It is possible for a man to read too many books. We will not despise learning, we will book undervalue education, such achievements are very desirable; and, when his talents are sanctified to God, the man of learning frequently becomes, in the hands of the Spirit, far more useful than the ignorant and the uneducated; but at the same time, if a man acquires his knowledge entirely from books, he will not find himself to be a very wise man. There is such a thing as packing so many books in your brains that they cannot work—pouring in piles of type, and letters, and manuscripts, and papers, and pamphlets, and volumes, and books in your head, that your brains are absolutely buried and cannot move at all. I believe that many of us, even as we have sought to learn by books, have neglected those great volumes which God has given us; we have neglected to study this great book, the Bible!
Moreover, perhaps, we have not been careful enough students of the great volume of nature, and we have forgotten that other great book, the human heart. For my own part, I desire to be somewhat a student of the heart; and I think I have learned far more from conversation with my fellowmen than I ever did from reading, and the examination of my own experience, and the workings of my own heart, have taught me far more of humanity than all the intellectually challenging and abstract books I have ever perused. I like to read the book of my fellow creatures; nothing delights me so much as when I see a multitude of them gathered together, or when I have the opportunity of having their hearts poured into mine, and mine into theirs. He will not be a wise man who does not study the human heart, and does not seek to know something of his fellow creatures and of himself. But if there is one book I love to read above all others, next to the book of God, it is the volume of nature.
I don’t care what letters they are that I read, whether they are the golden spellings of the name of God up above in the stars, or whether I read, in rougher lines, his name printed on the raging floods, or see it written in the beauty and awesomeness of the huge mountains, the rushing waterfall, or the quiet forest. Wherever I look in nature I love to discern my Father’s name spelled out in living characters; and when I can find any really green fields, I would do as Isaac did, go into the fields in the evening and muse and meditate upon the God of nature. I thought in the cool of last evening. I would reflect on my God, by his Holy Spirit, and see what message he would give me. There I sat and watched the clouds, and learned a lesson in the great hall of Nature’s college. The first thought that struck me was this, as I saw the white clouds rolling in the sky—that I will soon see my Savior mounted on a great white throne, riding on the clouds of heaven, to call men to judgment. My imagination could easily picture the scene, when the living and the dead would stand before his Great White Throne, and would hear his voice pronounce their eternal destiny. I remembered, moreover, that text in Ecclesiastics , “Whoever watches the wind will not plant; whoever looks at the clouds will not reap” [Ecclesiastes 11:4]. I thought how many times that I and my brother ministers have paid attention to the clouds. We have listened to the voice of prudence and of caution when we have stared at the clouds. We have stopped when we ought to have been sowing because we were afraid of the multitude, or we refused to reap and take in the people into our churches, because some good brother thought we were too quick about the matter. I rose up and thought to myself, I will pay no attention to the clouds nor the winds, but when the wind blows a hurricane I will throw the seed with my hands, if then the hurricane becomes even stronger, and the clouds even darker, still I will reap, and rest assured that God will preserve his own wheat, whether I gather it under the clouds of a hurricane or in the sunshine. And then, when I sat there considering God, thoughts struck me as the clouds rushed along through the skies, thoughts which I must give to you this morning. I trust they were somewhat for my own instruction, and possibly they may be for yours too. “The clouds are the dust of his feet.”
I. Well, the first remark I make on this subject will be—the way of God is generally hidden.
This we gather from the text, by noting the connection, “The Lord has his way is in the whirlwind [Greek: “hurricane”] and the storm, and clouds are the dust of his feet” [Nahum 1:3]. When God works his wonders he always conceals himself. Even the motion of his feet causes clouds to arise; and if these; clouds are but the dust of his feet,” how deep must be that dense darkness which veils the Eternal God. If the small dust which he causes is of equal magnitude with our clouds—if we can find no other figure to image “the dust of his feet” than the clouds of heaven, then, how obscure must be the motions of the Eternal One, how hidden and how shrouded in darkness! This great truth suggested by the text, is well borne out by facts. The ways of God are hidden ones. Cowper was correct when he sang,—
“He plants his footsteps in the sea,
And rides upon the storm.”
“This article originally appeared here at Bible Bulletin Board.”
