theory many would deny that any of these occupied them, yet if they would judge themselves they would not fail to see how constantly they are under one or other of them. The true heart must have occupation either in its own feelings about Christ or in Him its object. If it not be one, it must be the other; and hence many a one who thinks Christ is his object is really feeding his heart on his love and thoughts of love to Christ. Surely there will be delight in and thoughts of Christ when He is the object; but it is quite a different way in which love and thoughts of Him occupy my heart, when He is my object, and when my own feelings are my occupation. The transition from Christ to oneself is so subtle that at times it will be no easy matter to detect it. When the object engages me, it is not the benefits which flow from it which are so much before me, but the object itself The benefits acquire first place with me when the source of them is lost sight of, as one feels and speaks of the value of the sun or of a friend, when either is absent. In the company of a friend I am not thinking of the benefit he is to me; I am enjoying him. When Christ is simply the object of my heart, I am occupied with Him; His word and His favour satisfy and fill my heart. I talk of Him and think of Him, and of every [p. 242] one in relation to Him. I feel Him a light above the brightness of the sun, bearing on everything around me. I am dwelling on what He is, His love to me, and not mine to Him; and it does indeed produce a feeling in me, but so small and weak in comparison to His that the heart dwells on Him that produces the feeling, and not on the feeling itself. The moment the feeling is first, then the object is not consciously before the heart. The disciples going to Emmaus can have their hearts burning within them, and all the time Christ is not the known object; and consequently there is not the way and walk of Christ here. But as soon as He was revealed to them in the breaking of bread — figuratively death, because death is the groundwork of all true knowledge of Christ as an object — they were invigorated in quite a new way, and were found in the line of thought and interest in which He was Himself.
The woman in the Pharisee’s house weeps, standing behind Him; Mary Magdalene weeps when she cannot find Him; but neither enjoys Him as the professed object of her heart. I do not undervalue the tears; they were the suitable exponents of what they felt, but they did not flow from possessing Christ as their object, but because of their own feelings about Him.
But one might say, How could I have feeling about Christ if He were not my object? In neither of the examples which I have adduced was He the object in a known relationship, and yet in each there was a heart won by Him and perfectly true to Him. But there was not in either the sense of relationship or union with Him, as one risen out of the dead. In neither instance was there an entrance on the new ground, as on His side and deriving from Him nature and life. I admit that the heart will be moved by the love of Christ; but I say that it is quite a different thing when one’s own feelings are not primary, but only secondary, and controlled according to a divine nature by [p. 243] the power of the Holy Spirit. One may argue very speciously on the subject, but this only proves how subtle and insinuating one’s own feelings are, and how successfully Satan can ply his snare, because it is so difficult to see where it is; “in vain the net is spread in the sight of any bird”. When Christ is before my soul it is not my own feelings that occupy me, but Himself; not the product, but the Producer; and this is joy in God, making our boast in Him. The snare is not in the product itself, but in making the product the centre of satisfaction and the ground of complacency, as one would enjoy fruits and flowers in winter, when there was no producing power. It is evidently well and wise to have fruits and flowers, but if the producing power be extinct, the supply must cease, and the mind naturally is occupied with that which it has acquired, and not with the one who produced it; and alas! self is made too prominent, and there is self-exaltation from which an apostle would suffer, were it not for the thorn in the flesh. If there be conscience to watch against this most subtle snare, grace will be given to keep the Lord so before one, as the only object to boast in, that it will soon be detected if the summer has turned into winter.
I have dwelt long on this first form of the snare because it is so specious, and it is only in the devoted it could occur, and therefore it is the most damaging because it overthrows or saps the strength of the mighty ones.
The second form of the snare is good conduct, not what one feels but what one does. It is plain enough if one can be deceived to dwell on his own devotion of heart to Christ, or his acquisitions from Him, he will soon become occupied with his conduct and works. No one could deny that a saint should be exemplary for conduct and good works; but when I begin to think of what I have done, or what I am doing, I make myself of importance; I am seeking reputation for myself.
[p. 244] One great mark of every kind of decrepitude is the effort to exhibit life and property. The decay of states has been marked by great buildings; of individuals, by great external show. Where there is real possession there is no effort to exhibit it. It makes itself felt. It is necessary for a publican like Zacchaeus to proclaim his good deeds, because there is nothing in his position or calling in life to indicate any such goodness. Laodicea boasts of what she possesses. She has data for her assumption, and she has an audience which listens to her boastings. She has commended herself to man, and man can appreciate her good works, and admit her claims. Hence the character of the works must be human. A work like that of Mary, breaking the alabaster box and anointing the feet of Jesus, would not be understood at all. Undoubtedly a saint should be exemplary for good morals, and every good work, but he is required to go higher than a human level. If he makes what man can recognise and appreciate his standard, he is seeking a place of distinction for himself as a man, however he may disclaim it or be in theory above it. He must rise to Christ, and there he is on a level quite outside the comprehension of man; but the Lord will approve of him, though his most religious acquaintance may both misunderstand and denounce him. If I keep the high and only true level for a saint, I shall never overlook any work or conduct pleasing to Christ, but He will be my reference, and not the most religious among men, and certainly not the multitude. In fact, if I turn to man at all, I am taken in the snare.
Lastly, the third form of the snare is when the heart looks for evidence of God’s favour in the circle of things which suit and gratify man. Now as to this last, I do not say that God does not in a peculiar way manifest His love and His care for His people now; but if a saint makes what suits him as a man the circle in which he looks for God to demonstrate His favour, then he has not got above man and earth, and he has not found [p. 245] the circle in which Christ has set him, as “blessed ... with all spiritual blessings in heavenly places in Christ”. It is evident that if one looks for expression of divine favour in the sphere of man, however otherwise instructed he may be, his soul has not apprehended the highest sphere, or he would look there for manifestation of God’s favour, especially as there it would be the greatest. The evidence of His love in the highest sphere must surpass anything in the lower one, and as the highest one is the one in which God has set us, it is a departure from our true position when we turn to look for His favours on earth. I do not for a moment say that they do not come, but I do say that if the highest sphere is the one wherein His love delights to express itself, a saint has fallen to the human side when he is watching for favours on earth, or drawing confirmation of His love from the greatness or extent of them. I am sure that the saint most conversant with the unfoldings of His love in the light of glory and the festivities of the Father’s house, will best interpret in detail all the love with which he is cared for here. But it will often be quite beyond human comprehension, and can only be solved by one who has learnt the heart of God in His own sphere, where there is nothing to check its great and holy disclosures, As a rule, saints talk of their trials and of their mercies; they seldom rise from the level of man. They are in the snare, and the longer they are held in it, the more insensible they become to that which holds them.
How different and unspeakably blessed it is, when one, resting in faith on Christ glorified, finds streams of living water flowing down from Him, and from which he can contribute to the earth, instead of, as of old in the feast of tabernacles, celebrating how God has made the earth to contribute to him. The Lord deliver His beloved people from the snare of Satan.