We yearn for some glimpse of the spiritual world such as would confirm our deepest convictions of its existence and substantial reality, forgetting that the material world is palpable evidence enough, for the spiritual is both hidden and revealed by it. Matter would have no being but for spirit, and matter is the way in which spirit expresses its life and power. Every object seen and temporal is an open window into its spiritual equivalent in the unseen and eternal world. Material and spiritual are thus co-related like soul and body, and mutually serve each other.
Shall we not then go afresh to the outward creation, especially at this springtide of resurrection
after the sleep of winter, and enter more intelligently into the glory and superlative greatness of
that world that is constantly seeking to utter itself in a myriad ways to man, lest we should be
classed with the unconcerned rustic of whom the poet declares:
"A primrose by a river's brim,
A yellow primrose was to him,
And nothing more."
Not understanding the inwardness of creation is apt to cast a veil over the eye preventing a clear view of the inwardness of redemption. For this also a hiding with a view to a revealing was necessary. "The Word" that in the beginning made all things, in the fullness of time "became flesh, and dwelt (or pitched His tent) among us, and we beheld His glory, the glory as of the Only Begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth." In other words, God revealed His glory by hiding it beneath the veil of the flesh; and that mystic veil was finally rent asunder from the top to the bottom, when as a Conqueror over all our sins and temptations, yea over the hatred and malice of the world, of hell and the powers of darkness, He cried with a loud voice: "It is finished." Thus was God fully told out when "eternal redemption" had been secured for man. Shall we not draw near with unshod feet and look more steadfastly upon "that wondrous sight?"
And more. The Creator, who Himself became Redeemer, even at uttermost cost, is also our Regenerator, and that by the same method. The Kingdom of God is in its beginnings like a grain of mustard seed, which is the least of all seeds, hid in the field of human hearts. In "a good and honest heart,'' where evil, even in its first suggestions, is abominated, and where thus a true work of repentance is witnessed, a living faith, working by a love that gladly keeps the commandments of the Lord, springs up out of the hidden seed of the Kingdom, which is, "Christ in you, the Hope of Glory." Truly the Kingdom of heaven is like unto a treasure hid in a field, and if men only knew it, how near it is in their own field, complaining it may be of its sterility and hardness, they would for joy thereof sell out all and make a full surrender, so as to obtain the heavenly treasure in which Divine life and salvation are found!
And where shall we stop? Is not our holy Book written on this self same plan? There, too, we meet with a revealing by means of a concealing. To some the sacred, inspired writings maybe like the Lord's garments which the soldiers tore in pieces and divided among themselves. The natural mind, unaided by heavenly light, can only make confusion of the precious records. But to those feeling the plague of their own hearts and the need of Divine healing, they are like the self-same garment which the woman touched and by faith liberated the holy virtue that was in the Lord for her healing. That garment was not the Lord, but it was a vehicle by which His power often reached to the condition of those under the pressure of dire need. And so it is with the Scriptures of Truth. They both hide and reveal our Lord. May we value them more than ever before.
And lastly. Is not thy life and mine planned on this pattern? Is not the Divine providence, which reaches down to every detail of our life, counting, as it were, the very hairs of our head, both a concealing and a revealing? Shall we then not trust our heavenly Father, even in the dark? I know not whose eyes may perchance fall upon these lines. But I earnestly plead for a more triumphant acknowledgment of the loving kindness of God conjoined with perfect wisdom in all His dealings with us, even those that seem most baffling to the natural mind. There is a hidden glory in the daily cross. There is a celestial brightness in the gloomiest cloud of sorrow. There is unearthly sweetness at the bottom of the bitterest cup of disappointment, if drunk in joyful faith.