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Standing on a platform when the train, shooting out of some dark tunnel, dashes by with the rush of an eagle, and the roar of thunder; or, seated upon some lofty rock, when the mountain wave, driven on by the hurricane, and swelling, foaming, curling, bursts, and, passing on either side, rushes to roll along the beach — than these I know no situation, under heaven, where a man more feels his weakness. What hand could stop these flying wheels; or, seizing the billow by its snowy main, hold it back? Only one — God's own right hand. Great miracle that! A greater is here, in the sudden omnipotent arrest of Saul. With what impetus he moves on his career, and, breathing flames and slaughter, he rushes on his prey; but in a moment he is arrested in mid career, changed into little child. The hand that bent the arch of heaven has bent his iron will; and, now yielding himself up to Christ, he lies at His feet. Let us now consider what is implied in this question of his.

I. THAT EVERY TRUE CONVERT SUBMITS HIMSELF TO THE WILL OF CHRIST. It is not, What will my minister, parents, friends, etc.; but what wilt Thou have me to do?

1. This submission to another's will is the most difficult of things. It is easier to bend iron than a stubborn will. Does not every parent find it so? Happy are the children that have learned to say to a wise, good, Christian father, what Jesus said to His, "Not My will, but Thine be done." This submission to the will of another, the first, best lesson, the battle of the nursery, trains us for the battle of the world, and also the Church. And thus are we to yield our wills to Christ, not saying what would I wish, or what will this or that one say? but Speak, Lord, Thy servant heareth. In the church, in the place of business, in the family, in the world, What wilt Thou have me to do? There is a passage in the history of St. Francis that may throw light on this subject. The rule of the order which he founded was implicit submission to the superior. One day a monk proved refractory. He must be subdued. By order of St. Francis, a grave was dug, and the monk was put into it. The brothers began to shovel in the earth. When the mould had reached the wretch's knees, St. Francis bent down, and, fixing his eye on him, said, Are you dead yet — do you yield? There was no answer; down in that grave there seemed to stand a man with a will as iron as his own. The burial went on. When at length he was buried up to the neck, to the lips, St. Francis bent down once more, Are you dead yet? The monk lifted his eye to his superior to see in his cold, grey eyes no spark of feeling. Dead to all the weaknesses of humanity, St. Francis stood ready to give the signal that should finish the burial. It was not needed; the iron bent; the funeral was slopped; his will yielding to a stronger, the poor brother said, "I am dead." Popery is not so much a contradiction as a caricature of the truth. I would not be dead as these monks to any man. The reason which I have got from God Almighty is to bend blindly before no human authority. But the submission I refuse to man, Jesus, I give to Thee — not wrung from me by terror, but won by love. I wish to be dead, not as that monk, but as he who said, "I am crucified with Christ: nevertheless I live." Saul, the persecutor, was dead; but Paul, the great apostle, lived. "Yet not I," he adds, "but Christ liveth in me," etc.

2. Were it so with us, what happy, good, brave, devoted Christians we should be! I have seen a servant come in the morning to his master for orders, and leave to spend the day in executing them; and would that every one of us would go morning by morning to Christ, saying, with Saul, Lord what wilt Thou have me to do this day? There would be no difficulty in getting money for Christ's cause, or people to do His work. I have read how a troop of cavalry, dashing at the roaring cannon, would rush on to death; and how the forlorn hope would throw themselves, with a bound and a cheer, into the fiery breach, knowing that they should leave their bodies there — it was the will of their commander. And shall Christians do less for Christ? Are you your own? We have one Master in heaven; and if it be true that He bought us with His blood, what right has a Christian to himself?

II. THAT EVERY TRUE CONVERT FEELS HIS INDIVIDUAL RESPONSIBILITY. It is not only, Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do? but What wilt Thou have me to do?

1. In looking over some vast assembly one reflection naturally suggests itself — What power is here! You may smile at him who, standing by the cataract of Niagara, instead of being filled with admiration, began to calculate how much machinery that water power would turn. But it is a serious, stirring thought to think how much moral machinery all this power now before me could turn for good, were every scheming brain and busy hand, and willing heart, engaged in the service of God. What honour would accrue to God! what a revenue of glory to Jesus Christ, and what invaluable service to religion! It is impossible to estimate the power that lies latent in our Churches. We talk of the power latent in steam till Watts evoked its spirit from the waters, and set the giant to turn the iron arms of machinery. We talk of the power latent in the skies till science, seizing the spirit of the thunder, chained it to our service — abolishing distance, and flashing our thoughts across rolling seas to distant Continents. Yet what are these to the moral power that lies asleep in our congregations?

2. And why latent? Because men and women neither appreciate their individual influence, nor estimate their individual responsibilities. They cannot do everything; therefore they do nothing. They cannot blaze like a star; and, therefore, they won't shine like a glow worm; and so they are content that the few work, and that the many look on. Not thus are the woods clothed in green, but by every little leaf expanding its own form. Nor thus are fields covered with golden corn, but by every stalk of grain ripening its own head. You say, What can I do? oh, I have no power, nor influence, nor name, nor talents, nor money! Look at the coral reef yonder, which stretches its unbroken wall for a thousand leagues along the sea. How contemptible the architects; yet the aggregate of their labours, mocking our greatest breakwaters, how colossal! I know that all cannot be bright and burning lights; but see how that candle in a cottage window sends out its rays streaming far through the depths of night. Why should not we shine, though it should be to illumine only the narrow walls of our country's humblest home?

3. Consider how the greatest things done on earth have ever been done by little and little — little agents, and little things. How was the wall restored around Jerusalem? By each man, whether his house was an old palace or the rudest cabin, building the breach before his own door. How was the soil of the New World redeemed from gloomy forests? By each sturdy emigrant cultivating the patch round his own log cabin? How have the greatest battles been won? By the rank and file — every man holding his own post, and ready to die on the battlefield. And if the world is ever to be conquered for our Lord, it is not by ministers, nor by office bearers, nor by the great, and noble, and mighty; but by every member of Christ's body being a working member, and saying to Jesus, Lord what wilt Thou have me to do?

III. THAT THE LIFE OF THE TRUE CONVERT WILL BE ONE OF DEEDS. What wilt Thou have me not to believe or to profess, but to do.

1. I do not set deeds against doctrines, nor have I any sympathy with the fashion of setting small value on creeds; saying, It matters little what a man believes, if he does right. A man cannot do right unless he believes right, since every effect must have a cause. I know that doctrines are not deeds; that the foundation is not the superstructure. Yet that night when the rains descend, and the floods rise, and the winds blow, happy is the man whose storm-beaten house stands founded on a rock, and happier still the man, when the hour comes which shall sweep away all confidence in human merits, whose hopes of salvation stand on the Rock of Ages. Call creeds, as some do, but the bones, and not the living, lovely, breathing form of true religion; still, what were the body without the bones? Not less important the place that doctrines hold; and therefore I say, hold fast the profession of your faith.

2. Still, faith without works is dead. Useless the creeds that do not influence our conduct; the preaching that leads to no practice. Prayer meetings, sermons, are good; but they are not, as some make them, banquets where you are to enjoy yourselves. Would you see their proper use? Look at yon hardy and sun-burned man, sitting down in his cottage to a simple meal; and rising from the table to spend the strength it gives him at the labours of the field. So Sabbaths and religious services are to strengthen us for work — otherwise our religion is no less selfish than the lives of epicures. Our object should be to get strength to do God's work in this world, and to follow Him who, as our pattern as well as propitiation, went about continually doing good. Christ is the propitiation of none of whom he is not also the pattern; and on the last day you will never be asked what was your denomination or creed. No! It is fruit, not leaves nor even flowers, that is the test of the tree. Every tree that bringeth not forth good fruit shall be cut down, and east into the fire. Alive to this, what good we should do! how busy we should be! There would be no time for sin; little even for rest. Rest? What have we to do with that? From His cradle to the grave, did Christ ever rest? "My Father worketh hitherto, and I work." Earth for work, heaven for wages. "There remaineth a rest for the people of God."

(T. Guthrie, D. D.)

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KJV: And he trembling and astonished said, Lord, what wilt thou have me to do? And the Lord said unto him, Arise, and go into the city, and it shall be told thee what thou must do.

WEB: But rise up, and enter into the city, and you will be told what you must do."