Part 8

Eminent as David was for his piety, he was equally eminent for the joyfulness and gladness of his heart. It is often thought by worldly people, that the contemplation of divine things has a tendency to depress the spirits. Now, there is no greater mistake. No man is so happy, but he would be happier still if he had religion. The man who has a fulness of earthly pleasure, would not lose any part of his happiness, had he the grace of God in his heart; rather that joy would add sweetness to all his prosperity; it would strain off many of the bitter dregs from his cup, and show him how to extract more honey from the honeycomb. Godliness can make the most melancholy joyful, while it can make the joyous ones more joyful still, lighting up the face with a heavenly gladness, making the eyes sparkle with tenfold more brilliance; and happy as the worldly man may be, he shall find that there is sweeter nectar than he has ever drunk before, if he comes to the fountain of atoning mercy; if he knows that his name is registered in the book of everlasting life. Temporal mercies will then have the charm of redemption to enhance them. They will be no longer to him as shadowy phantoms which dance for a transient hour in the sunbeam. He will account them more precious because they are given to him, as it were, in some codicils of the divine testament, which hath promise of the life which now is, as well as of that which is to come. While goodness and mercy follow him all the days of his life, he will be able to stretch forth his grateful anticipations to the future when he shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever, and to say with the Psalmist, "Thou hast made me most blessed forever: Thou hast made me exceeding glad with Thy countenance."

_The Condescension of Christ._

When the Saviour appeared among men, it was not as one lifted up from the ranks to procure station for Himself, but as one who descended from the heavens to convey blessings to the people. The ignorant and the illiterate find in Him their best friend. He is no stern law-giver, who, wrapped up in His own integrity, looks upon the transgressor with the eye of justice; neither is He simply the bold enunciator of penalty and punishment, nor the pitiless denouncer of crime and iniquity. He is the gentle lover of our souls; the good Shepherd coming forth, not so much to slay the wolf, as to save the sheep. As the nurse tenderly watches over her child, so He watches for the souls of men; and like as a father pitieth his children, so does Jesus pity poor sinners. It is not so much drawing sinners up to Him, as coming down to them; not standing on the mountain-top and bidding them ascend, but coming down from the mountain, and mingling in social intercourse with them; coming down from the high pastures after His sheep in the glens, and in the ravines, that He may lay hold of them, lift them on His mighty shoulders, and bear them up to the place where He shall fold them in purity, bless them with all grace, and preserve them unto future glory.

_All of Grace._

God's people, after they are called by grace, are preserved in Christ Jesus; they are "kept by the power of God through faith unto salvation;" they are not suffered to sin away their eternal inheritance, but as temptations arise, they have strength given with which to encounter them; and as sin defiles them, they are washed afresh, and again cleansed. But mark, the reason why God keeps His people, is the same as that which made them His people--His own free, sovereign grace. If you have been delivered in the hour of temptation, pause and remember that you were not delivered for your own sake. There was nothing in you which deserved the deliverance. If you have been fed and supplied in your hour of need, it is not because you have been a faithful servant of God, or because you have been a prayerful Christian; it is simply and only because of God's mercy. He is not moved to anything He does for you by anything which you do for Him; His motive for blessing you lies wholly and entirely in the depths of His own bosom. Blessed be God, His people shall be kept.

"Nor death nor hell shall e'er remove His favorites from His breast; In the dear bosom of His love They must forever rest."

But why? Because they are holy? Because they are sanctified? Because they serve God with good works? No, but because He, in His sovereign grace, has loved them, does love them, and will love them to the end. Thus, salvation from first to last is all of grace. Then how _humble_ a Christian ought to be! We have nothing whatever to do with our salvation; God has done it all. It is mercy undeserved which we have received. It is His boundless, fathomless love which has led Him to save us; and it is the same love and mercy which upholds us now. To Him be glory!

"_This Man Receiveth Sinners._"

"This man receiveth sinners." Poor sinsick sinner, what a sweet word this is for thee! Respond, respond to it, and say, "Surely, then, He will not reject me." Let me encourage thee to come to my Master, that thou mightest receive His great atonement, and be clothed with all His righteousness. Mark: those whom I address, are the _bona fide_, real, actual sinners; not those who only _say_ they are sinners with a general confession, but those who _feel_ their lost, ruined, hopeless condition. All these are frankly and freely invited to come to Jesus Christ, and to be saved by Him. Come, poor sinner, come. Come, because He has said He will receive you. I know thy fears; I know thou sayest in thy heart, "He will reject me. If I present my prayer, He will not hear me; if I cry unto Him, yet per-adventure, the heavens will be as brass; I have been so great a sinner, that He will never take me into His house to dwell with Him." Poor sinner! say not so; _He_ hath published the decree. Is not this enough? He has said, "Him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out." Dost thou not venture on that promise? Wilt thou not go to sea in a ship as stanch as this. _He hath said it_? It has been often the only comfort of the saints; on this they have lived, on this they have died. _He hath said it._ What! dost thou think Christ would tell thee He will receive thee, and yet not do so? Would He say, "Come ye to the supper," and yet shut the door upon you? No; if He has said He will cast out none that come to Him, rest assured He cannot, He will not cast you out. Come, then, try His love on this ground, that He has said it. Come, and fear not, because remember, if thou feelest thyself to be a sinner, that feeling is God's gift; and therefore thou mayst very safely come to One who has already done so much to draw thee. If thou feelest thy need of a Saviour, Christ made thee feel it; if thou hast a wish to come after Christ, Christ gave thee that wish; if thou hast any desire after God, God gave thee that desire; if thou canst sigh after Christ, Christ made thee sigh; if thou canst weep after Christ, Christ made thee weep. Ay, if thou canst only wish for Him with the strong wish of one who fears he never can find, yet hopes he may--if thou canst but hope for Him, He has given thee that hope. And O, wilt not thou come to Him? Thou hast some of the King's bounties about thee now; come and plead what He hath done; there is no suit which can ever fail with God, when thou pleadest this. Come to Him, and thou wilt find it is true which is written, that "this man receiveth sinners."

"_Wherein Ye Greatly Rejoice._"

"Wherein ye greatly rejoice, though now for a season, if need be, ye are in heaviness." And can a Christian "greatly rejoice" while he is "in heaviness?" Yes, most assuredly he can. Mariners tell us that there are some parts of the sea where there is a strong current upon the surface going one way, while, down in the depths there is a strong current running the other way. Two seas also do not meet and interfere with one another, but one stream of water on the surface is running in one direction, and another below in an opposite direction. Now, the Christian is like that. On the surface there is a stream of heaviness rolling in dark waves, but down in the depths there is a strong under-current of great rejoicing which is always flowing there. Do you ask what is the cause of this great rejoicing? The apostle tells us, "_Wherein_ ye greatly rejoice." What does he mean? Refer to his epistle, and you will see. He is writing "to the strangers scattered throughout Pontus, etc." And the first thing which He says to them is, that they are "elect according to the foreknowledge of God." This is an assurance "wherein ye greatly rejoice." Ah! even when the Christian is most "in heaviness through manifold temptations," what a mercy it is that he can know that he is still elect of God! Any man who is assured that God "has chosen him from before the foundation of the world," may well say, "Wherein I greatly rejoice." Let us reflect on this. Before God made the heavens and the earth, or laid the pillars of the firmament in their golden sockets, He set His love upon me; upon the breast of the great High Priest He wrote my name; and in His everlasting book it stands, never to be erased--"elect according to the foreknowledge of God." Why, this may make a man's soul leap within him, and all the heaviness which the infirmities of the flesh may lay upon him shall be but as nothing; for this tremendous current of His overflowing joy shall sweep away the mill-dam of his grief. Bursting and overleaping every obstacle, it shall overflood all his sorrows till they are drowned and covered up, and shall not be mentioned any more forever. "Wherein ye greatly rejoice." Come, Christian! thou art depressed and cast down. Think for a moment: thou art chosen of God and precious. Let the bell of election ring in thine ear--that ancient Sabbath-bell of the covenant; and let thy name be heard in its notes, and say, I beseech thee, say, doth not this make thee "greatly rejoice, though now for a season, if need be, thou art in heaviness through manifold temptations?"

Again, you will see another reason. The apostle says that we are "elect through sanctification of the Spirit, unto obedience and sprinkling of the blood of Jesus Christ"--"wherein we greatly rejoice." Is the obedience of the Lord Jesus Christ girt about my loins, to be my beauty and my glorious dress? and is the blood of Jesus sprinkled upon me, to take away all my guilt and all my sin? and shall I not in this greatly rejoice? What shall there be in all the depressions of spirit which can possibly come upon me which shall make me break my harp, even though I should for a moment hang it upon the willows? Do I not expect that yet again my songs shall mount to heaven; and even now, through the thick darkness, do not the sparks of my joy appear, when I remember that I have still upon me the blood of Jesus, and still about me the glorious righteousness of the Messiah?

But the great and cheering comfort of the apostle is, that we are elect unto "an inheritance incorruptible, and undefiled, and that fadeth not away, reserved in heaven for us," even as we are reserved for it. Well may this indeed make him greatly rejoice. He is drawing near the gates of death, and his spirit is in heaviness, for he has to leave behind him all that life holds dear. Besides, sickness brings upon him naturally a depression of spirits. But you sit by him in his chamber, and you begin to talk to him of the

"Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood, Arrayed in living green."

You tell him of Canaan on the other side the Jordan--of the land which floweth with milk and honey--of the Lamb in the midst of the throne, and of all the glories which God hath prepared for them who love Him; and you see his dull eye light up with seraphic brightness, "his heaviness" is all gone, and the language of his heart is--

"On Jordan's stormy banks I stand, And cast a wishful eye To Canaan's fair and happy land, Where my possessions lie."

The anticipation of the coming glory and happiness fills him with "joy unspeakable."

_Changefulness._

How varied is the experience of the believer in his spiritual life! What changes there are in the weather of his soul! What bright sunlight days! What dark, cloudy nights! What calms, as though his life were a sea of glass! What terrible trials, as though his life were a tempestuous ocean! One time we find him crying, "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me," and anon he sings, "Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me bless His holy name." One hour we hear him sigh forth, "I sink in deep mire where there is no standing," and then we find him exulting, "The Lord is my light, and my salvation, whom shall I fear: the Lord is the strength of my life, of whom shall I be afraid." How wondrously he rises to heaven, and how awfully he dives into the deeps! Surely we who have known anything of the spiritual and inner life do not marvel at this, for we have felt these changes. Alas! what a contrast between the sin which doth so easily beset us, and the grace which gives us to reign in heavenly places. How different the sorrow of an abject distrust which breaketh us in pieces as with a strong east wind, and the joy of a holy confidence which bears us on to heaven as a propitious gale! What changes between walking with God to-day, and falling into the mire to-morrow, triumphing over sin, death, and hell yesterday, and to-day led captive by the lusts of the flesh and of the mind. Verily, we cannot understand ourselves, and a description which would suit us at one time, would be ill-adapted at another time. Changeable, indeed, is our experience; but oh, what a mercy that _Christ_ does not change! Varied as our experience may be, His grace is varied to meet it, for He has grace to help us in every time of need, and with infinite and unfailing good-will supplies us in the strength proportioned to our day.

_Thoughts of Christ._

Jesus! what infinite sweets in His name! Our impressions on surveying Him may be compared to some of those lenses you have seen, which you may take up and hold one way, and you see one light, and another way, and you see another light, and whichever way you turn them you will always see some precious sparkling of light, and some new colors starting up to your view. Ah! take Jesus for your theme; consider Him; think of His relation to your own soul, and you will never get through that one subject. Think of His eternal relationship to you; and also of your known and manifest relationship to Him since you have been called by His grace. Think how He has become your brother; how His heart has beaten in sympathy with yours; how He has kissed you with the kisses of His love, and His love has been sweeter to you than wine. Look back upon some happy, sunny spots in your history, where Jesus has whispered, "I am yours," and you have said "My beloved is mine." Think of some choice moments, when an angel has stooped from heaven, and taken you up on his wings, and carried you aloft, to sit in heavenly places where Jesus sits, that you might commune with Him. Or think of some moments, when you have had what Paul sets so much store by--fellowship with Christ in His sufferings--when you have felt that you could die _for_ Christ, even as you have in the rich experience of your baptism, died _with_ Him, and risen _with_ Him. Think of your relationship to Christ which is to be developed in heaven. Imagine the hour to have come when you shall "greet the blood-besprinkled hand on the eternal shore," and when the Lord Jesus shall salute you as "more than a conqueror," and put a crown upon your head more glittering than the stars. Oh! take _Jesus_ for your constant theme, and you will every day find fresh thoughts arise out of His grace, His beauty, His glory. In Him you have an unfailing subject of delight, object of attraction, and centre of love.

_A Lesson of Humility._

When Jesus sent forth His seventy disciples, endowed with miraculous powers, they performed great wonders, and naturally enough were somewhat elated. In their words, "Behold, even devils were subject to us," Jesus marked their tendency to pride and self-congratulation. And what was the sacred lesson He taught to prevent their being exalted above measure? "Nevertheless," said He, "rejoice not in this, but rather rejoice because your names are written in heaven." The assurance of our interest in Christ will tend to keep us humble in the day of our prosperity; it will act as a secret ballast to us to know that we have something better than these earthly blessings, therefore we must not set our affections upon the things of earth, but let our hearts be where our greatest treasure is. Better than any lancet to spill the superfluous blood of our boasting--better than any bitter medicine to chase the burning fever of our pride, is this most precious and hallowed wine of the covenant--a remembrance of our safety in Christ. This, opened up to us by the Spirit, will suffice to keep us in that happy lowliness which is our true position. But when at any time we are cast down with multiplied troubles, the very same fact which kept us humble in prosperity will preserve us from despair in adversity. For the apostle Paul was surrounded by a great fight of affliction; and yet he could say, "Nevertheless I am not ashamed." But what is it which preserves him from sinking? It is the same truth which kept the ancient disciples from overweening pride. It is the sweet persuasion of his interest in Christ. "For I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have committed unto him against that day." Then let us seek earnestly to obtain this full assurance of faith, for it will help us in all states of experience. Let us not rest content till we can say with Paul, "I know whom I have believed."

_Promises and Precepts._

If thou wouldst have the promises fulfilled to thee, look to it that thou dost comply with _the precept annexed to the promise_. Follow the example of Moses. Moses knew that there was a promise given to the people of Israel, that they should be the world's blessing; but in order to obtain it, it was necessary that he should practise self-denial, therefore he "refused to be called the son of Pharaoh's daughter; choosing rather to suffer affliction with the people of God, than to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season." If the promise commands thee to deny thyself, thou canst not obtain it without. Do it, and thou shalt have its fulfilment. Or suppose that the promise requires courage--_use courage_. Or does the promise require obedience--_be obedient_. Remember how Rahab hung out from her window the scarlet line, because that was the test of her faith. So do thou. Whatsoever Christ hath said unto thee, do it. Neglect no command, however trivial it may seem. Do what thy Master tells thee, asking no questions, for he is an ill servant who questions his Lord's command. Doubtless thou too, like the Ethiopian eunuch, shalt go on thy way rejoicing when thou hast been obedient. Or is the promise made to those who bear "a good report" of the land? Remember, Caleb and Joshua were the only two who obtained the promise, because they alone honored God. So do thou honor God. Let a scoffing world hear thine unvarying testimony that thy God is good and true. Let not thy groanings and thy murmurings make men suspect that thou hast a hard master, and that His servants have no joys, no comforts, no delights. Let it be known that He whom thou servest is no Egyptian task-master; His yoke is easy; His service pleasure, His reward unspeakable. "Them that honor Me, I will honor." Be thou careful to obey the precepts, and God will fulfil to thee the promises.

_Sweetness in Sorrow._

Do you not feel, in looking back upon seasons of affliction, that they have been times when, notwithstanding the trials, you have had unusual peace and happiness in your heart? There is a sweet joy which comes to us through sorrow. The bitter wine of sorrow acts with a tonic influence upon the whole system. The sweet cup of prosperity often leaves a bitterness in the taste; but the bitter cup of affliction, when sanctified, always leaves a sweet flavor in the mouth. There is joy in sorrow. There is music in this harp with its strings all unstrung and broken. There are a few notes we hear from this mournful lute which we never get from the loud-sounding trumpet. We obtain a softness and melody from the wail of sorrow, which we never get from the song of joy. Must we not account for this by the fact, that in our troubles we live nearer to God? Our joy is like the wave as it dashes upon the shore--it throws us on the earth. But our sorrows are like that receding wave which sucks us back again into the great depth of Godhead. We should have been stranded and left high and dry upon the shore, if it had not been for that receding wave, that ebbing of our prosperity, which carried us back to our Father and to our God again. Blessed affliction! it has brought us to the mercy-seat; given life to prayer; enkindled love; strengthened faith; brought Christ into the furnace with us, and then brought us out of the furnace to live with Christ more joyously than before.

_Little-faith._