<center><h3>CHAPTER III</h3></center>
<center><h3>MAKING READY THE CHOSEN VESSEL</h3></center>
<p>THE workman of God needs to wait on Him to know the work he is to do and
the sphere where he is to serve Him.</p>
<p>Mature disciples at Halle advised George Müller for the time thus
quietly to wait for divine guidance, and meanwhile to take no further
steps toward the mission field. He felt unable, however, to dismiss the
question, and was so impatient to settle it that he made the common
blunder of attempting to come to a decision in a carnal way. <i>He
resorted to the lot,</i> and not only so, but to the lot as cast in the lap
of the <i>lottery!</i> In other words, he first drew a lot in private, and
then bought a ticket in a royal lottery, expecting his steps to be
guided in a matter so solemn as the choice of a field for the service of
God, by the turn of the 'wheel of fortune'! Should his ticket draw a
prize he would <i>go;</i> if not, <i>stay</i> at home. Having drawn a small sum,
he accordingly accepted this as a 'sign,' and at once applied to the
Berlin Missionary Society, but was not accepted because his application
was not accompanied with his father's consent.</p>
<p>Thus a higher Hand had disposed while man proposed. God kept out of the
mission field, at this juncture, one so utterly unfit for His work that
he had not even learned that primary lesson that he who would work with
God must first wait on Him and wait for Him, and that all undue haste in
such a matter is worse than waste. He who kept Moses waiting forty years
before He sent him to lead out captive Israel, who withdrew Saul of
Tarsus three years into Arabia before he sent him as an apostle to the
nations, and who left even His own Son thirty years in obscurity before
His manifestation as Messiah—this God is in no hurry to put other
servants at work. He says to all impatient souls: "My time is not yet
full come, but your time is always ready."</p>
<p>Only twice after this did George Müller ever resort to the lot: once at
a literal parting of the ways when he was led by it to take the wrong
fork of the road, and afterward in a far more important matter, but with
a like result: in both cases he found he had been misled, and henceforth
abandoned all such chance methods of determining the mind of God. He
learned two lessons, which new dealings of God more and more deeply
impressed:</p>
<p>First, that the safe guide in every crisis is believing prayer in
connection with the word of God.</p>
<p>Secondly, that continued uncertainty as to one's course is a reason for
continued waiting.</p>
<p>These lessons should not be lightly passed over, for they are too
valuable. The flesh is impatient of all delay, both in decision and
action; hence all carnal choices are immature and premature, and all
carnal courses are mistaken and unspiritual. God is often moved to delay
that we may be led to pray, and even the answers to prayer are deferred
that the natural and carnal spirit may be kept in check and self-will
may bow before the will of God.</p>
<p>In a calm review of his course many years later George Müller saw that
he "ran hastily to the lot" as a shorter way of settling a doubtful
matter, and that, especially in the question of God's call to the
mission field, this was shockingly improper. He saw also how unfit he
had been at that time for the work he sought: he should rather have
asked himself how one so ignorant and so needing to be taught could
think of teaching others! Though a child of God, he could not as yet
have given a clear statement or explanation of the most elementary
gospel truths. The one thing needful was therefore to have sought
through much prayer and Bible study to get first of all a deeper
knowledge and a deeper experience of divine things. Impatience to settle
a matter so important was itself seen to be a positive disqualification
for true service, revealing unfitness to endure hardship as a good
soldier of Jesus Christ. There is a constant strain and drain on patient
waiting which is a necessary feature of missionary trial and
particularly the trial of deferred harvests. One who, at the outset,
could not brook delay in making his first decision, and wait for God to
make known His will in His own way and time, would not on the field have
had long patience as a husbandman, waiting for the precious fruit of his
toil, or have met with quietness of spirit the thousand perplexing
problems of work among the heathen!</p>
<p>Moreover the conviction grew that, could he have followed the lot, his
choice would have been a life-mistake. His mind, at that time, was bent
upon the East Indies as a field. Yet all subsequent events clearly
showed that God's choice for him was totally different. His repeated
offers met as repeated refusals, and though on subsequent occasions he
acted most deliberately and solemnly, no open door was found, but he was
in every case kept from following out his honest purpose. Nor could the
lot be justified as an indication of his <i>ultimate</i> call to the mission
field, for the purpose of it was definite, namely, to ascertain, not
whether <i>at some period of his life</i> he was to go forth, but whether <i>at
that time</i> he was to go or stay. The whole after-life of George Müller
proved that God had for him an entirely different plan, which He was not
ready yet to reveal, and which His servant was not yet prepared to see
or follow. If any man's life ever was a plan of God, surely this life
was; and the Lord's distinct, emphatic leading, when made known, was not
in this direction. He had purposed for George Müller a larger field than
the Indies, and a wider witness than even the gospel message to heathen
peoples. He was 'not suffered' to go into 'Bithynia' because 'Macedonia'
was waiting for his ministry.</p>
<p>With increasing frequency, earnestness, and minuteness, was George
Müller led to put before God, in prayer, all matters that lay upon his
mind. This man was to be peculiarly an example to believers as an
<i>intercessor;</i> and so God gave him from the outset a very <i>simple,
childlike disposition</i> toward Himself. In many things he was in
knowledge and in strength to outgrow childhood and become a man, for it
marks immaturity when we err through ignorance and are overcome through
weakness. But in faith and in the filial spirit, he always continued to
be a little child. Mr. J. Hudson Taylor well reminds us that while in
nature the normal order of growth is from childhood to manhood and so to
maturity, in <i>grace</i> the true development is perpetually backward toward
the cradle: we must become and continue as little children, not losing,
but rather gaining, childlikeness of spirit. The disciple's maturest
manhood is only the perfection of his childhood. George Müller was never
so really, truly, fully a little child in all his relations to his
Father, as when in the ninety-third year of his age.</p>
<p>Being thus providentially kept from the Indies, he began definite work
at home, though yet having little real knowledge of the divine art of
coworking with God. He spoke to others of their soul's welfare, and
wrote to former companions in sin, and circulated tracts and missionary
papers. Nor were his labours without encouragement, though sometimes his
methods were awkward or even grotesque, as when, speaking to a beggar in
the fields about his need of salvation, he tried to overcome apathetic
indifference by speaking louder and louder, as though, mere bawling in
his ears would subdue the hardness of his heart!</p>
<p>In 1826 he first attempted to <i>preach.</i> An unconverted schoolmaster some
six miles from Halle he was the means of turning to the Lord; and this
schoolmaster asked him to come and help an aged, infirm clergyman in the
parish. Being a student of divinity he was at liberty to preach, but
conscious ignorance had hitherto restrained him. He thought, however,
that by committing some other man's sermon to memory he might profit the
hearers, and so he undertook it. It was slavish work to prepare, for it
took most of a week to memorize the sermon, and it was joyless work to
deliver it, for there was none of the living power that attends a man's
God-given message and witness. His conscience was not yet enlightened
enough to see that he was acting a false part in preaching another's
sermon as his own; nor had he the spiritual insight to perceive that it
is not God's way to set up a man to preach who knows not enough of
either His word or the life of the Spirit within him, to prepare his own
discourse. How few even among preachers feel preaching to be <i>a divine
vocation and not a mere human profession;</i> that a ministry of the truth
implies the witness of experience, and that to preach another man's
sermon is, at the best, unnatural walking on stilts!</p>
<p>George Müller 'got through' his painful effort of August 27, 1826,
reciting this memoriter sermon at eight A.M. in the chapel of ease, and
three hours later in the parish church. Being asked to preach again in
the afternoon, but having no second sermon committed to memory, he had
to keep silent, or <i>depend on the Lord for help.</i> He thought he could at
least read the fifth chapter of Matthew, and simply expound it. But he
had no sooner begun the first beatitude than he felt himself greatly
assisted. Not only were his lips opened, but the Scriptures were opened
too, his own soul expanded, and a peace and power, wholly unknown to his
tame, mechanical repetitions of the morning, accompanied the simpler
expositions of the afternoon, with this added advantage, that he talked
on a level with the people and not over their heads, his colloquial,
earnest speech riveting their attention.</p>
<p>Going back to Halle, he said to himself, 'This is the <i>true way to
preach,</i>' albeit he felt misgivings lest such a simple style of
exposition might not suit so well a cultured refined city congregation.
He had yet to learn how the enticing words of man's wisdom make the
cross of Christ of none effect, and how the very simplicity that makes
preaching intelligible to the illiterate makes sure that the most
cultivated will also understand it, whereas the reverse is not true.</p>
<p>Here was another very important <i>step in his preparation</i> for subsequent
service. He was to rank throughout life among the simplest and most
scriptural of preachers. This first trial of pulpit-work led to frequent
sermons, and in proportion as his speech was in the simplicity that is
in Christ did he find joy in his work and a harvest from it. The
committed sermon of some great preacher might draw forth human praise,
but it was the simple witness of the Word, and of the believer to the
Word, that had praise of God. His preaching was not then much owned of
God in fruit. Doubtless the Lord saw that he was not ready for reaping,
and scarcely for sowing: there was yet too little prayer in preparation
and too little unction in delivery, and so his labours were
comparatively barren of results.</p>
<p>About this same time he took another step—perhaps the most significant
thus far in its bearing on the precise form of work so closely linked
with his name. For some two months he availed himself of the free
lodgings furnished for poor divinity students in the famous <i>Orphan
Houses built by A. H. Francke.</i> This saintly man, a professor of
divinity at Halle, who had died a hundred years before (1727), had been
led to found an orphanage in entire dependence upon God. Half
unconsciously George Müller's whole life-work at Bristol found both its
suggestion and pattern in Francke's orphanage at Halle. The very
building where this young student lodged was to him an object lesson—a
visible, veritable, tangible proof that the Living God hears prayer, and
can, in answer to prayer alone, build a house for orphan children. That
lesson was never lost, and George Müller fell into the apostolic
succession of such holy labour! He often records how much his own
faith-work was indebted to that example of simple trust in prayer
exhibited by Francke. Seven years later he read his life, and was
thereby still more prompted to follow him as he followed Christ.</p>
<p>George Müller's spiritual life in these early days was strangely
chequered. For instance, he who, as a Lutheran divinity student, was
essaying to preach, hung up in his room a framed crucifix, hoping
thereby to keep in mind the sufferings of Christ and so less frequently
fall into sin. Such helps, however, availed him little, for while he
rested upon such artificial props, it seemed as though he sinned the
oftener.</p>
<p>He was at this time overworking, writing sometimes fourteen hours a day,
and this induced nervous depression, which exposed him to various
temptations. He ventured into a confectioner's shop where wine and beer
were sold, and then suffered reproaches of conscience for conduct so
unbecoming a believer; and he found himself indulging ungracious and
ungrateful thoughts of God, who, instead of visiting him with deserved
chastisement, multiplied His tender mercies.</p>
<p>He wrote to a rich, liberal and titled lady, asking a loan, and received
the exact sum asked for, with a letter, not from her, but from another
into whose hands his letter had fallen by "a peculiar providence," and
who signed it as "An adoring worshipper of the Saviour Jesus Christ."
While led to send the money asked for, the writer added wise words of
caution and counsel—words so fitted to George Müller's exact need that
he saw plainly the higher Hand that had guided the anonymous writer. In
that letter he was urged to "seek by watching and prayer to be delivered
from all vanity and self-complacency," to make it his "chief aim to be
more and more humble, faithful, and quiet," and not to be of those who
"say 'Lord, Lord,' but have Him not deeply in their hearts." He was also
reminded that "Christianity consists not in words but in power, and that
there must be life in us."</p>
<p>He was deeply moved by this message from God through an unknown party,
and the more as it had come, with its enclosure, at the time when he was
not only guilty of conduct unbecoming a disciple, but indulging hard
thoughts of his heavenly Father. He went out to walk alone, and was so
deeply wrought on by God's goodness and his own ingratitude that he
knelt behind a hedge, and, though in snow a foot deep, he forgot himself
for a half-hour in praise, prayer, and self-surrender.</p>
<p>Yet so deceitful is the human heart that a few weeks later he was in
such a backslidden state that, for a time, he was again both careless
and prayerless, and one day sought to drown the voice of conscience in
the wine-cup. The merciful Father gave not up his child to folly and
sin. He who once could have gone to great lengths in dissipation now
found a few glasses of wine more than enough; his relish for such
pleasures was gone, and so was the power to silence the still small
voice of conscience and of the Spirit of God.</p>
<p>Such vacillations in Christian experience were due in part to the lack
of holy associations and devout companionships. Every disciple needs
help in holy living, and this young believer yearned for that spiritual
uplift afforded by sympathetic fellow believers. In vacation times he
had found at Gnadau, the Moravian settlement some three miles from his
father's residence, such soul refreshment, but Halle itself supplied
little help. He went often to church, but seldom heard the Gospel, and
in that town of over 30,000, with all its ministers, he found not one
enlightened clergyman. When, therefore, he could hear such a preacher as
Dr. Tholuck, he would walk ten or fifteen miles to enjoy such a
privilege. The meetings continued at Mr. Wagner's house; and on the
Lord's day evenings some six or more believing students were wont to
gather, and both these assemblies were means of grace. From Easter,
1827, so long as he remained in Halle, this latter meeting was held in
his own room, and must rank alongside those little gatherings of the
"Holy Club" in Lincoln College, Oxford, which a hundred years before had
shaped the Wesleys and Whitefield for their great careers. Before George
Müller left Halle the attendance at this weekly meeting in his room had
grown to twenty.</p>
<p>These assemblies were throughout very simple and primitive. In addition
to prayer, singing, and reading of God's word, one or more brethren
exhorted or read extracts from devout books. Here young Müller freely
opened his heart to others, and through their counsels and prayers was
delivered from many snares.</p>
<p>One lesson, yet to be learned, was that the one fountain of all wisdom
and strength is the Holy Scriptures. Many disciples practically prefer
religious books to the Book of God. He had indeed found much of the
reading with which too many professed believers occupy their minds to be
but worthless chaff—such as French and German novels; but as yet he had
not formed the habit of reading the word of God daily and systematically
as in later life, almost to the exclusion of other books. In his
ninety-second year, he said to the writer, that for every page of any
other reading he was sure he read ten of the Bible. But, up to that
November day in 1825 when he first met a praying band of disciples, he
had never to his recollection read one chapter in the Book of books; and
for the first four years of his new life he gave to the works of
uninspired men practical preference over the Living Oracles.</p>
<p>After a true relish for the Scriptures had been created, he could not
understand how he could ever have treated God's Book with such neglect.
It seemed obvious that <i>God's having condescended to become an Author,</i>
inspiring holy men to write the Scriptures, He would in them impart the
most vital truths; His message would cover all matters which concern
man's welfare, and therefore, under the double impulse of duty and
delight, we should instinctively and habitually turn to the Bible.
Moreover, as he read and studied this Book of God, he felt himself
admitted to more and more <i>intimate acquaintance with the Author.</i>
During the last twenty years of his life he read it carefully through,
four or five times annually, with a growing sense of his own rapid
increase in the knowledge of God thereby.</p>
<p>Such motives for Bible study it is strange that any true believer should
overlook. Ruskin, in writing "Of the King's Treasuries," refers to the
universal ambition for 'advancement in life,' which means 'getting into
good society.' How many obstacles one finds in securing an introduction
to the great and good of this world, and even then in getting access to
them, in securing an audience with the kings and queens of human
society! Yet there is open to us a society of people of the very first
rank who will meet us and converse with us so long as we like, whatever
our ignorance, poverty, or low estate—namely, the society of authors;
and the key that unlocks their private audience-chamber is their books.</p>
<p>So writes Ruskin, and all this is beautifully true; but how few, even
among believers, appreciate the privilege of access to the great Author
of the universe through His word! Poor and rich, high and low, ignorant
and learned, young and old, all alike are welcomed to the
audience-chamber of the King of kings. The most intimate knowledge of
God is possible on one condition—that we search His Holy Scriptures,
prayerfully and habitually, and translate what we there find, into
obedience. Of him who thus meditates on God's law day and night, who
looks and continues looking into this perfect law of liberty, the
promise is unique, and found in both Testaments: "Whatsoever he doeth
shall prosper"; "that man shall be blessed in his deed." (Comp. Psalm i.
3; Joshua i. 8; James i. 25.)</p>
<p>So soon as George Müller found this well-spring of delight and success,
he drank habitually at this fountain of living waters. In later life he
lamented that, owing to his early neglect of this source of divine
wisdom and strength, he remained so long in spiritual infancy, with its
ignorance and impotence. So long and so far as his growth in knowledge
of God was thus arrested his growth in grace was likewise hindered. His
close walk with God began at the point where he learned that such walk
is always in the light of that inspired word which is divinely declared
to be to the obedient soul "a lamp unto the feet and a light unto the
path." He who would keep up intimate converse with the Lord must
habitually find in the Scriptures the highway of such companionship.
God's aristocracy, His nobility, the princes of His realm, are not the
wise, mighty, and high-born of earth, but often the poor, weak, despised
of men, who abide in His presence and devoutly commune with Him through
His inspired word.</p>
<p>Blessed are they who have thus learned to use the key which gives free
access, not only to the King's Treasuries, but to the King Himself!</p>
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