My Utmost For His Highest Order Printed Copy

Author: Oswald Chambers
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Exceptional piece. Highly recommended!

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About the Book

"My Utmost for His Highest" is a devotional book by Oswald Chambers that offers daily reflections and insights on Christian faith and living. Chambers encourages readers to pursue a deeper relationship with God through surrender, obedience, and wholehearted devotion. The book challenges believers to prioritize spiritual growth and to seek God's will above all else in their lives.

Xi Shengmo

Xi Shengmo, whose birth name was Xi Zizhi, was born into a literary class family of traditional Chinese medical doctors in Western Zhang village near Linfen, Shanxi Province. Young Xi received traditional Chinese education which would one day place him among the ranks of the learned Confucian scholars. Among his friends, he was a high-spirited boy, very forceful in character and a born leader. But, when alone, there were always questions about human life, perplexing and disturbing him, and he longed for an answer to the problem of existence. When his father passed away, his estate was divided. Young Xi purchased a farm on the outskirts of the town. He now became a Confucian scholar who in 1851 obtained Xiu Cai (BA), the first of three literary degrees. He soon won the esteem of the humble villagers and was asked to mediate in quarrels, law suits and other emergencies. As a result, his reputation for wisdom spread far and wide. But with Xi, happiness and rest of soul were not purchased by such paltry trifles. His first wife passed way, leaving no children, and Confucianism did nothing to still the tumult of his soul. His study of Chinese classics, while stimulating the intellectual side of his nature, did not bring peace. At the age of thirty, he was married again, to a girl in her late teens, who became a loving and understanding wife. But the continued conflict in Xi’s soul was affecting his health. When friends suggested that an occasional use of the opium could do no harm and might bring relief, he decided to test its merits. Temporary exhilaration was followed by a deeper depression of spirit than he had suffered before, however. He soon became an addict and resorted to opium again and again, until he was only a shadow of his former self. Committed to death by his wife and friends, he was dressed in his best clothing and laid on his bed, awaiting the moment of departure. To his great relief, his world-weary spirit seemed to be leaving the body. Suddenly it was arrested by the authoritative command, “Go back! Go back!” Sadly, the order was obeyed and the sick man found himself again facing the realities of life. After his conversion, Xi never conceded that what had happened was the fantasy of a distorted mind, but felt rather that it was the voice of God. In 1877, a famine of fearful proportions stalked Shanxi province. For several years, there was no rain and, consequently, no crops. Thousands of people perished from hunger, diseases or suicide. In the midst of the distress, it was learned that two foreigners, David Hill (British Methodist missionary) and Timothy Richard (British Baptist missionary), had come to a nearby town. They wore Chinese dress, distributing food and money to the starving people. They also brought with them a religion of which the people of Shanxi never had heard. With the end of the severe famine in 1879, Hill and Richard conducted a unique type of literature evangelism at the time of the triennial examinations in Taiyuan, and offered prizes for the best literary essays on Christian themes, which covered such subjects as opium, images of the gods, and the regulation of the heart and life; the essays sought to lead scholars to examine the Christian faith. Urged on by his family to prove his prowess, Xi wrote four essays under four different names, and submitted them for examination. When the results were announced, he won three out of the four prizes offered. He went reluctantly to collect the prize from Hill at the missionary’s house in Pingyang, accompanied by his brother-in-law. Later Xi described the meeting: As daylight banished darkness, so did Mr. Hill’s presence dissipate all the idle rumors I had heard. All sense of fear was gone; my mind was at rest. I beheld his kindly eye and remembered the words of Mencius: ‘If a man’s heart is not right, his eye will certainly bespeak it.’ That face told me I was in the presence of a true, good man. Xi became Hill’s assistant in writing literary tracts and translating the New Testament. Within two months, he became a Christian and accepted Hill’s help in breaking his addiction to opium. After Xi started to read the Bible, the Book began to exert a great influence upon him, giving him hope of deliverance from the dreadful habit of opium smoking. One day, as he was reading the story of the crucifixion, he fell on his knees, with the Bible before him, weeping as he read. At that moment, he felt that the dying, yet living Savior, enfolded his weary soul in his great love. His search was ended; peace like a river became his portion. The slave of sin was now and forever the bond-servant of God. This peace did not last long, however; for a week, Xi neither ate nor slept. In the fierce combat between good and evil, he experienced almost every agony known to the human body. Weakness, faintness, dizziness, exhaustion, fever, chills, depression—-all attacked his enfeebled frame. When the struggle was most critical, the addict cried out, “Though I die, I never will touch opium again.” Through prayer “without ceasing” and Bible reading, it was revealed to him that only the Holy Spirit could enable him to conquer in the conflict. Xi said later of the Spirit: He did what man and medicine could not do. From that moment, my body was perfectly at rest. Then I knew that to break off opium without faith in Jesus would indeed be impossible. He was finally delivered from opium bondage and became a new man. When this victory over opium was won, Xi adopted the name Shengmo, meaning “conqueror of demons.” Along with a sense of abundant grace given him came an intense longing to spread the possibility of such an experience to men near and far. Soon he became convinced that he was commissioned by God to do that very thing. Thus, in a very brief time, he was converted, committed to holiness of life, and feeling a call to preach the Gospel. After Hill received a new appointment and returned to Hankou, Xi was baptized in November 1880 at Pingyang by J. C. Turner, missionary with the China Inland Mission (CIM). Subsequently he worked with CIM missionaries in pioneer evangelism in Shanxi and surrounding areas. His education, forceful personality, and spiritual gifts, together with a fervent faith expressed in a deep prayer life, quickly led to his emergence as a spiritual leader. Now the opium-drugged victims of Shanxi occupied Xi’s attention. The wide-spread use of the opiate required earnest and intense effort if the enslaved were to be rescued. His first attempt to do so was in a small town near his village. Since they were short of funds, Mrs. Xi sold some of her precious bridal garments and jewelry. They rented a shop and stocked it with medicines, and furnished it with Christian texts on the walls. For twenty years, the system adopted in this area became a pattern for between forty and fifty others that were opened as refuges for the users of opium. In each station, hundreds of persons were treated with pills that eventually Xi made himself by a secret formula which he believed was revealed to him by God. Loving care, presentation of Gospel truth, and much prayer led to the liberation of thousands of addicts, who then carried the news of their freedom to others. Every new patient was expected to attend daily prayer sessions. Indeed, only those willing to make prayer a major factor in their treatment were admitted. The pills, which took the place of expensive, imported ones, the supply of which had often failed at a crucial time, were the fruit of a season of fasting and prayer, plus Xi’s knowledge of native drugs. His notable achievement was to establish as many as 50 opium refuges in four provinces; these also functioned as centers for church planting. One of the largest of these centers was at Hongtong County, thirty miles north of Pingyang. These refuges were run by reformed addicts who had come through his system, first as patients, then as converts, evangelists, and assistant refuge keepers. Churches established as a result of the outreach by opium refuges were made up largely of recovered addicts. Xi remarked that his Christian life was a very real and constant warfare with the powers of Satan. His battle to develop that most effective evangelistic spearhead, the opium refuge project, met with opposition and difficulties. The only thing he could do was to ignore criticism and resist Satan with spiritual weapons. He relied on the strength of God, rather than his own. At times he became conscious of great fatigue and weakness, and these occasions became the call to much prayer and fasting, for it was in this way that he could know that some immediate, perplexing problem was to be prayed through. Always when he thought the will of God was ascertained, or the problem resolved, the unusual energy which was “usual” for him—- and which he considered to be from God—-was regained and the work resumed. Xi also developed a utopian community called Middle Eden, where he worshipped and ministered together with family members, 50 or 60 disciples, and many recovering opium addicts. Many of the hymns used in churches and the opium refuges were composed by Xi. These were published as Xi Shengmo Hymns by the Shanghai Presbyterian Press in 1912. Xi was an independent, strong-willed man. For the most part, he was respectful in his relationships with the Western missionaries, although some of them fiercely proud themselves noted that he frequently manifested an anti-foreign attitude. Not all agreed with his charismatic emphasis, his desire for control, nor his use of opium refuges as the principal method in his evangelism. Despite character weaknesses of impatience, dogmatism, and authoritarianism, which mellowed with years, he eventually came to exercise a ministry widely described as apostolic. His pastoral gifts leadership were recognized in 1886 when Hudson Taylor ordained him as superintending pastor over a wide area in Shanxi. Three groups of missionaries—-the seven CIM missionaries known as the Cambridge Seven, CIM single women, and CIM missionaries from Scandinavia—-worked under Xi’s direction. This reflected Taylor’s conviction that Western missionaries were merely the “scaffolding” in the building of an indigenous Chinese church. In 1895, Xi planned a conference in his own home village with the purpose of enlarging the refuge work. Two hundred persons were present, and the last sermon that he preached was unusually solemn. At the close of the conference, he decided to visit Mr. Dixon Hoste, who later was to succeed Hudson Taylor as General Director of the China Inland Mission. In the midst of genial conversation with Hoste, Xi fell to the ground unconscious. He rallied, suffering more from weakness than from pain. Within weeks, signs of a serious heart problem developed. For six months he remained with those who loved him. Xi ceased his labor and entered into everlasting rest on February 19, 1896. Sources Taylor, Mrs. Howard, Pastor Hsi: Confucian Scholar and Christian (1900; rev. 1949, 1989). Austin, Alvyn James, “Pilgrims and Strangers: The China Inland Mission in Britain, Canada, the United States and China 1865-1990” (Ph. D. diss., York University, North York, Ontario, 1996). Broomhall, A. J., Assault on the Nine, Book 6: of Hudson Taylor and China’s Open Century (1988). Latourette, Kenneth Scott, A History of Christian Missions in China (1966). About the Author G. Wright Doyle, Director, Global China Center; English Editor, Biographical Dictionary of Chinese Christianity, Charlottesville, Virginia, USA.

god's aged pilgrims

There are no Methuselahs among men today. Even those who live the longest are junior to Jacob, who at the age of a hundred and thirty declared that his years had been few (Gen. 47:9). There are many, however, who in the language of the Bible, are "well stricken in years." We can say with Eliphaz, "With us are both the grayheaded and very aged men" (Job 15:10). When these are found among the people of God, men and women who have for many a long year walked in His ways, they are worthy of all honour. Monuments of Mercy We love and value our aged brethren and sisters. How it encourages us to see them, monuments of divine mercy, kept by the power of God through all the ups and downs of a long life. We thank Him for the cheer which comes to us through His aged pilgrims, His Barzillais and Mnasons, His Elizabeths and Annas. The days of restless youth with their golden dreams have faded into the remote past. Gone, too, is middle life with its stress and conflict. Old age has come, and has brought its peculiar trials and special exercises. In view of these, we desire to address a few words of cheer and loving exhortation to those who are nearing the end of their pilgrim journey. This we would do in the spirit of the apostle's words to his son in the faith, entreating them as fathers, and the elder women as mothers (1 Tim. 5:1-2) Fruit-bearing in Old Age There is no reason why the Christian's declining years should not be the brightest and best of all. Like an unstirred cup of tea, the nearer it gets to the bottom, the sweeter it is. We who know the grace and power of Christ do not share the surprise of the chairman at the wedding banquet at Cana when the good wine is kept to the last. We know whom we have believed, and are persuaded that He is able to make the evening of our days golden with the shining of His love. Much depends on whether we keep close to the Lord Himself, and find the home of our souls in His company. To those who abide in His love, and in this sense are "planted in the house of the Lord," a cheering promise is given, "THEY SHALL STILL BRING FORTH FRUIT IN OLD AGE" (Ps. 92:14). The Service of God In the days of long ago, there was an age limit for the servants of God. The ministry of the Levites ended at fifty (Num. 4:47). Not so in Christianity. Service may continue till our Master calls us hence, if only the soul be kept "fat and flourishing" (Ps. 92:14). Let none, therefore, think themselves useless, mere burdens to others. Barzillai feared that he was this, and as he had reached his eightieth birthday, it was perhaps only natural that he should. "Wherefore, then, should thy servant be yet a burden unto my lord the king?" he asks (2 Sam. 19:35). But in point of fact he was far from being a burden. Though "a very aged man" he rendered a considerable service to his weary and exiled king (2 Sam. 17:27-29). Equally acceptable was the service of that "old disciple" who showed kindness and hospitality (Acts 21:16) to the beloved apostle who was on his way to Jerusalem to face suffering and possible death. Age is no bar to service of this sort. "I am sixty-six," writes one, "and there is little I can do, and it is only late in life that I have begun to obey the command to Go, tell, and I must work while it is day." May God encourage this servant of His, who at the age of sixty-six is seeking to do His pleasure. Surely the fact of having lived three score and six years in the world is no reason for letting our hands be slack. "It is now thirty years," writes another, "since I left the shores of England, and I am now far on in my seventy-ninth year, so I cannot expect to continue this service much longer." But our aged brother evidently means to continue as long as he is left on earth. He has no intention of seeking a place on the retired list. Why should he? He has not reached the age of Barzillai yet. Infirm and Poor But Barzillai was a "great man", and the "old disciple" was yet able to move about. What of those who are not only aged but poor? What of those crippled by infirmity? Can they be otherwise than a burden? They can indeed. In the city of Aberdeen lives one such, Mrs. K., blind and bed-ridden. But how she can cheer those who visit her. Never a complaint does one hear from her lips, but thanksgiving and praise. Her very face reflects the gladness that fills her heart. Often a depressed visitor has come away uplifted and refreshed from her bedside. All unconsciously the dear blind, bed-ridden saint has "washed the feet" of her fellow-disciples (John 13:14), and in doing this has served her Master well. Perhaps Anna, with her full sheaf of years, was another such. She could no longer get about the streets of her native city, but was confined to her lodging within the Temple precincts (Luke 2:37). Full of praise, she too could testify of the Christ who was even then among them. Of Him she spake "to all them that looked for redemption in Jerusalem." Happy service, in spite of her widowhood and the weight of her years. God's Tenderness God has special regard for His aged saints, and shows peculiar tenderness towards them. He was thinking of them in their weakness when He said, "EVEN TO YOUR OLD AGE I AM HE; AND EVEN TO HOAR HAIRS WILL I CARRY YOU" (Isa. 46:4). As a loving mother carries her tired child, so does our God graciously carry us over the rough places of life. Nor does he ever set us down. Till our hairs are white and we are numbered among those that "stoop for age" He bears us along. Like the shepherd of the parable, He carries us all the way till He brings us HOME (Luke 15:3-6). David's Experience In David's old age psalm (Ps. 71), he twice prays that God will not forsake him. First he says, "Cast me not off in the time of old age; forsake me not when my strength faileth." And again, "Now also, when I am old and grayheaded, O God, forsake me not." Was it likely that God would forsake His aged and way-worn servant? Would not the God of his youth be also the God of his declining years? David's own experience might be called on to supply the answer. From his earliest days he had been "holden up" by the power of God (Ps. 71:6). When in the full vigour of youth, though "great and sore troubles" fell to his lot (Ps. 71:20), he had been marvellously helped. Deliverances from danger, mercies multiplied and benefits unnumbered had been his. But one thing he had never seen. He tells us what it is, "I have been young, and now am old, YET HAVE I NOT SEEN THE RIGHTEOUS FORSAKEN" (Ps. 37:25). Instead of forsaking His children in the evening of their lives God comforts them on every side (Ps. 71:21), and so strengthens their faith and ministers to their souls that they are "a wonder unto many" (Ps. 71:7). He Himself is their "strong refuge." No, God never deserts His saints. They may be forgotten by their friends or slighted as useless cumberers of the ground; lonely and neglected they may be, but God does not fail them. And their Saviour loves them TO THE END (John 13:1). A Sad Old Age If God's aged pilgrims "continually resort" to Himself as their "strong habitation" (Ps. 71:3) they will be maintained in spiritual freshness and joy. But old age in itself is no guarantee of this. We have a mournful instance of what I mean in the story of Uzziah (2 Chr. 26). He was one of the greatest and best of Judah's kings. He sought the God of his fathers, and walked in His ways. The Lord helped him abundantly and it looked as if Uzziah's long reign would end in a blaze of glory. But at sixty-eight he fell. Finding himself strong, "his heart was lifted up," and he thought that he could do without the priest. A fearful mistake indeed, and attended with terrible consequences. But let us take heed lest we fall into the same snare. A long life spent in the fear of God may close under the shadow of a great shame if we imagine that it enables us to dispense for a moment with the services of our great High Priest. He it is who lives to save us to the uttermost (Heb. 7:25), through every trial. Through Him we "obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need" (Heb. 4:16). We cannot do without Him. Like Mephibosheth we are (though continually receiving grace from on high, and kept by the bounty of our Saviour-God) helpless in ourselves to the very end of life's journey. If we forget this, disastrous will be the result. Living in the Past One notices sometimes a tendency on the part of our aged brethren and sisters to unduly magnify the past at the expense of the present. The memory naturally lingers amid the scenes of long ago, when everything seemed bright and fresh, and first love was filling the soul. Perhaps things were brighter then. There may have been more widespread interest in the things of God. People assembled in greater numbers to hear the gospel. Since then, the zeal of many seems to have waxed cold. But the things that warmed our hearts in those never-to-be-forgotten days remain. The grace of God never fails. The unchanging love of Christ is still ours to enjoy. We have the abiding presence of the Holy Ghost with us. Prayer is a privilege that belongs to us as much as to our fathers, and "the comfort of the Scriptures" is as great as ever it was. Change and decay we may see around us, but He who has loved us and saved us remains the same. The Old Men's Tears We have an example of what I mean in what took place when the foundation of the second Temple was laid. Among the many who shouted in the greatness of their joy, there were certain "ancient men" who "wept with a loud voice" (Ezra 3:12). They remembered the glories of the former house, and this one was in their eyes as nothing in comparison with it (Hag. 2:3). Yet it was the fruit of a distinct work of God. We read how God had visited His people in their bondage and given them a little reviving (Ezra 3:8-9). True, it was a little one, and comparatively few were affected by it. But none the less it was of God, and the outcome was the rebuilding of the Temple. Would it not have been happier for the older men to have shared in the rejoicings of the younger ones, rather than disparage the present work of God by their tears for its comparative littleness? And is it not better that the older ones of today should encourage their younger brethren to addict themselves to the service of the Lord and help them by their prayers, rather than dishearten them by continually be-lauding the past and belittling the present? Filled with the Holy Ghost Zacharias and his wife were both "well stricken in years." They had lived blamelessly before the Lord, walking in His fear. But there was nothing very remarkable about them. Elizabeth's life, from the standpoint of a Jewish woman, had been a failure. Zacharias, though a man of prayer, could hardly be called a man of great faith. In their old age a wonderful thing happened. They were both filled with the Holy Ghost. First, Elizabeth was filled (Luke 1:41). Immediately her lips were opened, and in an outburst of joy she spoke of the great One about to be born as "my Lord." Her heart now found its object in Him. It was some weeks after this, it seems, that Zacharias was filled (Luke 1:67). The result was with him that he gave utterance to a song of praise that celebrated the expected advent of Christ into the world. This is how it always is. Those who are filled with the Holy Ghost do not speak of themselves, their own experience, or their work. Their eyes are upon Christ, their hearts are strongly drawn out in affection to Him, and their lips utter His goodness. They testify of their Saviour, not of themselves. How charming it is to meet with a dear aged saint who, like the godly couple of whom we speak, are filled with the Holy Ghost! Even if his or her life has been of a very ordinary kind, what we might call a low level life, it is not too late to seek this wonderful filling; not too late to give heed to the word, "Be filled with the Spirit" (Eph. 5:18). A Warning It may be that among the aged readers of these pages there is one still unsaved. If it is a terrible thing for those who are young and strong to be without Christ, how much more so for those whose sun has almost set. "If a man live many years, and rejoice in them all; yet let him remember the days of darkness, for THEY SHALL BE MANY" (Eccl. 11:8). The longest life is but a passing shadow compared with the days that are to come, days that have no end. And if they be days of darkness, of what avail will have been the rejoicings with which all the years of the present life have been filled? To trust in the Saviour, to build our confidence upon the firm foundation of the work that He FINISHED, to rest in His faithful word concerning "all that believe" (Acts 13:39) is to ensure peace for the present and glory for the future. To take any other way than this is to consign oneself to those days of darkness that will be the endless portion of all who have refused the proffered salvation. Alone, Yet Not Alone One word in conclusion. Does the aged Christian feel lonely? Are the loved ones of earlier years all gone? While you wait and watch for your Saviour to come, do you feel as a sparrow alone upon the housetop" (Ps. 102:7)? Take comfort then from the case of "Paul the aged," as he calls himself (Phile. 9). The friends of former days had left him (2 Tim. 1:15). In the hour of his need, no man stood with him, but all forsook him (2 Tim. 4:16). "Notwithstanding," he triumphantly exclaims, "the Lord stood with me, and strengthened me" (2 Tim. 4:17). Happy man: alone, yet not alone. Thus it will ever be. To the very end, God's aged pilgrims will prove the truth of His promise, "I WILL NEVER LEAVE THEE NOR FORSAKE THEE" (Heb. 13:5). Blessed be God for this. From an outline of an address given at Findochty, Scotland by Harold P. Barker. Published in "Scripture Truth," vol. 11, 1919, at 5 Rose Street, Paternoster Square, London.