There are three ways in which true devotedness will show itself in Christians:
(1) To the Lord’s person, as illustrated in Anna.
(2) In the appreciation of the fact of His death, as illustrated in Mary.
(3) In devotion to His interest on earth, as illustrated in the widow and her mites.
Fifty-five is the retiring age for Government officials who work under the burning skies of India; sixty for officials in this country. But there is no age limit for devotedness, and devotedness is the crying need of these days.
Himself
Of this needed devotion we have a fine example in Anna (Luke 2:36-38); she knew no age limit. In her time there were dark days in Israel. For four centuries no prophet had come among them with burning tongue to revive their hopes. There was no Shekinah glory in the temple. Things were indeed at a low ebb.
But Anna departed not from the temple. She had read with glowing heart the words of the prophet, “The Lord, whom ye seek, shall SUDDENLY come to His temple, even the messenger of the covenant, whom ye delight in: behold, He shall come, says the Lord of Hosts” (Mal. 3:1); and for the fulfilment of this she looked and waited.
She was a widow of about fourscore and four years, yet she served God with fastings and prayers night and day.
Day after day, month after month, year after year, she was found in the temple, waiting for the Lord. Dear, happy, devoted Anna!
What ecstatic joy was hers when Malachi’s prophecy received a partial fulfilment—a sweeter fulfilment, if possible, than the time of its actual fulfilment, when the Lord shall come in a future day in discriminating judgment to set up His kingdom over His people; for in anticipation of that great and terrible day, we read: “Who may abide the day of His coming? And who shall stand when He appeareth?” (Mal. 3:2).
This coming was all of grace. A babe in Simeon’s arms—the Sign of Isaiah’s matchless prophecy—Emmanuel indeed, God with us! What a moment of supreme joy for the long-waiting widow!
Aged though she was, she hurried out with the glad tidings to those who looked for redemption in Jerusalem, and her devotedness is expressed in the beautiful words: “SHE SPAKE OF HIM.”
What a delightful sight for heaven! What a theme was hers! There is nothing like it.
His Death
It was but two days before the feast of the passover. The chief priests and scribes, outwardly orthodox, inwardly wicked hypocrites, professing to receive the words of Moses, yet rejecting Him of whom Moses spoke, were plotting to put Jesus to death. They would stoop to craft, they would suborn false witnesses, if only they could accomplish their devilish work.
Not far away—at Bethany—the Lord was sitting at meat in the house of Simon the leper. There was Simon, grateful that the divine word had dispelled the loathsome leprosy; and doubtless Lazarus, raised from the dead by the same wonderful voice, and Mary and Martha, grateful sisters, who had seen the tears that ran down His cheeks in sympathy with their sorrow. Here was doubtless a picture of future and universal blessing. Yet that future could only be secured by His death. Little did the disciples understand the meaning of what lay before their Lord and Master. But devotedness is quick-witted.
Mary broke the alabaster box of costly spikenard, and anointed the blessed person of her Lord. This ointment a Jewish woman treasured for the great event of her life—her marriage. The possession of it gave distinction to her, and its use was reserved for the most joyous day of her life. Mary, in effect said, “I want no distinction where my Lord has none. If He has a grave, my best shall go into His grave. I want nothing but Himself. His death will close earth for me.” Blessed devotedness!
The disciples murmured. The ointment was worth three hundred pence. Why this waste? Why not given to the poor? Au! such murmurers really loved the poor but little, for they loved the Lord little. Who cared for the poor as Christ did!
But the Lord valued her devotedness, and wherever the gospel shall be preached this deed of hers shall be narrated. The Lord praised her, defending her from the complaints of those less devoted in memorable words. This was her reward: “She has done what she could.”
But note, her action was governed by a sense of His death and its import: hence its fitting character. Oh! That devotedness to the Lord might make us feel the chill of His rejection, the emptiness of this world that has no room for Him.
“Farewell, farewell, poor faithless world,
With all thy boasted store;
We’d not have joy, where He had woe,
Be rich where He was poor.”
His Interests
Jesus sat over against the treasury watching the people casting in their gifts in support of the temple worship.
He marked how the rich cast in liberally. They had abundance and gave freely and had plenty left. But His heart was moved with joy as He beheld a poor widow casting in two mites. It was her all—her living. His omniscience knew it, and He called attention to it. What made her act thus? Was it recklessness? Nay, it was devotedness!
The temple was God’s temple, His Name was there, and her heart was devoted to that to which His Name was attached.
How the Lord prized that act! As it were He placed the heaped-up offerings of the rich and wealthy in one side of the scales of the sanctuary, and the widow’s two mites in the other, and lo! the mites go down and the heaped-up weight of brass goes up. How is that? They say that the emanations of radium are immeasurable and yet imponderable. The emanations of devotedness may be immeasurable, but they are the reverse of imponderable—two mites plus devotedness weighed more than that multitude of coins given carelessly by the rich.
And mark, the poor widow was not in the difficulty of having only a single coin, of having to give all or keep all. The sacred narrative tells us she had two mites, which make a farthing. She might have given one and kept one. But no, the Lord speaks of her in high praise: “She … cast in all that she had, even all her living.”
We often hear of the widow’s mite being given, generally an excuse for a paltry dole. But our Lord never spoke of “the widow’s mite,” but of “the widow’s mites.”
Christ has His interests on earth, for His church, His body is here. He is not indifferent to it, for He loved it, and gave Himself for it; and those who are truly devoted to Him will not forget this great fact, they will be prepared to spend and be spent for it because it is dear to Him.
Oh for devotedness of heart to our absent Lord! We need say nothing about our service, our intelligence, our giving—all, all will fall into its right place and proportions if the heart is right, if devotedness is ours.