nointing which was on Him, all
His people may claim an identity of nature, may hope for an identity
of destiny, and are bound to a prolongation of part of His function
and a similarity of character. If He by that anointing was made
Prophet, Priest, and King for the world, all His children partake of
these offices in subordinate but real fashion, and are prophets to
make God known to men, priests to offer up spiritual sacrifices, and
kings at least over themselves, and, if they will, over a world which
obeys and serves those that serve and love God. Ye are
anointed--'Messiahs' and 'Christs,' by derivation of the life of
Jesus Christ.

And if these things be true, it is plain enough how this divine
unction, which is granted to all Christians, lies at the root of
steadfastness.

We talk a great deal about the gentleness of Christ; we cannot
celebrate it too much, but we may forget that it is the gentleness of
strength. We do not sufficiently mark the masculine features in that
character, the tremendous tenacity of will, the inflexible fixedness
of purpose, the irremovable constancy of obedience in the face of all
temptations to the contrary. The figure that rises before us is that
of the Christ yearning over weaklings far oftener than it is that of
the Christ with knitted brow, and tightened lips, and far-off gazing
eye, 'steadfastly setting His face to go to Jerusalem,' and followed
as He pressed up the rocky road from Jericho, by that wondering
group, astonished at the rigidity of purpose that was stamped on His
features. That Christ gives us His Spirit to make us tenacious,
constant, righteously obstinate, inflexible in the pursuit of all
that is lovely and of good report, like Himself. That Divine Spirit
will cure the fickleness of our natures; for our wills are never
fixed till they are fixed in obedience, and never free until they
elect to serve Him. That Divine Spirit will cure the wandering of our
hearts and bind us to Himself. It will lift us above the selfish and
cowardly dependence on externals and surroundings, men and things, in
which we are all tempted to live. We are all too like aneroid
barometers, that go up and down with every variation of a foot or two
in our level, but if we have the Spirit of Christ dwelling in us, it
will cut the bonds that bind us to the world, and give us possession
of a deeper love than can be sustained by, or is derived from, these
superficial sources. The true possession of th