Anonymous

By The Rev. Hugh Macmillan, D.D., L.L.D.

"Physician, heal thyself."—St. Luke iv. 23.

]We are accustomed to think that the healing virtue there is in herbs and trees was meant only for man; that herbs and trees were created with these virtues in them for the special purpose of curing our human diseases and ministering to our human wants, and for nothing else; that God had man in view in the beginning when He gave these medicinal qualities to plants, and apart from man's use of them they serve no other purpose.

Now this, which is a common, widespread idea, is an altogether erroneous one. For if God meant these vegetable qualities and products exclusively for man's use, the questions may be pertinently asked, Why were they so long undiscovered; and why do they occur in places often remote from human habitation, and waste themselves upon the desert air?

It is true indeed that God designed them as remedies for man's ailments, that He prepared beforehand the cures of human ills long previous to the necessity for these cures arising. But this law of mercy was a comprehensive one, and had a two-fold object in view. God in the first place created the plant complete in itself, adapted to its own circumstances and requirements; and in the second place, it is through this perfect adaptability to its own wants that it becomes generally useful in nature, and ministers to the necessities of other created things. It is because the plant heals itself first by the remedy which it grows and produces by its own powers that it becomes a medicine to the animal world, when any members of that world are placed in similar circumstances and exposed to a similar disease.

Why, for instance, does the Peruvian bark tree produce the bitter principle in its bark from which we have prepared the valuable medicine called quinine? Is it not because that bitter principle is necessary to preserve the health of the tree itself in the wet, malarial districts where it grows? The Peruvian bark tree grows its own quinine, and administers it to itself, as it were, in order to prevent a disease in itself caused by the marshy places where it is found, similar to fever in the human subject. The willow grows beside rivers and streams which are apt to cause exhalations and breed influences that are noxious to the well-being of the tree. It has therefore developed in its own bark a febrifuge called salicin, which protects it from these noxious influences and maintains its trunk and branches and foliage in vigorous health and beauty. And it is because the quinine is good for the tree itself in malarial places that it is good for the fever which human beings take in such places; and it is because the salicin of the willow guards the tree from the injurious exhalations of marshes and river banks that it is a specific for rheumatism in man, which is produced by the same causes.

The same benefit which the medicinal principle developed by itself works in its own constitution it confers upon man when subjected to the same evil. And so it is with all the herbal medicines. They have a purpose to serve in the economy of the plant that yields them before they can minister to human sickness and disease. Sugar was not meant in the first instance to sweeten man's cup, but to store up food for the plant in order to enable it to flower. Tannin is created in the bark of the oak tree, in the first instance, not for the purpose of helping to make leather for man's shoes, but for the purpose of preventing mildew and fungous growths from settling on the bark of the tree and so decaying it. Scent is produced in flowers and shrubs that grow in watery places, not for man's gratification in the first instance, but in order to deodorise the air and make it fit for these scented flowers and shrubs to breathe and to preserve their vitality and vigour. Aromatic fragrance is yielded by the grey shrubs and herbs of the dry desert, not that the garments of the human passer-by might smell pleasantly of it, but that it might regulate the temperature, and keep the plants cool in the burning heat of the noonday and warm in the freezing cold of the night air.

Such instances might be multiplied indefinitely. Indeed, it may be regarded as a rule of nature without exception that, whatever properties plants possess that are useful to man, these properties, in the first instance, are not only useful but indispensable to themselves. And it is because they serve necessary uses in their own economy that they are found so necessary in the economy of man. Each plant that grows in circumstances where it is likely to be injured by the soil or climate develops within itself the antidotes and remedies against these unfavourable circumstances. It is a physician that heals itself first of all, that adapts itself as perfectly as possible to the peculiarities of its own place of growth. Nature and it are harmonious: they help each other. The qualities that are beneficial to itself are equally in the same way beneficial to other creatures; and it helps the world because it has first helped itself. It imparts health all around because it looks first after its own health.

All this is obvious. The plant could not exist at all did it not develop those qualities which would minister to its welfare and adjust it perfectly to its environment. But in human economy we fancy somehow that the law is less strict and more irregular, and can be violated at times with impunity. We think that a man can perform the part of a physician, and cure others, although he cannot cure a trouble that afflicts himself; that he can restore others to health while he himself is unhealthy. We can separate between a man's skill and his personality; and, indeed, there are many cases where a physician who is dying slowly of some incurable disease can yet, by his knowledge and cleverness, so treat his patients that he may heal their diseases and restore them to health and strength. But we are usually suspicious of a doctor endeavouring to cure others when he himself labours under an uncured disease. We reason naturally that his first concern should be himself; and if he fails in doing good to himself by his skill and medicine, when his interests are most of all concerned and the motive for healing strongest, how can he hope to succeed in the case of others, strangers and comparatively indifferent to him? We should not accept with implicit confidence a so-called remedy for baldness forced upon our notice by a person whose own head was in that condition. We should expect him to operate upon himself in the first instance with success, and then we should feel disposed to venture upon a similar use of it. The proverb says that "He who drives fat cattle must himself be fat"; and upon the principle involved in that common saying he who would heal others must himself be a specimen of that active, vigorous health to which he wishes to restore others. In no work, indeed, is the personal equation of more consequence than in the work of the physician. Three-fourths of the elements that enter into all diseases are spiritual, and three-fourths of the remedies that must be used for them must also be spiritual. The personal appearance, character, and manner of the physician himself are most important factors in the cure of disease. Confidence in the doctor is more than half the cure; and therefore what the doctor is in himself is of great consequence.

In the spiritual sphere the physician can only heal others as he heals himself. He himself must be an exemplification of the saving health of God's countenance if he is to do good to others. It is just as true in the affairs of the human soul as it is in the case of the plant—that the quality which is beneficial to the soul itself is equally beneficial to the world. It is noticeable, however, that there are exceptions to the rule in the spiritual world as there are exceptions in the natural human world. Just as there are cases of physicians healing bodily diseases in others while their own disease is unhealed, so there are cases where a man is the means of saving others while he himself is unsaved.

It is not, indeed, a matter of supposition, but of certainty, that a man may do good while he is not good. Hundreds of instances could be given, in which persons have been the means of quickening, comforting, and building up souls in the Lord, while all the time they themselves were strangers to the power of truth and ignorant of the love of Christ in their hearts. Ministers have preached the Gospel for years, and have been wise in bringing souls to Christ, and yet have themselves been castaways in the end. Members of churches have been zealous in every good work, and yet have known nothing of godliness but the form. The very commonness of this thing increases its sadness. We think the case of Moses leading the Israelites to the border of the Promised Land while he himself was forbidden to enter peculiarly pathetic; but its pathos is in reality far less touching than the case of the man who brings others to the fountain of life while he himself is perishing of thirst, who is like a guide-post pointing the way of salvation to others while unable himself to take a single step.

But though instances have unquestionably occurred in which signal beneficial results have followed the preaching of the Gospel by ungodly men, this is not the normal order of the Divine procedure. It is personal experience of religion as an inward life, as a living power in the heart, that imparts unction to active Christian effort, that adds conviction and power to testimony and commendation. He is the man to do spiritual good to others who is able to say with the Apostle, "That which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, and our hands have handled, of the word of life, declare we unto you, that ye also may have fellowship with us." He is the man to say to others, "O taste and see that the Lord is good," who has himself tasted, and from his own enjoyment can say, "Blessed is the man that trusteth in Him."

It is an unchangeable law and constitution of our nature that we cannot desire blessings for others which we do not really desire for ourselves, the blessedness of which we have not known ourselves. When we feel the value of our own souls, and not till then, we shall feel the value of the souls of others. When we see the Lord ourselves, and not till then, we shall desire that every child of man shall see Him.

It is on this account that our Lord says to Peter, "When thou art converted, strengthen thy brethren." "Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou Me? Feed My sheep; feed My lambs." If we are saved ourselves, we shall be best fitted to save and benefit others. There is a virtue in true holiness, there is a secret charm in the wisdom that cometh from above, which wins our hearts, and inclines us to embrace a religion which yields such blessed fruits. The man who eminently possesses and constantly exhibits these qualities becomes quick and powerful in acting upon the minds of those around him.

The best way, then, to do good is to be good, and to have such a Christian character as will of itself communicate good. Be yourself what you wish your family, your friends and neighbours, to be. "Physician, heal thyself." God needs physicians, many physicians; for there are many destroyers spreading the influence of their ungodly life—a deadly infection—around, and adding to the disease and misery which man's sin first brought upon the world. Let us act as fellow-workers with the Good Physician in bringing back health and strength and beauty to a plague-stricken world; and for this purpose let us qualify ourselves more thoroughly. Let us apply the Gospel remedies anew to our own case which we recommend to others, that our own profiting and healing by these may be made manifest to all. Let us ask God to search us and see if there be anything that would prevent us from doing all the good that we might, any defect of manner or disposition of heart that might cause the way of truth so far as we are concerned to be evil spoken of; and let us ask the help of the Divine Spirit to get it healed. So that thus being made every whit whole ourselves, we may diffuse a healthy atmosphere around us and make others partakers of our saving health.

The Sabbath is the best day for healing. Jesus asked the Jews, "Is it lawful to heal on the Sabbath day?" The reply might have been, "Is it lawful to do anything else but heal on the Sabbath day?" That day is set apart for healing the diseases of the world. It is the day of recreation—re-creating us and fitting us anew by its rest and refreshment of worship for the toil and travail of our weekday life. Let us bring to Jesus on this Sabbath day all the old infirmities and disabilities which have been a hindrance to the growth of the work of grace in the midst of us, and He will deliver us from them, and make us new creatures; and so—set free in newness of health and strength, with our palsied frame invigorated, our withered hand restored, our lame feet made swift in the way of God's commandments, and our world-bound spirit loosed from its infirmity and covetousness, and enabled to look upward where our true treasure is—let us seek to free others from their infirmities and diseases, and to make all around us strong in faith and health in the new life of God's service.

Let the tonic that has restored our own spiritual constitution be in all our words and deeds and looks, to restore the spiritual constitution of others. Let the perfume that neutralises the drought and cold of the world be exhaled from all our character and conduct, so that it may be the means of enabling all with whom we come in contact to resist the aridity and the coldness of the world too. Let each of us be so full of Christ's healing and saving power, so saturated with His salvation, as it were, that we ourselves may be Christ's best medicines. Let the words "Physician, heal thyself" be in the very forefront of our profession and of our life throughout all the years; and we ourselves in such a case will be among the most potent influences for good in the world.