My Daily Meditation for the Circling Year | Page 9

be like "a sea of glass
mingled with fire." There can be more smoke than light in it, more
selfish passion than holy purpose. The fuel that feeds it may be envy,
and jealousy, and spite, and not a big desire for the good of men and
the glory of God. Worldly anger "is set on fire of hell"; holy anger
borrows flame from the altar-fires of God.
Our anger reveals our character. What is the quality of our anger? What
kindles it? Is it incited by our own wrongs or by the wrongs of another?
Is it set on fire by self-indulgence or by a noble sympathy? Here is a
sentence which describes the anger of the Apostle Paul: "Who is made
to stumble and I burn not?" Paul's holy anger was made to burn by
oppression, by the cruelty inflicted upon his fellow-men. His fire had
nothing unclean in it; it was pure as the flame of oxygen.
This is the anger we must cherish. We cannot "work ourselves up" into

it. We must seek to be "baptized with the Holy Ghost and with fire."

JANUARY The Twenty-ninth
NOBLE REVENGE
"I have delivered him that without cause is mine enemy." --PSALM vii.
4.
That is the noblest revenge, and in those moments David had intimate
knowledge of the spirit of his Lord. "If thine enemy hunger, feed him!"
Evil for good is devil-like. To receive a favour and to return a blow! To
obtain the gift of language, and then to use one's speech to curse the
giver! To use a sacred sword is unholy warfare! All this is devil-like.
Evil for evil is beast-like. Yes, the dog bites back when it is bitten. The
dog returns snarl for snarl, venom for venom. And if, when I have been
injured, I "pay a man back in his own coin," if I "give him as good as
he gave," I am living on the plane of the beast.
Good for good is man-like. When I requite a man's kindness by
kindness! When I send presents to one who loads me with benefits!
This is a true and manly thing to do, and lifts us far above the beast.
Good for evil is God-like. Yes, that lifts me into "the heavenly places in
Christ Jesus." Then I have "the mind of Christ." Then do I unto others
as my Saviour has done unto me.

JANUARY The Thirtieth
IRRESISTIBLE ARTILLERY
"When I cry unto Thee, then shall mine enemies turn back." --PSALM
lvi.

But it must be a real "cry"! It must not be an idle recitation which sheds
no blood. It must be a cry like the cry of the drowning, a cry which
cleaves the air like a bullet. Said a man to me some while ago, "Assault
the heavens with cries for me!" That is the cry which takes the kingdom
by storm.
When such a cry rends the heavens, "my enemies turn back." A secret
and irresistible artillery begins to play upon them, and their strength
fails. Yes, believing prayer calls these invisible allies into the field.
"The mountains are full of horses and chariots of fire round about!"
And the enemy flies!
"This I know." The psalmist is building upon experience. The miracle
has happened a hundred times. Many a morning has he seen the enemy
vaingloriously tramping the field, and he has cried unto the Lord, and
before nightfall there has been a perfect rout. Blessed is the man who
has had such heartening dealings with the Lord that he can now face a
hostile host in unclouded faith and assurance!

JANUARY The Thirty-first
UNDER HIS WINGS
"In the shadow of Thy wings will I make my refuge." --PSALM lvii.
Could anything be more tenderly gracious than this figure of hiding
under the shadow of God's wings? It speaks of bosom-warmth, and
bosom-shelter, and bosom-rest. "Let me to Thy bosom fly!"
And what strong wings they are! Under those wings I am secure even
from the lions. My animal passions shall not hurt me when I am "hiding
in God." The fiercest onslaughts of the devil are powerless to break
those mighty wings. The tenderest little chick, "one of these little
ones," nestling behind this soft and gentle shelter, shall be perfectly
secure; "none of its bones shall be broken."
I do not wonder that this sheltering psalmist begins to sing! "I will sing

and give praise!" I have often listened to the sheltering chicks, hiding
behind the mother's wings, and I have heard that quaint, comfortable,
contented sound for which our language has no name. It is a sound of
incipient song, the musical murmur of satisfaction. "I will sing unto
Thee ... for Thy mercy is great."

FEBRUARY The First
THE SOUL