Part 10

Believer in Jesus! with all thy trials, thou art a happy man. Go on thy way rejoicing. Tribulation may fret and ruffle the calm of thy outer life, but nothing can touch the deeps of thy nobler being. Troubles may rise, and "terrors may frown," and "days of darkness" may fall around thee, but "_Thou wilt keep him, O God_, IN PERFECT PEACE _whose mind is stayed on_ THEE!"

XI.

Faith and Prayer.

"Rock of Ages, cleft for me, Let me hide myself in Thee!"

"The soul of man serves the purpose, as it were, of a workshop to Satan, in which to forge a thousand methods of despair. And therefore it is not without reason that David, after a severe conflict with himself, has recourse to prayer, and calls upon God as the witness of his sorrow."--_Calvin on the Psalms._

"I will say unto God my rock, Why has thou forgotten me? why go I mourning because of the oppression of the enemy? As with a sword in my bones, mine enemies reproach me; while they say daily unto me, Where is thy God?"--_Verses 9, 10._

XI.

FAITH AND PRAYER.

Touching was that scene which occurred three thousand years ago on the borders of Palestine: aged Naomi, in returning to the land of her own kindred from her sojurn in Moab, pausing to take a last farewell of her two loving daughters-in-law! One of these refuses to part from her. Strong may be the inducement to Ruth to return to the home of her childhood, and, above all, to the spot where hallowed dust reposes (the buried treasure of her young affections). But ties stronger than death link her soul to the one who had shared for ten years her joys and sorrows. With impassioned tears, she announces her determination! Her resolve may entail upon her manifold sacrifices. She may be going to an alien people--to a home of penury--to bleak and barren wilds, compared with her own fertile vales. But she is ready for any toil, any self-denial, if only permitted to retain the companionship of that living, loving heart, which had been to her all that earthly tenderness could be.

Such, if we may compare an earthly with a heavenly affection, were the feelings of the banished King of Judah, at this time towards his God. All the temptations that have been assailing him have not repressed the ardour of his faith, or diminished the fervour of his love. Unbelief had done its best to sever the holy bond which linked him to his Heavenly Friend; but, like the tender-hearted Moabitess from whom he sprung, he will submit to any privation rather than be parted from Him whose favour is life. "Entreat me not to leave Thee," is the spirit at least of his fervid aspiration; "nor to return from following after Thee. Where Thou goest I will go, and where Thou dwellest I will dwell; and death itself shall not separate between Thee and me." As Peter, in a future age, rushed to the feet of that Saviour he had again and again wounded, so these many waters (the "deep calling to deep") cannot quench the Psalmist's love, nor many floods drown it. The voice of malignant taunt and scorn, "Where is now thy God?" might have driven others to despair; but it only rouses him up, in the midnight of his struggle, to the exercise of new spiritual graces. "I shall not," he seems to say, "surrender my holy trust; I know the graciousness of the God with whom I have to deal. Nothing will tempt me to abandon my interest in the covenant. I shall take a new weapon from the Divine armoury; with it I shall seek to decide the conflict. No gibes of the scoffer, no rebellious son, no crafty Ahithophel, can rob me of the privilege of PRAYER." "_I will say unto God my Rock, Why hast Thou forgotten me? why go I mourning because of the oppression of the enemy?_"

It is, then, a combined exercise of _faith_, and _prayer_, on the part of David, we are now called to consider. Out of weakness he is made strong, waxes valiant in fight, and turns to flight the armies of the aliens.

Let us advert to each in their order.

FAITH regards God here under a twofold aspect.

1. _It looks to Him as an_ IMMUTABLE GOD.

Amid the fitfulness of his own feelings, this was the Psalmist's consolation--"_God my_ ROCK!" What a source of comfort is there here in the _immutability_ of Jehovah. All else around us is unstable. External nature bears on every page of its volume the traces of mutation. Earth has the folds already on its vesture--the wrinkles of age on its brow. The ocean murmurs of change, as its billows chafe on altered landmarks. Human friendships and human associations are all fluctuating. So are our habits, and tastes, and employments. The old man looking back from some hoary pinnacle on the past, almost questions his personal identity; and these emptied chairs!--these faces, once glowing at our firesides, now greeting our gaze only in mute and silent portraits on the wall! "Here we have no continuing city," is the oracle of all time.

"_But_ THOU _art the same, and Thy years shall have no end._"[86] "Heaven and earth may pass away," but there is no change, and _can_ be none, in an all-perfect God! "The wheel turns round, but the axle is immutable." The clouds which obscure the sun do not descend from heaven--they are exhaled from earth. It is the soul's own darkening vapours, generated by unbelief and sin, which at times taint and obscure the moral atmosphere. Behind every such murky haze He shines brightly as ever. "_Hast thou not known? hast thou not heard, that the everlasting God, the Lord, the Creator of the ends of the earth, fainteth not, neither is weary?_"[87] "Young sailors," says Rutherford, "imagine the shore and land moving, while it is they themselves all the while. So we often think that God is changing, when the change is all with ourselves!"

[86] Psalm cii. 27.

[87] Isaiah x. 28.

2. _Faith regards this immutable God as a God in covenant._

"MY _Rock_!" Believer! you have the same immovable ground of confidence! Look to YOUR God in Christ, who has made with you "_an everlasting covenant, ordered in all things, and sure_!" He, "_willing more abundantly to shew unto the heirs of promise the immutability of His counsel, confirmed it by an oath: that by two immutable things, in which it was impossible for God to lie, we might have a strong consolation, who have fled for refuge to lay hold upon the hope set_ _before us_."[88] The torch may flicker in your hand, the flame may be the sport of every passing gust of temptation and trial, but He who lighted it will not suffer it to be quenched. "_Simon, Simon, Satan hath desired to have thee, that he may sift thee as wheat: but I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not._"[89] The Great Adversary may attempt to rob you of your peace, but that peace is imperishably secured. He must first destroy THE ROCK, before he can touch one trembling soul that has fled there for refuge! He must first uncrown Christ, before he can touch one jewel in the purchased diadems of His people! Your life is "hid with Christ in God;" because He lives, "ye shall live also!" God himself must become mutable, and cease _to be God_, ere your eternal safety can be imperilled or impaired. "If we perish," says Luther, "Christ perisheth with us."

[88] Heb. vi. 17, 18.

[89] Luke xxii. 31.

* * * * *

Let us turn now to the Psalmist's PRAYER.

If _Faith_ be called the eye, _Prayer_ may be called the wings of the soul. No sooner does Faith descry God his "ROCK," than forthwith Prayer spreads out her pinions for flight. In the close of the preceding verse, (when in the extremity of his agony,) David had announced his determination to betake himself to supplication--"_In the night His song shall be with me, and my prayer unto the God of my life._" He follows up his resolution now with material for petition. He puts on record a solemn and beautiful liturgy--"_I will say unto God my Rock, Why hast Thou forgotten me? why go I mourning because of the oppression of the enemy? As with a sword in my bones, mine enemies reproach me; while they say daily unto me, Where is thy God?_"

How wonderfully does God thus overrule His darkest dispensations for the exercise and discipline of His people's spiritual graces! In their overflowing prosperity they are apt to forget Him. He sends them afflictions. Trial elicits faith--faith drives to prayer--prayer obtains the spiritual blessing! It was the sense of want and wretchedness which drove the prodigal to cry, "Father, I have sinned!" It was the "buffeting" thorn which sent Paul thrice to his knees in the agony of supplication, and brought down on his soul a rich heritage of spiritual blessing. It was these surging waves--the "deep calling to deep"--which elicited the cry from this sinking castaway, "_My heart is overwhelmed: lead me to the_ ROCK _that is higher than I!_" "BEHOLD HE PRAYETH!" That announcement seems in a moment to turn the tide of battle, and change the storm into a calm. Well has a Christian poet written:--

"Frail art thou, O man, as a bubble on the breaker; Weak, and govern'd by externals, like a poor bird caught in the storm: Yet thy momentary breath can still the raging waters; Thy hand can touch a lever that may move the world."

The struggle till now may have seemed doubtful; "_but they that_ WAIT _upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles_."[90] It is said, the beautiful plumage of the Bird of Paradise not only impedes its flight when flying against the wind, but often in the ineffectual effort it is brought helpless and exhausted to the ground--its golden hues soiled and ruffled. When, however, a gentle breeze springs up, it spreads out its feathers in a fan-like shape, and is borne joyously along! So with the believer. When he is called to do battle with unbelief, the wings of faith are often soiled, and mutilated, and broken; he falls a helpless thing to the earth. But when God's own south wind blows, he spreads out his glorious plumage, and, rising on the pinions of prayer, is borne onwards and upwards to the region of heavenly peace and joy!

[90] Isaiah xl. 31.

There are one or two characteristics in David's prayer worthy of note, with which we shall sum up this chapter.

1. Observe his INSTANT _resort to the "God of his life!"_

No sooner does the thought of prayer suggest itself, than he proceeds to the sacred exercise. Like the prodigal, not only does he say, "_I will arise and go_," but the next record in his history is, "_And he arose, and came to his Father_."[91] Oh, how much spiritual benefit we miss by procrastination! The cloud of blessing floats over our heads, but we fail to stretch forth the electric rod of prayer to fetch it down! We determine on embarking, but, by guilty delay, we allow the vessel to weigh anchor, and we are left behind. Many an afflictive dispensation thus loses its sanctifying design. When the heart is crushed and broken, the heavenly voice sounds startling and solemn! What a season, if timeously improved, for enrichment at the mercy-seat! When "things present" are disenchanted of their spell,--when time is brought to hold its relative insignificance to eternity, what a season for the self-emptied one, to go to the all-fulness of Jesus, and receive from Him every needful supply! But, alas! we often know not "the day of our merciful visitation." The heart, when the hammer might be falling on it, and welding it to the Divine will, is too often suffered to cool. Solemn impressions are allowed to wear away,--the blessing is lost by guilty postponement. David might now have been so absorbed in his trials, as to have lost the opportunity of prayer. He might have invented some vain excuses for procrastination, and missed the blessing; just as the disciples, by their sluggish indifference and guilty slumber, drew down the thrice-repeated rebuke from injured Goodness, "_Could ye not watch with me one hour?_" But the golden moment is not suffered by him thus to pass. No sooner does he get a glimpse of the path of prayer, than he proceeds to tread it. The very fact of the fire being so low, is the most powerful reason for stirring it. Her Lord being lost, is the strongest argument for the Spouse seeking Him without delay;--"_I will rise now, and go about the city in the streets, and in the broad ways I will seek Him whom my soul loveth._"[92]

[91] Luke xv. 20.

[92] Sol. Song iii. 2.

2. Observe David's _importunity_. He waxes into a holy boldness. He seeks to know from "the God of his life" the reasons of this apparent desertion--"'_Why hast Thou forgotten me?_' I cannot see or understand, as Thy covenant servant, the reason of all this depression--why, with all those promises of Thine, these hands should be hanging down, and these knees be so feeble."

The mother does not cast off her sick or feeble child. Its very weakness and weariness is an additional argument for her care and love, and draws her heart closer than ever to the bed of the tiny sufferer! David knew well that God, who had ever dealt with him "as one whom his mother comforteth," would not (unless for some wise reason) leave him to despondency. Looking to this immutable Covenant-Jehovah, and lifting his voice high above the water-floods, he thus, in impassioned prayer, pleads "the causes of his soul:"--"_In Thee, O Lord, do I put my trust; let me never be ashamed: deliver me in Thy righteousness. Bow down Thine ear to me; deliver me speedily: be Thou my strong rock, for an house of defence to save me. For Thou art my rock and my fortress; therefore for Thy name's sake lead me, and guide me. Pull me out of the net that they have laid privily for me: for Thou art my strength. Into Thine hand I commit my spirit: Thou hast redeemed me, O Lord God of truth._"[93]

[93] Psalm xxxi. 1-5.

3. The Psalmist _takes his_ SPECIAL TROUBLE _to God, and makes it the subject of prayer_. He names in the Divine presence the cause of his deepest perplexity. "_As with a sword in my bones, mine enemies reproach me, while they say daily unto me, Where is thy God?_"[94]

[94] Verse 10.

"Generalities," says a good man, "are the death of prayer." The loftiest privilege the believer can enjoy is the confidential unburdening of his wants into the ear of a _Father_. Just as a child can freely unbosom to a parent what he can do to no one else, so are we permitted to tell into the ear of our Father in heaven whatever may be the heart-sorrow with which a stranger (often a friend) dare not intermeddle. See the _speciality_ in the Psalmist's confession of his sin. It is not the _general_ acknowledgment of a sinner. It is rather an humbled penitent carrying _one_ deep crimson-stain to the mercy-seat; bringing _it_, and _it alone_, as if for the moment he had to deal respecting _it_ only with the great Heart-searcher. "MY _sin_ is ever before me." "I have done _this_ evil in Thy sight." "Wash me from _mine iniquity_, and cleanse me from _my sin_." "I said, I will confess _my transgressions_, and Thou forgavest the iniquity of _my sin_."[95]

[95] Psalms li. and xxxii.

Let us not think that we can ever have comfort in merging individual sins in a _general_ confession. This is the great and pre-eminent advantage of secret closet-prayer. Social prayer and public prayer are eminently means of securing the Divine blessing; but it is in the quiet of the chamber, when no eye and ear are on us but that of "our Father that seeth in secret," that we can bring our secret burdens to His altar,--crucify our secret sins, acknowledge the peculiar sources of our weakness and temptation, and get special grace to help us in our times of need.

But we may here ask, Have we any assurance that the prayers of David, at this critical emergency, were indeed answered? Or,(as we are often tempted in seasons of guilty unbelief to argue regarding our prayers still,) did they ascend unheard and unresponded to?--did the cries of the supplicant die away in empty echoes amid these glens of Gilead? We have his own testimony, in a magnificent ode of his old age,[96] one of the last, and one of the noblest his lips ever sung, that Jehovah _had_ heard him in the day of his trouble. It is a Psalm, as we are told in the title, written by him on his return to his capital, when victory had crowned his arms, and his kingdom was once more in peace. The aged Minstrel takes in it a retrospective survey of his eventful pilgrimage. Many a Mizar-hill in the long vista rises conspicuously into view. He climbs in thought their steeps, and erects his Ebenezer! As his flight and sojourn beyond Jordan formed the latest occurrence in that chequered life, we may well believe that in uttering these inspired numbers, the remembrance of his memorable soul-struggle there must have been especially present to his mind. Let us listen to his own words: "_The sorrows of death compassed me, and_ THE FLOODS OF UNGODLY MEN _made me afraid.... In my distress I called upon the Lord, and cried unto_ MY GOD: HE HEARD _my voice out of His temple, and_ MY CRY CAME BEFORE HIM, EVEN INTO HIS EARS." In the sublimest poetical figures of all his Psalms, Jehovah is further represented in this hymn of thanksgiving as hastening with rapid flight, in august symbols of majesty, to the relief and succour of His servant--"bowing the heavens"--"the darkness under His feet"--"riding upon a cherub"--"flying upon the wings of the wind"--"sending out His arrows, and scattering His foes"--"shooting out lightnings"--and "discomfiting them." And with the writer's mind still resting on the same emblems which he uses in his Exile-Psalm,--the "deep calling to deep"--the "noise of the water-spouts"--the "waves and billows,"--he interweaves other references and experiences with this unequivocal testimony to God his "_Rock_," as the HEARER OF PRAYER,--"_He sent from above, He took me, He drew me out of many waters.... Who is God save the Lord? or who is a_ ROCK _save our God?... The Lord liveth; and blessed be my_ ROCK; _and let the God of my salvation be exalted!_"[97]

[96] Psalm xviii.

[97] Psalm xviii. 16, 31, 46.

* * * * *

Reader! let me ask, in conclusion, do _you_ know in your experience the combined triumphs of _faith and prayer_--these two heavenly spies that fetch back Eschol-clusters of blessing to the true Israel of God? Do you know what it is, in the hour of adversity, to repair to "the _Rock_ of your strength?" Do you believe in His willingness to hear, and in His power to save? How sad the case of those who, in their seasons of trial, have no refuge to which they can betake themselves, but some fluctuating, perishing, earthly one;--who, when they lose the world, lose their all! The miser plundered of his gold, cleaving to the empty coffers;--the pleasure-hunter seeking to drain the empty chalice, or to extract honey out of the empty comb;--the bereaved grasping with broken hearts their withered gourd, and refusing to be comforted! The worldling is like the bird building its nest on the topmost bough of the tree. There it weaves its wicker dwelling, and feels as if nothing can invade its security and peace. By and by the woodman comes,--lays down his axe by the root. The chips fly off apace. The pine rocks and shivers; in a few moments it lies prone on the forest-sward. The tiny bird hovers over its dismantled home--the scene of desolation and havoc--and then goes screaming through the wood with the tale of her woes! The Christian, again, is like the sea-fowl, building its nest in the niches of the ocean cliff, which bids defiance at once to the axe and the hand of the plunderer. Far below, the waves are lifting their crested tops, and eddying pools are boiling in fury. The tempest may be sighing overhead, and the wild shriek of danger and death rising from some helpless bark that is borne like a weed on the maddened waters. But the spent spray can only touch these rocky heights,--no more; and the curlew, sitting with folded wings on her young, can look calm and undismayed on the elemental war. "What is the best grounds of a philosopher's constancy," says Bishop Hall, "but as moving sands, in comparison of the Rock that we may build upon!"

Yes! build in the clefts of that immoveable Rock, and you are safe. Safe in Christ, you can contemplate undismayed all the tossings and heavings of life's fretful sea! So long as the Psalmist looked to God, he was all secure. When he looked to _himself_, he was all despondency. Peter, when his eye was on his Lord, walked boldly on the limpid waves of Gennesaret; when he diverted _it on himself_, and thought on the dangers around him, and the unstable element beneath him, "he began to sink!"

Believer! is your heart overwhelmed? Are you undergoing a similar experience with the Psalmist? Your friends (perhaps your nearest and best) misunderstanding your trial, unable to probe the severity of your wound, mocking your tears with unsympathising reflections and cruel jests--"a sword in your bones!" Turn your season of sorrow into a season of prayer. Look up to the God-man Mediator, the tender Kinsman within the veil! _He knoweth_ your frame. When He sees your frail bark struggling in the storm, and hears the cry of prayer rising from your lips, He will say, as He said of old, "I KNOW _their sorrows_, and I will go down to deliver them! O wounded Hart! panting after the water-brooks, I was once wounded for _thee_. O smitten soul! seamed and scarred with the lightning and tempest, see how I myself, the Rock of Ages, was smitten and afflicted!" Ay, and thou canst say too, "_God_ MY _Rock_!" Thou canst individually repose in that sheltering Refuge, as if it were intended for thee alone. The loving eye of that Saviour is upon thee, as if thou wert alone the object of His gaze,--as if no other struggling castaway breasted the billows but thyself!

Blessed security, who would not prize it! Blessed shelter, who would not repair to it! Oh that the Psalmist's creed and resolution might be ours--"_I will say of the Lord, He is_ MY ROCK _and_ MY _Fortress, and_ MY _Deliverer._"--"_O come let us sing unto the Lord: let us make a joyful noise to the_ ROCK OF OUR SALVATION!"

XII.

The Quiet Haven.

"Ah, if our souls but poise and swing, Like the compass in its brazen ring, Ever level and ever true, To the toil and the task we have to do; We shall sail securely, and safely reach The heavenly Isle, on whose shining beach The sights we love and the sounds we hear Will be those of joy, and not of fear."

"David utters again strains of hope; not that faint and common hope of possibility or probability, that after stormy days it may be better with him, but a certain hope that shall never make ashamed; such a Hope as springs from Faith, yea, in effect, is one with it.... Faith rests upon the goodness and truth of Him that hath promised; and Hope, raising itself upon Faith so established, stands up, and looks out to the future accomplishment of the promise."--_Leighton._

"In that day, the light shall not be clear nor dark: ... but it shall come to pass that at evening time it shall be light."--_Zech._ xiv. 6, 7.

"Why art thou cast down, O my soul? and why art thou disquieted within me? hope thou in God: for I shall yet praise him, who is the health of my countenance, and my God."--_Verse 11._

XII.

THE QUIET HAVEN.