The Son of man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister—Matt. 20: 28.
If the consecration be to the Lord, then every sacrifice of our just rights and interests on behalf of ourselves as Christians, on behalf of husband or children, father or mother, neighbors or friends, brethren in Christ, is counted of the Lord as so much done to Him; whereas if the very same services were rendered from any other standpoint—by anyone unjustified, and not consecrated to the Lord, or merely done to the individuals and not as a sacrifice unto the Lord—these things would not count to us as His followers, as our sacrifices.
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How eminently proper that the Son of Man, Adam's pre-eminent descendant, should come not to be ministered unto, but to minister; and how greatly superior therein is the Son of Man to the man Adam, in that the latter by serving self wrecked the hopes of the race, while Jesus by serving others worked out salvation for the entire race. He was as superior to the first Adam as unselfishness is superior to selfishness, and is our example, the following of which will make us fit for the Kingdom.
Parallel passages: Matt. 1: 21; 4: 23; 5: 17; 9: 13; 15: 24; 18: 11-14; 20: 25-27; Mark 1: 38; Luke 1: 78; 4: 18; 22: 27; John 4: 34; 10: 10; 13: 4-17; 18: 37; Acts 10: 38; Gal. 5: 13; Heb. 2: 9, 14, 15, 18; 2Cor. 8: 9;
Questions: What has this text meant to me this week? How did I use it? Why? What did it effect?
HE THAT SCATTERETH INCREASETH
IS thy cruse of comfort failing?
Rise and share it with another,
And through all the years of famine
It shall serve thee and thy brother.
Love Divine will fill thy storehouse,
Or thy handful still renew;
Scanty fare for one will often
Make a royal feast for two.
For the heart grows rich in giving;
All its wealth is living grain;
Seeds which mildew in the garner,
Scattered, fill with gold the plain.
Is thy burden hard and heavy?
Do thy steps drag wearily?
Help to bear thy brother's burden;
God will bear both it and thee.
Numb and weary on the mountains,
Wouldst thou sleep amid the snow?
Chafe that frozen form beside thee,
And together both shall glow.
Art thou stricken in life's battle?
Many wounded round thee moan;
Lavish on their wounds thy balsams,
And that balm shall heal thine own.
Is thy heart a well left empty?
None but God its void can fill;
Nothing but a ceaseless Fountain
Can its ceaseless longings still.
Is thy heart a living power?
Self-entwined, its strength sinks low;
It can only live in loving,
And by serving love will grow.
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