Vision and Duty
George H. Morrison
1 Samuel 3:4, 15
This was the great hour in Samuel's life. It was both his conversion and his call. We can imagine the intense excitement it must have stirred within that boyish heart. Hitherto Samuel had been a child. His farthest horizon had been his mother's home. He had been happy, as any child would be, doing his little tasks within the sanctuary. Now God had spoken to him, and called him by his name, and come into living personal contact with him, and the world of childhood had vanished like a dream. Old things had passed away; all things had become new. He had heard the voice that alters everything so that life never can be the same again. And the beautiful thing is that having heard it, Samuel lay quite quiet until the morning and then opened the doors of the Lord's house. It was a strange task after such a night. It accorded ill with the vision in the darkness. Was it for him, who had been favored so, to sweep the floor and draw aside the curtains? It is characteristic of this faithful soul that, after an hour that changed the world for him, he went back again to lowly menial duty. Voice or no voice, these doors must be opened. That was his personal and given task. No vision, however exciting or unsettling, must hinder him in his appointed office. It is a splendid trait in Samuel's character that, after the most thrilling hour of his life, he opened the doors of the Lord's house in the morning.
The same fidelity to the appointed task shines through the life of the Lord Jesus. Think, for instance, of the Transfiguration (Matt. 17:1-9; Mark 9:2-9). For Him that was an hour of vision. He was glorified in the fellowship of heaven. He saw His cross in the light of law and prophecy-for Moses and Elias spoke with Him. Could we have wondered had He lingered there in the ecstasy of heavenly vision, disdainful of the lowlier tasks of love? What a contrast between that glorious hour and the spectacle of the epileptic boy. Wh ...
George H. Morrison
1 Samuel 3:4, 15
This was the great hour in Samuel's life. It was both his conversion and his call. We can imagine the intense excitement it must have stirred within that boyish heart. Hitherto Samuel had been a child. His farthest horizon had been his mother's home. He had been happy, as any child would be, doing his little tasks within the sanctuary. Now God had spoken to him, and called him by his name, and come into living personal contact with him, and the world of childhood had vanished like a dream. Old things had passed away; all things had become new. He had heard the voice that alters everything so that life never can be the same again. And the beautiful thing is that having heard it, Samuel lay quite quiet until the morning and then opened the doors of the Lord's house. It was a strange task after such a night. It accorded ill with the vision in the darkness. Was it for him, who had been favored so, to sweep the floor and draw aside the curtains? It is characteristic of this faithful soul that, after an hour that changed the world for him, he went back again to lowly menial duty. Voice or no voice, these doors must be opened. That was his personal and given task. No vision, however exciting or unsettling, must hinder him in his appointed office. It is a splendid trait in Samuel's character that, after the most thrilling hour of his life, he opened the doors of the Lord's house in the morning.
The same fidelity to the appointed task shines through the life of the Lord Jesus. Think, for instance, of the Transfiguration (Matt. 17:1-9; Mark 9:2-9). For Him that was an hour of vision. He was glorified in the fellowship of heaven. He saw His cross in the light of law and prophecy-for Moses and Elias spoke with Him. Could we have wondered had He lingered there in the ecstasy of heavenly vision, disdainful of the lowlier tasks of love? What a contrast between that glorious hour and the spectacle of the epileptic boy. Wh ...
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