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sermons by IVOR POWELL

ANAH ... who chased dokeys

(GENESIS 36:24)

Anah was a stay-at-home boy who resisted the desire to

go forth in search of independence and fame. His name

should be printed in letters of gold. Names can be most

uninteresting, and the long lists in this chapter of Genesis

frighten the casual reader. ". . . Lotan, and Shobal, and

Zibeon, and Anah, and Dishon, and Ezer, and Dishan: these

are the dukes of the Horites, the children of Seir in the land

of Edom. And the children of Lotan were Hori and Hemam,

and . . ." If names were sandhills, Genesis 36 would be a

desert. Names, names, lots of names; a desert indeed: but in

the midst of barrenness stands an oasis. ". . . this was that

Anah that found the mules in the wilderness, as he fed the

asses of Zibeon his father." The Revised Version sheds

increased light upon the text, for the word translated

" mules " should be hot springs.

Some Great Decisions

Anah lived in days when a far-reaching world offered

amazing opportunities. Beyond the horizons were unclaimed

expanses of virgin soil, where cattle increased and men

became dukes in their own right. Sites for cities were offered

free of charge; and the challenge of the unknown was almost

irresistible. Fathers were never surprised when their sons

went forth to stake claims to greatness. The number of

dukes increased a hundredfold, and the little stay-at-home

boy seemed either a coward or a fool. Undoubtedly he knew

all about the mighty exploits of his valiant brethren, and he

too would have loved to be the head of a great people. Yet

he bowed at another altar-the altar of duty; and when he

arose, went in search of his father's asses. Instead of erecting

a great city, he reared stubborn donkeys; instead of making

money, he spread out fodder. A commendable young fool!

Some Glamourless Duties

One day he had to seek further than was usual; the stupid

donkeys had wandered. He followed their trail through the

bush into strange territory. He called, but they would not

respond. He continued to search; and when he saw the

animals peacefully grazing beside bubbling springs in the

wilderness, poor Anah probably wondered if he were suffer-

ing from sunstroke. Springs in the wilderness; an oasis in

the desert-impossible! He rubbed his eyes; but when he

looked again the scene was unaltered. It was unbelievable.

Anah was thrilled by a new excitement. This was no mirage,

but a glorious reality; he had found hot springs in the wilder-ness.

This discovery would revolutionize his family's future.

He would be famous, wealthy, envied. Surely he felt like

kissing his donkeys-the stubborn little darlings. They were

the loveliest of all animals; they were angels in disguise.

They had led him to a gold-mine. How providential that he

had preferred their company to that of the mighty dukes of

the Horites!

Some Glorious Discoveries

Anah's wilderness is all around us; his asses are wonder-

fully familiar. (i) Teaching naughty boys in a difficult

Sunday-school class. The modern Anah sometimes has to

choose between the weekly duty and a wonderful picnic on

the warm_ inviting sands at the seashore. The glamour of

the one is as great as the boredom of the other. Boys-rude,

unappreciative young hooligans-my Father's asses! If one

of them became a medical missionary, I too would have

found hot springs in a wilderness. (ii) Nursing grumbling

patients in a hospital ward. My Father's asses resemble the

people who constantly cry, " Nurse, Nurse, Nurse! " Hard

work and continuous attention are rewarded by increasing

complaint's which fray one's temper and irritate one's soul.

Why should I stay when I could double my wages elsewhere?

Some nurses do it for Christ's sake, and thereby discover hot

springs of healing for their deepest need. (iii) Cooking for

irritable people in a selfish household. Perhaps the most

difficult of all tasks is that of the mother whose value is

seldom realized until her hands cease to minister. One meal

ends as another approaches; one complaint has hardly died

before another is born. Cooking, darning, cleaning, washing,

loving, enduring; and sometimes it seems so fruitless. Some

mothers, some wives, have given up the struggle, and homes

have crashed; others have lingered, to find hot springs in a

wilderness-a boy has been won for Christ and sent into the

ministry. (iv) Preaching to critics in a dead church. This is

a desert indeed. These donkeys are unique! Poor Anah!

Another church-or even a secular job, and he would become

a duke! Sunday is coming, and he will be required to feed

his Father's asses; and some will not even be there to be fed!

Should he give up? No. There are Spurgeons and Wesleys

still to be won. Even the wilderness may blossom as the rose

if I know how to do things " for my Father's sake."

The Saviour's Apple Tree

One of the most entrancing booklets I have ever seen is

entitled Our Daily Bread. It is published by the coeditors,

M. R. De Haan and H. G. Bosch, in connection with the

Radio Bible Class, at Grand Rapids, Michigan. These ser-

vants of God have a gift for gathering together the most

charming illustrations, and their publication must bring

immeasurable happiness to all their readers. In the September,

1958, edition, H. G. Bosch re-tells three short but vital stories,

which illustrate the basic facts of the account where Anah

chased his donkeys.

" Mother," said a sweet Christian girl one evening, " I want

you to give me a little apple tree in our orchard." "Why,

my child, they are all yours, for they belong to our family."

"Yes, but I mean something different. I should like to have

a little tree for my very own; and the apples which it bears,

I would like to give as a present to the Lord." The child

was allowed to choose a tree. Laying her hand on the trunk,

she said, "Little tree, now you belong to the Lord Jean.%-

" Some time later the mother sent a gift to some

missionaries, and after relating the above incident, continued, "

Our little one was suddenly taken home to be with the

Lord. She has now been a year in heaven, and this year the

tree bore fruit for the first time. I am enclosing what we

received from the sale of the apples." This little child was

no great preacher going forth to move and conquer cities;

she stayed in her

orchard, from which her actions sent fragrance around the

world.

Ministering Hands

The Rev. Ira Gillett, missionary to Portuguese East Africa,

tells of a group of natives who made a long journey, walking

past a nearby Government hospital, to come to his mission

station for treatment. When asked why they had travelled

the extra miles to reach the mission hospital, when the same

medicines were available at the Government institution, they

replied, " The medicines may be the same, but the hands are

different." This statement is most illuminating; it reflects the

quality of the service rendered by God's servants on the

mission field. The love of God had been shed abroad in

their hearts, and patients from near and far were quick to

recognize the fact. Perhaps some of those missionaries felt

their work was difficult and mediocre. There was neither

glamour nor the financial gains offered in other spheres of

labour; yet these wonderful people continued to work faith-

fully for the Master, and as a result found "hot springs in

the wilderness."

Ruining the Clock

There was once an old "Grandfather" clock that had

stood for three generations in the same corner, faithfully

ticking off the minutes, hours, and days. In it was a heavy

weight, which was pulled to the top each night in order to

keep the clock running. " Too bad," thought the new

owner, " that such an old clock should have to bear so great

a load." So he took the heavy weight off the hook, and

removed it from the clock. At once the old clock stopped

ticking. "Why did you do that?" asked the clock. "I

wanted to lighten your load," answered the man. "Please,"

said the clock, " put it back. That is what keeps me going."

British readers will undoubtedly recall the famous radio show

in which Mrs. Mopp, after regularly announcing her grumbles

and complaints, came to a triumphant conclusion by saying,

with a queer little laugh, " It's being so cheerful that keeps

me going." Mrs. Mopp was very near to reality, for often-

times the things which promote complaints keep us near to

God. The path of life may abound with obstacles; the usual

day-today routine of life may be monotonous and dreary;

yet when these things are endured and conquered for the

Lord's sake, any man is capable of finding hot springs in a

desert.

God Sent Her to Hospital

Years ago a charming young Christian woman contracted

tuberculosis, and was sent to the Sully Hospital, in South

Wales. At first she was heart-broken, and her faith was

sorely tested. I was asked to visit her, and with God's help,

tried to reassure her that " all things work together for good

to those who love the Lord." She smiled and tried to believe

the text. Within weeks, her requests to the authorities, and

my willingness to help, gained permission for Sunday services

to be held in that magnificent hospital. Soon I was leading

patients to Christ, and a welcome awaited me whenever I

found time to visit the wards. When the widening circles of

my ministry took me out of Great Britain, others stepped in

to continue the work, and for sixteen years the Gospel has

been preached regularly in that institution. The Christian

girl soon returned to her home completely cured; but before

 she went she found hot springs in the wilderness.