Peace: False and True

 •  8 min. read  •  grade level: 8
 
ABSENCE of alarm is, in itself, no real guarantee of safety. Every fisherman’s baited hook, every well-spread fowler’s net supposes this; while the page of history teems with illustrations of the fact, and hardly a day passes without fresh contributions to the record, and these of the most striking character. Above all, hear the word of the Lord, as He points back to one of these very illustrations: “They were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage... and knew not until the flood came, and took them all away” (Matt. 24:38, 3938For as in the days that were before the flood they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, until the day that Noe entered into the ark, 39And knew not until the flood came, and took them all away; so shall also the coming of the Son of man be. (Matthew 24:38‑39)). Listen again to the testimony of the Holy Spirit as He points us forward to a day fast approaching. “When they shall say, Peace, peace,” He says, “then sudden destruction cometh upon them... and they shall not escape” (1 Thess. 5:33For when they shall say, Peace and safety; then sudden destruction cometh upon them, as travail upon a woman with child; and they shall not escape. (1 Thessalonians 5:3)).
The most successful fowler is he who can most effectually keep his net or his snare out of sight, who can keep his victim in the most undisturbed peace until escape is impossible and he can triumphantly cry, “Caught.”
The man who captures wild ducks in the fens of Lincolnshire does it all by unsuspected agencies. He has his decoy-pond, his decoy-dog, and his decoy-ducks. But he never comes into sight himself; a high barrier keeps the ducks from seeing him.
His little dog is trained to do his share of the deadly work without a bit of noise. Very systematically he goes to work; first running along inside the barrier next to the pond where the decoy-ducks can see him, then outside through a hole in the barrier, where he knows he will get a bit of cheese from his stealthy master.
The decoy-ducks are accustomed from their “duckling” days to get their food in the presence of this little dog, so that when he makes his appearance they give their “quack” of satisfaction, and at once make their way toward where he is. The unsuspecting wild ducks seem to understand this cheerful “quack.” It means food, they think, and gladly follow on, down a winding and ever-narrowing channel, connected with the large pond and cut out for the purpose. Toward the end this channel is completely spanned with netting.
The dog is leading on all the time, getting his own taste gratified every fresh hole he reaches. The foolish ducks follow. No doubt they consider themselves well able to keep out of danger, but they are no match for the mastermind behind the fence.
When the decoy-man considers that they have gone far enough to serve his purpose he suddenly shows himself from behind. Escape is now the all-engrossing object before the wild ducks. But how shall they accomplish it? Ah, that is the question. Flying upwards is impossible, for the strong net is there. They cannot see their way back on account of the winding of the channel by which the spacious pond is by this time hidden from their view, and besides, the man is there behind them. In great terror they do all they can do, and that is to rush wildly forward to the narrow extremity and to DEATH! This is precisely how the great “destroyer” works with souls.
“When the strong man armed keepeth his palace, his goods are in peace” (Luke 11:2121When a strong man armed keepeth his palace, his goods are in peace: (Luke 11:21)). Nor does the Lord leave any doubt as to who the “strong man” is (see preceding verses). It is the devil―the master “fowler,” with all his well-hidden, unsuspected devices. He is looked upon here as king or prince, but acting as keeper of his own castle. He does not come into view. He knows better. He acts by subtle artifice, and binds his captives by means of their own varied tastes. In reality his “palace” is a prison, but to those within its iron gates it is regarded as a delightful “Palace of Varieties.” “Do as you please,” “Choose your own pleasures,” “Gratify your own tastes,” and such-like agreeable little sentences are amongst his favorite mottoes; while the “palace” itself furnishes ample means for putting them into practice. Is it the betting ring or the gambling table you desire? or is it pleasure of a more intellectual, more refined type that suits your particular tastes? Well, you need not go out of the “palace” for any of these. Indeed, there is, so to speak, accommodation in the palace and its grounds for every possible taste imaginable, from the external ceremonies of religious formality and musical religious entertainment down to the gratification of the most degraded lusts and passions that a fallen creature can be capable of. You may enjoy yourself there in any way that is best fitted to your own particular fancy. There is, however, one thing to note. In order to really enjoy them you must forget, if you ever knew, that you are a prisoner there! You can only enjoy the bait as long as you are not feeling the keen barb of the hidden hook. When the fowler’s snare has hopelessly entangled your feet you can no longer relish the dainty, scattered morsels. His “baits” are briefly summed up by the Spirit of God under three heads: “The lust of the flesh, the lust of the eye, and the pride of life,” and over them all are written these words, “Not of the Father” (1 John 2:1616For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life, is not of the Father, but is of the world. (1 John 2:16)).
But how is it that the “keeper” is able to keep some of his victims so long? Well, the secret of it lies in two things: one, the gratification of your own will; the other, fear of the consequences of confessing Christ. While you are content to remain as you are he will gratify you. When you come to see that you are, while belonging to his palace, exposed to the judgment of God, and consequently desire to escape, he terrorizes you. Fear is his favorite weapon for the anxious, and every anxious soul seeking to quit the “palace” is more or less made to feel its keen edge.
Have you ever asked yourself why it is that when a man changes his residence, or his political opinions, or even his “religion,” there is nothing of terror in his mind, but directly he wishes to leave the world, to renounce his old lusts and pleasures and to come to Christ, a strange, unaccountable, and almost indescribable feeling of terror comes over him? Ah, it is easy to account for it in the light of this scripture. It is the determination of the “strong man armed” to “keep his goods” that accounts for it all.
A few years since a servant of Christ had embarked on a steamboat bound from Hull to Gothenburg in Sweden. But such a dense fog settled upon the harbor early that morning that the captain dare not venture further than a few yards from the dock gates. There the ship had to remain fully a day and a half. When the fog had sufficiently lifted to permit of sailing, the captain took his vessel slowly and cautiously down the River Humber. By the time the open sea was reached the fog had quite cleared away. Then followed a most terrific storm, which tossed the vessel most furiously, and still further delayed her arrival at the destined port.
The passenger already referred to will not easily forget that early morning in January when Gothenburg harbor was reached. The sky was perfectly cloudless, and there was not wind enough to disturb even a snowflake. Calm, welcome calm, was reached at last. What a striking contrast it was to the experience of that stormy voyage!
That voyage began with a calm and ended with a calm. But how different the character of the calm One was a calm before the storm was reached―the calm of a dense fog; the other, a calm after the storm was passed―the calm of cloudless brightness, the calm of the “desired haven.”
Now these two characters of calm illustrate the two kinds of peace that men possess today. One is the kind of peace that some have because the stormy question of “How can a sinful man be justified with God?―that is, how can sin be judged righteously and the sinner saved righteously?”―has never yet been raised in their souls. Such peace is truly the foggy peace of hardened indifference and culpable uncertainty. The other is the peace which the true believer possesses; the peace which follows the inward storm of conviction, brought about by the sense of what sin is in the sight of God; the peace which is the result of knowing that the One who knew no sin has, once for all, endured sin’s fullest condemnation. “Who was delivered for our offenses, and was raised again for our justification.” Peace is the result of knowing this. “Therefore being justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ” (Rom. 4:35; vs. 1).
“The storm that bowed Thy blessed head
Is hushed forever now,
And rest divine is ours instead,
Whilst glory crowns Thy brow,”