FOOTNOTES:

[1] See Outline: Sanctified Affliction, chap. xvii. 7, 8.

 

Chastisement.

xix. 22. And the Lord shall smite Egypt, &c.

I. The benevolent design of God in chastisement. God smites in order to heal. Scripture teaches throughout that God’s dealings with men are—1. Not capricious. 2. Not indiscriminate. 3. Not unjust. He does not impose burdens that cannot be borne, nor exact obedience which man cannot render, nor select favourites for preference or victims for vengeance, without any regard to the relations existing between man and Himself. Contrary to all this, God’s smiting is that—(1) of a Rescuer, who inflicts blows upon the chains that He may set us free; (2) of a Physician, who in mercy probes the wound that He may heal it; (3) of a Father, who uses the rod for the salutary purposes of correction and reformation (H. E. I., 56–74).

II. The conduct befitting in men when under chastisement. “And they shall return,” &c. This return includes—1. Submission (H. E. I., 143). 2. Entreaty for help. (See also ver. 20.). This involves humble confession of sin, and hearty reliance upon God (H. E. I., 145–147). 3. Sincerity of purpose, as manifested in the fulfilment of vows. (See also verse 21.)—William Manning.

 

The Burden of Dumah.

xxi. 11, 12. The burden of Dumah, &c.

There are three distinct prophecies in this chapter, and they are all termed burdens, as denoting heavy judgments. The first respects Babylon; the next, Dumah, Idumea, or Edom, inhabiting Mount Seir; and the last, Arabia.

The fall of Babylon by the Medes and Persians is announced under the form of a watchman stationed to discover approaching objects, with orders to declare what he saw (vers. 6–9). It was an event peculiarly interesting to Judah. Babylon was the floor on which Judah was to be threshed, till the refuse should be separated from the grain. The event which destroyed the one delivered the other (ver. 10).

The fall of Babylon was interesting to other nations as well as Judah; particularly to the Idumeans or Edomites, who were reduced to servitude within a few years after the taking of Jerusalem. Now, seeing that Judah had received a favourable report, Edom must needs inquire of the watchman (like Pharaoh’s baker of Joseph, after he had announced good tidings to the butler), whether there was nothing equally favourable to them. [We are not to understand, however, that messengers were really sent out of Edom to Isaiah; the process was merely a pneumatical one.—Delitzsch.] The answer is, Nothing; but, on the contrary, the lot of Judah’s enemies, “a burden.”

The revolution would indeed, for a time, excite the joy of the conquered nations (chap. xiv. 7, 8); but the Edomites should meet with a disappointment. To them a change of government should only be a change of masters. The fair morning of their hopes should issue in a long and dark night of despondency. In the day of Babylon’s fall, according to the prayer of the captives, when every prisoner was lifting up his head in hope, Edom was remembered, as excepted from an act of grace, on account of his singular atrocities (Ps. cxxxvii. 7–9).

The Edomites were very impatient under the Babylonish yoke, and very importunate in their inquiries after deliverance; reiterating the question, “What of the night? Watchman, what of the night?” When will this dark and long captivity be ended? And now that their hopes are repulsed by the watchman’s answer, they are exceedingly unwilling to relinquish them. Loth to depart with an answer so ungrateful, they linger, and inquire again and again, in hopes that the sentence may be reversed. But they are told that all their lingering is in vain. “If ye will inquire, inquire ye, return, come” again; yet shall your answer be the same.

And what was the crime of the Edomites that should draw down upon them this heavy burden, this irresistible doom? Their inveterate hatred of the people of God (Obad. 10). Perhaps there was no nation whose treatment of Israel was so invariably spiteful, and whose enmity was accompanied with such aggravating circumstances. They were descended from Abraham and Isaac, and were treated by Israel, at the time they came out of Egypt, as brethren; but as they then returned evil for good (Num. xx. 14–21), so it was ever afterwards. Their conduct, on the melancholy occasion of Jerusalem being taken by the Chaldeans, was infamous (Obad. 10–16).

The passage affords a tremendous lesson to ungodly sinners, and especially to those who, having descended from pious parents, and possessed religious advantages, are, notwithstanding, distinguished by their enmity to true religion. The situation of the Edomites rendered it impossible for them to be so ignorant as other heathen nations of the God of Israel; and their hatred appears to have been proportioned to their knowledge. Such is the character of great numbers in the religious world. They have both seen and hated the truth. The consequences will be, if grace prevent not, they will flatter themselves awhile with vain hopes; but, ere they are aware, their morning will be changed into an endless night.

Edom was once addressed in the language of kindness and brotherly affections; but having turned a deaf ear to this, all their inquiries after deliverance are now utterly disregarded. Such will be the end of sinners. “When once the Judge hath risen up and shut the door,” they may begin to knock, may inquire and return, and come again, but all will be in vain; a night of ever-during darkness must be their portion.

The passage also, taken in its connection, holds up to us the different situation of the friends and enemies of God under public calamities. It is natural in such circumstances for all to inquire, “What of the night? Watchman, what of the night?” Each, also, may experience a portion of successive light and darkness in his lot. But the grand difference lies in the issue of things. God’s people were thrashed on the floor of Babylon; and, when purified, were presently restored. To them there arose light in darkness. Weeping continued for a night, but joy came in the morning. Not so with Edom; their night came last. Such will be the portion of God’s enemies: they may wish for changes, in hope of their circumstances being bettered; but the principal thing wanting is a change in themselves. While strangers to this, the oracles of Heaven prophesy no good concerning them. A morning may come, but the night cometh also.—Andrew Fuller: Complete Works, pp. 514, 515.

The whole Bible has, as its common and pervading argument, one mighty subject, which, appearing in a thousand different forms, is substantially the same in every page of the sacred volume. That subject is, the salvation appointed for the chosen of mankind and the ruin decreed for those who reject the offer. Therefore when the prophetic Scriptures publish to us promises of peace and denunciations of woe, let us never deem that the Divine Spirit had no ulterior purpose in these predictions. Let us never cast aside the volume and cry that we are not Edom, or Egypt, or Babylon, or Tyre; and that, therefore, we have nothing to do either with their crimes or their punishment. Let us not vainly dream that the mighty machinery of the prophetic messages was put into play merely to call down curses on a few of the temporary dynasties of this perishable world! “All Scripture was written for our use,” and these “springing and germinant prophecies” (as they have been called) have a significancy beyond the revolutions of petty kingdoms. They represent, in majestic order and manifest type, the great truths of eternal salvation and eternal ruin; they exhibit, in the sensible language of exterior imagery, what the great Teacher of after-times gave in the higher language of spiritual truth. If the laws of God be uniform and unchangeable, we are justified in reading by this light from heaven the prophetic declarations of the course and principles of His earthly providences.

With such views as these elevating our thoughts beyond the details of perished empires into the mightier truths of the eternal empire of our God, let us reflect briefly upon the words before us.

The prophet appears to introduce himself as addressed in scorn by the people of the land which he is commissioned to warn. “Watchman, what of the night?” What new report of woe hast thou to unroll, who has placed thyself as an authorised observer and censurer of our doings? But the prophetical watchman—the calm commissioner of Heaven—replies, adopting their own language, “Yea, the morning (the true morning of hope and peace) cometh, and also the night (the real and terrible night of God’s vengeance); if ye will (if ye are in genuine earnest to inquire), inquire! Return, come.” Obtain the knowledge you see, the knowledge of the way of life; and, acting upon this knowledge, repent and return to the Lord your God.

Regard, then, the guilty Edom that is warned; and the office and answer of the watchman who warns it.

I cannot now undertake to count over the array of those who address the spiritual watchmen of the Church of Christ in tones of derision, and mock their ministry. Some there are who ask the report of “the night” with utter carelessness as to the reply; some there are who ask it in contempt.

But what is still the duty of him who holds the momentous position of watchman in the city of God? On the occasion before us, remark—1. He did not turn away from the question, in whatever spirit it was asked. 2. He uttered with equal assurance a threat and a promise. 3. He pressed the necessity of care in the study, and earnest inquiry after the nature, of the truth; and he summed up all in an anxious, a cordial, and reiterated invitation to repentance and reconciliation with an offended but pardoning God. Thus, the single verse might be regarded as an abstract of the duties of the ministerial office.—W. Archer Butler: Sermons, vol. ii. pp. 339–345.

 

Night and Morning.

xxi. 11, 12. Watchman, what of the night?

That there is night in this world few will question. He must be a bold optimist who thinks everything as it is, is for the best possible in the best possible of worlds. Darkness still covers the earth. God’s children, who have a glorious light within them, have a dark night all round about them. Night is the symbol of gloom and suffering; and it is the season of sin. It is moral night, because “men loved darkness rather than light.” Every true-hearted, earnest Christian is a watchman: he watches for his own soul, and for the souls of others; and he longs for the advent of the world’s new morning, when the shadows shall flee away. Regarding the earnest Christian as the person accosted in the text, what are his thoughts and fears about the night? What are his hopes about the morning?

1. When the Christian looks out upon the world, he sees himself surrounded by the night of unbelief and irreligion, and yet he beholds streaks of sunny dawn. There are many things at which if he looked exclusively he would despair—materialism taught by popular teachers, atheism the creed of not a few, abounding luxury, sensuality defiling and degrading all classes of the community. But, looking beyond these, he sees evidences of Christian truth and hope such as the world never before witnessed—Sunday-schools, tract societies, home and foreign missions, various organisations for Christian labour, generously supported and efficiently maintained; and, as he looks, he feels that the morning draweth nigh.

II. When the Christian man looks into his own heart, he sees much that speaks of the night, but much also that tells of the coming morning.

III. The Christless man, as well as the Christian, may well ask, “What of the night?” He may relieve the gloom of his existence by a few sparks of transient merriment, but soon they will be all extinguished; and for him there will be no morning!—W. M. Statham: Christian World Pulpit, iii. 193.

Passing from the historical application of this oracle, we observe that it may be taken as setting forth the spirit of inquiry first raised in the soul by the hand of God, the form that inquiry will take, the answer it will receive, and the direction in which it will find ultimate satisfaction.

I. Thoughts on the spirit of religious inquiry. The picture before us is that of a walled city; the middle watch of the night, when the citizens are asleep. But one anxious spirit cannot sleep; he turns out into the dark, silent, deserted street, oppressed by a strange feeling that something is going to happen. He hears the heavy footfall of the watchman pacing to and fro on the city walls. With eagerness not to be repressed, he cries, “Watchman,” &c. This is symbolical; it has its counterparts in our own time. 1. This restless inquirer is the exception. The many sleep, only one wakes and inquires. The danger is common, but only one feels any apprehension of it. There are multitudes of sinners, few inquirers concerning the way of salvation. 2. The spirit of inquiry appears in an unexpected quarter. A man of Seir, an Edomite, lifts up eager questions; the men of Israel sleep. The old, old story. Many lepers in Israel: Naaman cleansed; ten healed, the Samaritan only returns to give thanks. The boldest ventures of faith were made by the Gentile centurion and the Syro-Phœnician woman. Those who pressed into the kingdom were not Scribes and Pharisees, but publicans and sinners. So it is still. 3. The inquiry was well directed. The appeal was not to the citizens who were asleep, but to the watchman who was awake. If you have questions to ask, ask of the man of quick perception, keen sensibility, high standing, broad and firm basis of hope in Christ. Not necessarily of the minister, but of the man who is spiritually wide-awake; he is the true watchman. 4. The inquiry was weighty. What of the night? Is it far spent? When will the day dawn? What of the foe? Are they quiet in their camp? Or are they endeavouring to surprise and capture the city? We have all cause to put questions of corresponding importance. 5. This inquiry was earnest. In some cases the inquiry is listless, is only a matter of compliment; or it is entered upon reluctantly, as an unpleasant duty. But this man is in earnest. He calls again and again. He will be heard; it is a matter of moment to him. He does not know what is about to happen; the watchman should know—placed high, outlook wide, senses trained. The inquirer will not submit to be disregarded. Oh, for more of this earnestness.

II. Thoughts on the answer. 1. The answer comes through the watchman. Human lips start inquiries and through human lips the answer comes. One heart is filled with fear; another heart filled with faith must be its helper. Let those to whom the answer has been entrusted give it promptly, clearly, joyfully. 2. The answer declares God’s methods with men. God has two great methods: one has its image in the morning, the other in the night. Let morning set forth compassion, tender mercy, loving gifts; night, judgment, awful anger, heavy inflictions. If the morning be neglected or resisted, then the night will certainly fall upon you. Note the order in which these methods are employed. 1. Morning, fresh, clear, dewy, bracing, beautiful, comes first. So in the history of the world, of the Church, of the individual. First the morning of youth! prize it highly, use it wisely. Upon the sinner comes first the morning of mercy, of invitation, of entreaty and promise. Alas that he should despise and neglect it! 2. But the night comes afterwards! True, the night of death comes to all, but there is an infinite distance between death in Christ and death out of Christ. He who dies in Christ, passes into the eternal day; he who dies out of Christ, is cast into “the outer darkness!”

“Inquire”—seek to know the way of salvation. “Return”—as the prodigal from the far country. “Come”—blessed word! “Come” penitently, believingly, now!—J. R. Wood.

“Night” is suggestive of anxious, perplexed, critical states; e.g., travellers in the desert, voyagers on the ocean, sufferers in the sick-chamber. Very naturally do we transfer such thoughts as these to our spiritual experiences (Ps. cxxx. 1, 8). Our text may be taken as suggestive of the World’s Cry and the World’s Hope in all ages.

I. The world’s cry. “What of the night?” This is—1. The cry of a soul awakened to its guilt. The very purpose of conviction is to show the sinner his wandering, downward, benighted state. Hence the terror which first views of guilt usually cause. The flash which in the midnight hour shows the traveller the path of safety, also shows him the dreadful precipice which yawns at his feet. When the sinner is aroused from his sinful career, he is bewildered by the many voices of hope and fear, of warning and promise, which greet his ear; he is oppressed with anxiety to know how such a night of danger and heart-searching will end. 2. The cry of a soul struggling with its doubts. The night of mystery often burdens the hearts of true believers, as Job and David found when they struggled with the great problems of life. Life is a new thing to each of us, and many of the same problems perplex us still: e.g., the existence of moral evil, the infinite goodness of God, the truth of Divine revelation. These sometimes press upon us with unusual weight, and shroud us in thick darkness. 3. The cry of the Church in its hours of anxiety and peril. These have been frequent, and have been due to many causes: e.g., persecution from without, indifference within, general ungodliness and unholy living, tides of scepticism. The watchmen of the Church have to keep an earnest and anxious vigil when such nights as these settle upon her. 4. The cry of humanity itself. There are times when not merely a few men are oppressed by the burdens of their time, but when men in the mass become awake to them. The world betrays its keen sense of disease by the strong remedies it employs. Against wide-spread ignorance, it opposes vast educational schemes; for deep-rooted vices, it contrives various measures of reformation; under a sense of the terrible ravages of the war-spirit, it yearns for international peace. Nations, as well as individuals, have trying experiences of the terrors of social and moral night.

II. The world’s hope. “The morning cometh.” In the midst of all the world’s darkness we may cherish this blessed hope (H. E. I., 3421–3423). But whence is it derived? Solely from the fact that God in Christ is reconciling the world unto Himself. It is along the track of Divine revelation that we look for the bright rays of the morning. There is hope for our race because of what Christ is—the Revealer of God, the Saviour of sinners, the Head of the Church, the Restorer of humanity. The way, then, to help on the dawning of that day we all long to see, is to live in Him, to live for Him. Life derived from Him, and spent for Him, will be truly blessed in itself, and will be a means of blessing others.—William Manning.

 

The Grievousness of War.

xxi. 15. The grievousness of war.

In our quiet sanctuary, so full of holy and peaceful memories, let us think about war; the more deeply we do so, the more will the aptness of the phrase which forms our text become apparent to us.

I. The grievousness of war is seen in its causes. War is grievous in its origin and in all the things that foster it. It has its origin in the unholy lusts and pitiful mistakes of mankind (Jas. iv. 1). These lusts and mistakes, what are they? 1. The lust for increased possessions and for power (P. D., 143, 150). 2. The false glory with which war has been invested. To steal and kill on a small scale is infamous, but to do so on a large scale is heroic! The wholesale butcher surrounds himself with pomp and pageantry that dazzle the eye and enslave the mind (P. D., 3470, 3476). 3. Blindness to the real fields on which true courage and heroism are manifested. The Christian courage which can meet and overcome the assaults of wickedness, which can turn aside the edge of scorn, and hurl back the weapons of temptation; that can urge men through living martyrdoms which do not keep time to music or song, which carries Moffat into South Africa, &c.,—this is too ethereal for most men to discern or admire. They have no suspicion of the moral victories that might be theirs on the fields of humble service and self-sacrifice. 4. Insensibility to the worth of human souls. A suspicion of the value of life would unnerve the warrior for his task; he could not then, as he does now, regard men as mere food for powder.

II. The grievousness of war is seen in its effects. These are twofold:—1. Physical. “The grievousness of war” cannot be exaggerated, if we look at it from this point of view alone. Think—(1) of the physical and mental suffering that is caused by it (P. D., 3468, 3469, 3472, 3476); (2) of the far-reaching and crushing desolation caused by it (P. D., 3466); (3) of the frightful cost of preparation for war; of the armed truce in which the nations of Europe live. 2. Moral. These are still more terrible. (1.) War brutalises those actually engaged in it (P. D., 3464). (2.) War makes criminals by producing a state of want. (3.) War aggravates national animosities, and leaves to unborn generations a legacy of hatred. Every war sows the seeds of future conflict. (4.) War and preparation for war check the progress of those agencies by which the misery of our race would be abated, and its happiness indefinitely increased. The cause of education, of mission, of the Gospel, languishes under the blight of the war-spirit. The cost of a very few wars would evangelise the world (P. D., 3476).

Let this meditation move us to action. 1. Let us exert our utmost influence to bring it to pass that national power shall be wielded by men who love peace. 2. Let us encourage everything that tends to facilitate international intercourse (P. D., 3461). 3. Let us on every possible occasion exalt moral qualities above mere physical daring (P. D., 1798, 1810–1803). 4. Let us put forth every effort to diffuse the principles of Christianity. The Gospel is the only true and effectual peacemaker; only in Christ will men ever be lastingly reconciled to each other.—William Manning.

 

The Irresistibleness of God’s Judgments.

xxii. 18. He will surely violently turn and toss thee like a ball into a large country.

Such was the prophet’s message to a haughty statesman who prided himself on his power. Learn from it—1. The ease with which God effects His judgments. There are many things we wish to do which require great preparations and extensive machinery; but to toss a ball from the hand is an easy matter, mere child’s play. He who takes up the isles as a very little thing, performs all His works with an ease which cannot be baffled or disturbed. 2. The utter uselessness of any resistance to the Divine judgments. As surely as a ball must follow the line of projection, so surely must we go whither the judgments of God carry us when His set time to visit us is come (H. E. I., 2269, 4960). 3. The awfulness of falling into the hands of the living God.William Manning.

 

The Glory of the Messiah.

xxii. 24. And they shall hang upon him all the glory of his father’s house—

As on the nails or spikes fixed in the walls of the ancient temples and palaces it was customary to hang suits of armour, shields, helmets, swords, &c., that had been taken in war as spoils of victory, or that had been used by illustrious ancestors. The declaration is made concerning Eliakim, and the meaning of it is, that all his relatives would connect with him all they deemed illustrious, and would rest upon him as their common support. Some of the expressions used concerning him are appropriated by our Redeemer to Himself (comp. ver. 22 and Rev. iii. 7); and, without adopting the view that Eliakim was a type of Christ, we may say that, true as this declaration was concerning Eliakim, it is still more eminently true of Him to whom “the key of David” belongs by right. Upon Him “they shall hang all the glory of His Father’s house.”

I. The glory that is placed upon Christ. Applying the text to Christ, the phrase “His father’s house” acquired a new and more glorious significance, even that of the Church of the living God, the one family in heaven and on earth. All the glory of that spiritual and eternal house depends upon and is justly ascribed to Christ. 1. All the glory of purchasing the Church. All the persons of whom it is composed were in circumstances of bondage and misery, yea, under sentence of death, for which He ransomed them at inconceivable cost (1 Pet. i. 18, 19). 2. All the glory of redeeming the Church. This is not a mere repetition of what has just been said. We are the subjects of a twofold redemption—a redemption of price and a redemption of power. From the penalties of sin Christ redeemed us by His blood; from the power of sin, by His Spirit. A supremely difficult and an eternally glorious task is that which He thus undertook and has accomplished. 3. All the glory of preserving the Church. What a marvellous history of dangers and deliverances it has had! 4. All the glory of perfecting the Church. It shall be complete in number, complete and resplendent with every spiritual grace. Remember what marvellous symbols are employed to set forth the beauty and the preciousness of its component parts, what treasures of spiritual wisdom and grace are already included in it. Hereafter, when it shall stand in all its radiance, the wonder and the admiration of all heavenly intelligences, all the glory of it shall hang upon Christ.

II. The persons who unite in placing this glory on Christ.They shall hang,” &c. 1. The penitent sinner hangs upon Christ all the glory of his hope of acceptance with God. 2. The justified believer hangs upon Him all the glory of the favoured position in which he stands. 3. The spiritual veteran hangs upon Him all the glory of his triumphs. 4. The dying Christian hangs upon Him all the glory of the calmness and courage with which he advances to the final victory. 5. The glorified Church hangs upon Him all the glory of its perfected salvation. 6. Angels and archangels, though they were not the subjects of redemption, join in the song of salvation (Rev. v. 11–13), and ascribe to Him all the splendour in which they shine. 7. God exalted Him to the right hand of power, and gave Him a Name above every name (Phil. ii. 9–11).

“Oh that with yonder sacred throng
   We at His feet may fall,
 Join in the everlasting song,
   And crown Him Lord of all!”

George Smith, D.D.

 

Glorifying God in the Fires.

xxiv. 15. Glorify ye the Lord in the fires.

We are required to honour God, not only in all we do (1 Cor. x. 31), but in all we suffer (text). Consider—

I. The state here supposed. “In the fires.” Fire and water are both Scriptural figures of affliction (Ps. lxvi. 12; Isa. xliii. 2; 1 Pet. iv. 12). Stripped of metaphor, the passage before us supposes a state of suffering. In this state we may be found—1. As men (Job v. 6, 7; H. E. I., 47–51); 2. As Christians (Ps. xxxiv. 19). This may seem strange to the natural man, who concludes that the favourite of Heaven is entitled to every indulgence upon earth; and it has proved a source of temptation to the people of God themselves, who have been led from their sufferings to suspect their safety. But this inference is unscriptural (Heb. ii. 10; Isa. liii. 10; Matt. x. 25; Heb. xii. 6; H. E. I., 189–196). Could we view many of those who are infinitely dear to God, we should find them in a state of affliction, often exceedingly trying; and we should see them there, not hardening themselves by infidel reasonings or stoical apathy; not endeavouring to banish all sense of their sorrows by repairing to the dissipations of the world; but waiting humbly upon God (Ps. lxi. 1, 2; H. E. I., 157, 158). This is well; but it is not enough to seek God in our afflictions, we must serve Him. Consider, then—

II. The duty here enjoined. “Glorify,” &c. We cannot add to God’s essential glory, but we can declare it; we can make it more fully and widely known (Ps. xix. 1). This is the duty to which we are at all times called (1 Pet. ii. 9). We discharge it in affliction, when we verbally and practically acknowledge—1. God’s agency, recognising that our trial has not come upon us by accident, but by His appointment or permission (Job ii. 10; H. E. I., 143; P. D., 92, 99). 2. His rectitude (Ps. cxlv. 17; Dan. ix. 7; Ps. cxix. 75). 3. His wisdom, which regulated His corrections and every circumstance connected with them. He never errs in the time, the place, the kind, the instrument, the continuance of affliction; it is precisely the very thing we need, and nothing could be altered without injury (H. E. I., 179–188). 4. His goodness, in sending the affliction at all (H. E. I., 162–165), and in the alleviations and compensations by which it is accompanied (H. E. I., 117–121). A grateful mind will never overlook these. 5. His power, to support us in the affliction, and in due season to deliver us from it. All the records of Scripture should minister to our faith in His ability to help and deliver; He is unchangeable; He is as near you as He was to His people of old; and you are as dear to Him as they were (H. E. I., 198–202).

III. Reasons for discharging the duty. We ought to glorify God in the fires—1. Because it is our duty to honour Him at all times, and affliction cannot possibly exempt us from it. Though He has permitted affliction to come upon us, He still remains our Creator, our Preserver, our Benefactor, our Redeemer, and as such is entitled to the homage of our heart and life. 2. Because affliction furnishes one of the finest opportunities for honouring God (H. E. I., 3692–3694). 3. Hope should animate us, because it is distinctly declared that those who honour God shall be honoured by Him.

As the consequence of sanctifying God in the fires, one of two things is certain: either they will be removed, for when the end is answered the dispensation will cease; or you will be compensated for their continuance, by increase of grace, or the future recompense of glory, or in both these ways combined.

But can we, who are so weak, perform a duty so hard? No, you cannot do it; but the grace of God will be sufficient even for this. View your difficulties in connection with your supplies, God’s commands in connection with His promises, and boldly face them all (Phil. iv. 12, 13).—William Jay: Works, vol. xii. pp. 159–169.

Glorify God—1. In the fires of persecution by resolute adherence to the truth; 2. In the fires of temptation by a firm resistance to evil; 3. In the fires of affliction by patient submission to His will.—George Smith, D.D.

 

The Grand Appropriation.

xxv. 1. O Lord, Thou art my God.

I. The connection between god and ourselves. 1. The Lord is our God in a necessary and absolute sense. 2. He should be our God by choice (H. E. I., 306, 307, 2381, 2385, 4630–4647, 4970). 3. If He is thus to become our God, it must be through the person and work of our Lord Jesus Christ, and by the exercise of an appropriating faith (H. E. I., 1652).

II. The advantages we may anticipate from this connection. 1. Light in darkness. 2. Guidance in perplexity. 3. Protection in danger. 4. Strength in duty. 5. Consolation in sorrow. 6. Sanctity and glory.

III. The duties arising out of the connection. 1. We should exalt Him. 2. We should be jealous for His honour. 3. We must obey His commands. 4. We should acquiesce in His will. 5. We should seek our pleasure and satisfaction from Him.—John Corbin.

 

The Gospel Feast.

xxv. 6–8. And in this mountain, &c.

The blessings of the Gospel are, with wise adaptation to our views and feelings, often compared to the objects in which man naturally take most delight; and here, as in other places, they are compared to a costly entertainment bestowed by the Sovereign of the universe on the children of His love. It was the custom of Oriental monarchs on great occasions to make rich feasts on a scale of magnificence, of which we in the West can form scarcely any idea (Esther i. 3–7).[1] At these entertainments wise men were often assembled, and important questions in morals and literature were discussed: hence the benefits of knowledge and wisdom were often exhibited under the image of a great feast (Prov. ix. 1–5). The prophet, as our Lord Himself afterwards (Matt. xxii. 1–3; Luke xiv. 16–24), speaks in accordance with the habits of thinking common in his time, when he sets forth the blessings of the Gospel under the image of a great feast.

I. A banquet of grace and salvation spread for the needy (ver. 6). 1. It is a feast worthy of the Founder (Esther i. 7). He who studies it most closely, will be most struck by the vastness of the resources and the magnificence of the generosity of Him who spread it. 2. It is eminently a feast of reconciliation and restored friendship. The feasts of the ancients were often connected with sacrificial rites, were employed to confirm covenants, and to celebrate the reconciliation of those who had been estranged and at enmity with each other. We have an interesting illustration of all this in what we are told of Jacob and Laban (Gen. xxxi. 43–55). When Joseph was about to reveal himself in love to his brethren, and to unite them all in a new bond of peace, he made a feast for them (Gen. xliii. 31–34). So did the father of the prodigal, to testify the perfectness of his reconciliation to his guilty but penitent child (Luke xv. 23). The feast of which our text speaks, is a feast founded upon a sacrifice; it is a feast of reconciliation effected by means of sacrifice; it is the sublime and glorious realisation of the ancient symbol of the feast that followed upon the presentation of the peace-offering (Lev. vii. 11–16). It is the fact that it is a feast of reconciliation that gives sweetness and preciousness to all the sweet and precious things of which it is composed, just as it was the fact that they symbolised his restoration to his place in his father’s home and heart that made the ring, and the robe, and all the choice viands before him, delightful to the pardoned prodigal (chap. xii. 1; Rom. v. 1, 2, 11). 3. Its magnificence and its delightfulness are heightened by the number of those who partake of it. The rich provisions of the Gospel are as widely spread as they are widely needed. This is a joy to the Christian, for to a noble mind happiness multiplied is happiness heightened.

II. Illumination for the ignorant (ver. 7). There was a symbolical fulfilment of this prophecy in the hour of our Saviour’s death (Matt. xxvii. 51); that which had hidden the Holy of Holies from the sight of men was rent in twain. A spiritual fulfilment of it is the need of the world and of each individual: by a veil of ignorance and prejudice the truths which it would be to their highest interest to see clearly. This is declared concerning the Jews (2 Cor. iii. 15), but it is just as true of the majority of the Gentiles: they also see no desirableness in Christ, no preciousness in the salvation He offers them. But this destructive veil has been taken away from the hearts of millions, and shall yet be removed from the heart of a vaster multitude—by the diffusion of God’s Word, the preaching of the Gospel, and the accompanying agency of the Holy Spirit. The preliminary fulfilment of this prophecy at the day of Pentecost (Acts ii. 5, 41) shall have still more glorious counterparts in the not distant future.

III. Consolation for the sorrowing and life for the dying (ver. 8).


This glorious prophecy is in the course of fulfilment all around us; but to us individually it may be as if God had not been faithful to His Word. We may have no appetite for spiritual enjoyments, no craving for spiritual blessings (Col. ii. 18, 19). In this case, so far as we are concerned, this feast will have been spread in vain (Luke xiv. 18). If any man is conscious that for him the Gospel has no attractions, if he can listen to this prophecy without a glow of thankful joy, let him cry mightily to God for that new heart without which all that God’s wonderful compassion has moved Him to do for our race will leave him still unblessed (H. E. I., 4090).—Samuel Thodey.

This beautiful passage may be taken as presenting some of the principal aspects of the establishment of Christ’s kingdom upon the earth. It expresses in a most lively manner the feelings of hope and joy which the Gospel is naturally fitted to call forth, and it unfolds the Saviour’s work to us under the ideas of a feast, a revelation, and a victory.

I. The Gospel speaks to men of a feast. It assumes that they are spiritually destitute, in actual danger of perishing, and it tells them of a feast. 1. A feast provided for all (ver. 6). Christ came not for the exclusive benefit of Jew or Gentile; He came for man (Luke xix. 10). He invites all to share in the blessings He has provided (Luke xiv. 16), and declares that the invitation will not be given in vain (Matt. viii. 11). 2. A feast of the best things. Suggested here by the richness and flavour of wines long preserved. We are apt to miss the truth that the blessings which the Gospel offers are of the richest quality and of the highest value conceivable; we act as if it required us to give up a certain good for a doubtful and visionary one. This accounts for the eagerness with which men seek first “the world,” regarding “the kingdom of God” as something to be made room for after all else has been obtained (H. E. I., 5006, 5007).

II. The Gospel is a revelation to men of God’s gracious purposes (ver. 7). A thing may be a mystery to us in two ways: because it is beyond all human comprehension; or, because though it is comprehensible a veil rests upon it. In the former case the mystery must ever remain what it is; in the latter, the covering has only to be removed, and the mystery is at an end. The morning dispels the mystery of the night. So the Gospel discloses eternal truths of which man has no suspicion (Eph. iii. 2–12). The central, supreme revelation of the Gospel is Christ; and this is so because in Him God, who had dwelt in thick darkness, stands manifestly before us (John xiv. 9; 1 Tim. iii. 16; H. E. I. 855–857, 2241–2243). In Him, too, man is for the first time disclosed to himself; for the first time he catches a glimpse of his nature, of his relation to God, of his glorious possibilities.

III. The Gospel speaks to man of an eternal victory. “He will swallow up death in victory;” or “He shall utterly destroy death for ever.” Here we have suggested to us the crowning work of Christ (2 Tim. i. 10; Heb. ii. 14). In Him the believer has the promise and pledge of a final and glorious triumph. 1. How great, then, should be our confidence even in the midst of the deepest affliction! Doubts, fears, temptations threaten to destroy us; but with Christ strengthening us, our conflict leads to certain victory. He who has conquered will make us “more than conquerors.” 2. With what assurance, therefore, should we approach the hour of death itself! By Him who leads us on, death has been vanquished and captured. Hence death is one of our possessions (1 Cor. iii. 21–23). Death, as in the old time men thought of it, no longer exists; for the Christian it is swallowed up in victory (H. E. I., 1611–1614).—William Manning.

The parable of the Great Supper (Matt. xxii. 1–14) illustrates this prophecy. Consider—

I. The Founder of this feast: “the Lord of hosts.” Hosts—all creatures in the universe, rational and irrational; subject to His inspection; under His control; designed for His glory. What think you of the Founder of this feast? What feast ever had such a Founder? It is a feast worthy of its Founder. How wonderful that He should condescend to provide a feast for the world!

II. The nature of the feast. Not only the best, but the best of the best; bountiful supply; rich variety.

III. The persons for whom this feast has been prepared. All may partake of it; only those are excluded who exclude themselves. 1. Are you making excuses? Will your excuses stand the test of the day of judgment? You must partake, or perish! Delay not; for, as far as you are concerned, the feast will soon be over. Not now too late; “yet there is room.” 2. Are you participants? What present blessings; what future glories! Bless the Founder’s Name. Seek to bring others to the feast.—Henry Creswell.

I. The Author of this feast. Not a prodigal, squandering the fruits of the industry of others. Not a conqueror, satiating admirers with spoils unjustly acquired. Not a pompous Ahasuerus, whose only design is to set forth his own grandeur. God, moved with compassion for rebels against His authority; spreads a rich feast that they may not perish.

II. The site of this feast. “In this mountain.” It is in the everlasting Gospel this entertainment is prepared. In coming to Christ for the pardon of our sins and the salvation of our souls, we come “unto Mount Zion, the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem.” The figure of a “mountain” denotes the elevation, security, and publicity of the Gospel feast. 1. Its elevation. In coming to it, we leave all that is debasing behind. 2. Its security. In coming to it, we reach a place where we may rejoice without fear (Luke i. 71–75). 3. Its publicity. It is our own fault if we do not see it and reach it.

III. The richness of this entertainment. “A feast of fat things, of fat things full of marrow.” Carnal images that set forth spiritual truths. In the Gospel, and in the Gospel alone, is found that which satisfies the hunger of the soul and fills it with delight.

IV. The gladness of the entertainment. “A feast of wines on the lees, of wines on the lees well refined.” A figure founded on the influence of wine on the human system (Ps. civ. 15). The Gospel, when rightly understood and cordially embraced, makes a heavy heart light. What can raise men’s spirits so high, or make them so truly cheerful, as a sense that all their sins are forgiven them? The joy of a literal “feast of wines” is transient, and after the midnight revel come days of unpleasant reflection, reproach, and melancholy. But the joy of the Gospel is pure and permanent.

V. The extensiveness of the entertainment. It is “unto all people.” Other entertainments may be confined to the rich, the great, and the noble; here all such distinctions are done away. Christianity is a universal religion, designed to redeem and gladden the whole world. Its invitations are extended to all (Prov. ix. 1–5; Rev. xxii. 17).—William Reeve, M.A., Miscellaneous Discourses (pp. 229–237).

I. The feast. The blessings of the Gospel are compared—1. To “fat things full of marrow.” What are they? Complete justification, adoption, the sustaining confidence of being an object of God’s everlasting love—a love which had no beginning and shall have no end, union with Christ (and all that great truth implies), the doctrine of resurrection and everlasting life. These are a few of the “fat things full of marrow” which the King of kings has set before His guests. 2. To “wines on the lees well refined”—symbols of the joys of the Gospel; such a sense of perfect peace with God, the sense of security, communion with God, the pleasures of hope, of hope that falls far short of the reality. The description of the wines—“wines on the lees well refined”—reminds us that the joys of the believer are ancient in their origin,[2] that they are most excellent in their flavour and aroma, and that they are pure and elevating in their nature. The joys of grace are not fantastical emotions, or transient flashes of meteoric excitement; they are based on substantial truth, are reasonable, fit and proper, and make men like angels (H. E. I., 1082, 3052, 3053).

II. The banqueting hall. “In this mountain.” There is a reference here to three things, the same symbol bearing three interpretations:—1. The mountain on which Jerusalem is built. On a little knoll of that mountain—Calvary—that great transaction was fulfilled which made to all nations a great feast. 2. The Church. Frequently Jerusalem is used as a symbol of the Church of God, and it is within the pale of the Church that the great feast is made unto all nations. 3. The Church of God exalted to the latter-day glory. Then shall the glory of the Gospel be unveiled more clearly and enjoyed more fully than at present.

III. The host of the feast. “The Lord of hosts.” 1. The Lord makes it, and makes it all. It is utterly improper for us to bring anything of our own to it; the Lord provides even the wedding-garment in which we are to sit at it, and no other will be allowed. 2. Only the Lord of hosts could have provided what man needed. But He has done it, and done it effectually. 3. As the Lord of hosts has provided the feast, it is not to be despised. To despise it will show our folly, and involve us in great guilt. 4. As He has provided all the feast, let Him have all the glory.

IV. The guests. “For all people.” For all, irrespective of national, social, intellectual, or even moral differences. The declaration, “for all people,” gives hope for all who wish to come. Between the covers of the Bible there is no mention of one person who may not come, no description of one person who may not trust in Christ. To him who trusts Christ the whole feast is open, there is not a blessing of which he may not partake.—C. H. Spurgeon, Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit, No. 846.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Alexander gave a feast after his return from India of five days’ continuance, when ninety marriages were celebrated and nine thousand guests assembled. Diodorus Siculus describes the festivities with which Antisthenes, a rich citizen of Agrigentum (b.c. 414), celebrated the marriage of his daughter: all the citizens of Agrigentum were entertained at his expense on tables laid for them at their own doors, beside a great number of strangers. The festivities, as in the parable of the Ten Virgins, took place in the evening, and the whole city was one blaze of light. The Roman and Egyptian banquets were proverbial for their costliness and splendour. In Persia still, royal banquets are prolonged for many weeks; and a Chinese emperor used frequently to make a feast that lasted a hundred and twenty days.—Thodey.

[2] Old wines are intended by “wines well refined;” they have stood long on the lees, have drawn out all the virtue from them, and have been cleared of all the coarser material. In the East, wine will be improved by keeping even more than the wines of the West! and even so the mercies of God are the sweeter to our meditations because of their antiquity. From old eternity, or ever the earth was, the covenant engagements of everlasting love have been resting like wines on the lees, and to-day they bring to us the utmost riches of all the attributes of God.—Spurgeon.

 

The Triumphs of Christ.

xxv. 8. He wil swallow up death in victory, &c.

It is important at the very outset that we should clearly recognise the Person and the dignity of the Person of whom all these things are declared. Otherwise it will be impossible for us to look for the fulfilment of these marvellous promises. We have the authority of St. Paul for declaring that the Person is none other than our Lord Jesus Christ. To Him he ascribes the victory over death (1 Cor. xv. 54). Thus St. Paul authorises the most exalted conceptions we can find of the dignity of our Lord; for the work which he declares will be fulfilled by Christ is in our text ascribed to Jehovah: “The Lord God will wipe away,” &c. It is of “the Lord of hosts” that Isaiah speaks throughout (vers. 6–8). Thus we have here one of the invaluable incidental proofs with which Scripture abounds of the deity of our Lord. If He is “the Lord of hosts,” then we can believe all the things here declared of Him.

I. The deliverance of Christ’s people from death. “He will swallow up death in victory”—as the rods of the magicians were swallowed up by the rod of Aaron; as the hosts of Pharaoh were swallowed up by the waters of the Red Sea; as the darkness of the night is swallowed up in the brightness of the morning. True, God’s people must depart hence, like other people; but in regard to them Christ “has swallowed up death in victory.” 1. By imparting to them a spiritual life and blessedness which are not touched by the dissolution of the union of body and soul. 2. By sustaining and comforting them while that mysterious process is being accomplished. How often has the deathbed of the believer been a scene of triumph! 3. By utterly changing the character of death in regard to them. To them it is not a curse but a blessing (H. E. I., 1571–1594, 1594–1643). 4. By the promises which on the morning of the resurrection He will surely fulfil. “Then,” &c. (1 Cor. xv. 54; H. E. I., 4334–4354).

II. The deliverance of Christ’s people from sorrow. “The Lord God will wipe away tears from off all faces,”—tears of sorrow for sin; of mourning under affliction, trials, and bereavements; of grief caused by the wickedness of men and the injury done to the cause of truth and righteousness: all shall be wiped away, every cause of sorrow brought to an end.

III. The deliverance of Christ’s people from the shame and contempt of the world.Samuel Thodey.

 

A Sorrowless World.

xxv. 8. And the Lord God will wipe away tears from off all faces.

The vision presented is that of a sorrowless world; a vision which has haunted the imagination of men in every age. The Bible declares that that which has been merely a bright but disappearing dream shall be a glorious fact.

I. Look at sorrow as a fact. How early we become acquainted with it. How our experience of it increases with every year of life. How numerous are its sources. How inevitable it is (H. E. I., 47–50). But the profoundest, heaviest, most oppressive, and most enduring sorrow of which we are capable is the sorrow of the soul which is caused by consciousness of guilt. Unlike all other sorrows, in the thought of death it finds no relief; by that thought it is unspeakably aggravated (H. E. I., 1334–1341; P. D., 1664, 1668).

II. Proceed to look at God removing sorrow. “The Lord God will wipe away tears from off all faces.” How great the enterprise! Yet how sufficient, though unexpected and startling, is the agency He employs: on this mission of mercy He has sent His own Son. God as His manner is, works from within outwards; He not only wipes off all tears, He removes their cause. That cause is sin. But how does He destroy sin in the human soul? 1. By revealing it, by showing its essential hideousness—one of the revelations of the cross of Christ. It is not until we perceive the costliness of the atonement of sin, that we begin to suspect its terribleness and hatefulness. 2. By showing that sin can be conquered. This is the glorious message and proclamation of the life of the Man Christ Jesus. 3. By furnishing a motive that shall stimulate us to the conflict with sin which will end in victory. That motive is found in the love for Christ which springs up in the soul when we view Him dying on the cross in our stead. 4. In the same marvellous spectacle we see that which alone can pacify conscience, and which does pacify it. Believing, our fears and our sorrows flee away; our mourning is turned into joy. The supreme need of the soul is met in reconciliation with God. A sorrowless life is begun. But that is not all. Having destroyed—in destroying sin in the soul, God implants righteousness (chap. xxxii. 17). He creates as well as destroys. He introduces into our thoughts, words, actions, a Divine order, and therefore a Divine beauty and blessedness. All sorrow springs from infractions of this order; this is seen in national, social, individual life. In proportion as it is restored, tears are wiped away. The great Agent by whom this work is accomplished is His own Spirit; but He works by means, and the chief instruments He employs are those who, in various ways, are promoting the knowledge and practice of the will of God in the world. In this work we may share; this possibility is the glory of our life. By the progress of Christian truth, how many tears have been already wiped away! In spite of every obstacle, the glorious work shall proceed, with ever-accelerating triumphs. There is a better day dawning for our race (H. E. I., 3421–3423). Nothing can bring it in but the Gospel. All other agencies—commerce, education, literature, art, legislation—have been tried and have failed. He who loves humanity will consecrate himself to the furtherance of the Gospel; and he who does so shall share in that joy of redeeming the world from sin and sorrow by the hope of which Christ was sustained amid the sufferings He endured for this great end.—Thomas Neave.

 

Advent Thoughts and Joys.

xxv. 9. And it shall be said in that day, &c.

Isaiah is here, as he is so often, the prophet not merely of future events, but of future states of mind and feeling; not merely of God’s dealings with His people, but of the way in which they would or should meet their God.

To what event does he refer?

1. First of all, to the deliverance of Hezekiah and his people from King Sennacherib.[1] That deliverance was recognised as God’s work. The recognition of God’s presence in the great turning-points of human history is in all ages natural to religious minds. He is with men and nations at all times, but in the great crises of history that presence is brought more vividly before the imagination. So was it when a great storm destroyed the Spanish Armada, and when the power of the first Napoleon was broken first at Leipsic and then at Waterloo. Devout minds felt that these were reappearances of God in human history, and they rejoiced in Him.

2. But beyond the immediate present, Isaiah sees, it may be indistinctly, into a distant future. The judgment of his time foreshadowed some universal judgment upon all the enemies of mankind, some deliverance final, universal, at the end of time. For that judgment and deliverance the Church, both on earth and in heaven, waits and prays (Ps. lxxiv. 10, 22, 23; Rev. vi. 9, 10). To them the answer seems to be long delayed; but it will come (Rev. vi. 12–17); and when at last it bursts upon the world, it will be welcomed by the servants of God as was the deliverance of Jerusalem from the Assyrian army.

3. But between the days of Hezekiah and the final judgment there is another event closer to the prophet’s thought—the appearance of the great Deliverer in the midst of human history. All that belongs to the nearer history of Judah melts away in the future which belongs to the King Messiah. The Assyrians themselves are replaced in his thoughts by the greater enemies of humanity; the city of David and Mount Zion become the spiritual city of God, the mountain of the Lord of hosts, the Church of the Divine Redeemer. Here, as so often, the incarnation of the eternal Son of God, with its vast and incalculable consequences to the world of souls, is the keynote of Isaiah’s deepest thought, and in our text he epitomises the heart-song of Christendom, which ascends day by day to the throne of the Redeemer. (1.) “Lo, this is our God.” Christ is not for us Christians merely or chiefly the preacher or herald of a religion of which another being, distinct from Himself, is its object. The Gospel creed does not run thus, “There is no God but God, and Christ is His prophet.” When He appears to the soul of man at the crisis of its penitence, or its conversion, the greeting which meets and befits Him is not, “Lo, this is the good man sent for God to teach some high and forgotten moral truths;” no, but, “Lo, this is our God; we have waited for Him; He will save us!” (H. E. I., 835–845). (2.) So might the Jews, the children of the prophets, have sung; so did some of those who entered most deeply into the meaning of the promises given to their fathers (Luke i. 46–55, 68–79; ii. 29–32). (3.) So might the noble philosophers of Greece have sung; so they did sing when, in Christ the incarnate God, of whom they had dreamed and for whom they had sought, was revealed to them. (4.) So have sung in all ages that multitude of human souls whom a profound sense of moral need has brought to the feet of the Redeemer (H. E. I., 948–971).—H. P. Liddon, M.A.: Christian World Pulpit, vol. xiii. pp. 1–3.

I. What are those comings of Christ which are the occasion of joy to the Church? 1. His coming in the flesh, His incarnation. To this His people had looked forward; in it they rejoiced. Good cause had they for gladness, for He came to spread the gospel feast, to remove the clouds of ignorance and error, to destroy the reign of sin and death. 2. His coming in the Spirit, at the day of Pentecost; in the experience of the individual soul, in the hours of penitence, of temptation, of sorrow. His coming in the flesh was the great promise of the Old Testament; His coming in the Spirit is the great promise of the New. 3. His coming to receive the soul to glory. He comes unchanged. Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints. 4. His coming to bring the present dispensation to a close. It may be heralded by many alarming and distressing events, but it will be itself a cause for joy. To the wicked it will be a day of unmixed terror, but to the righteous of gladness; for it will bring them redemption from the power of every sin, from the assault of every enemy; every fetter will be broken, every cloud dispelled.

II. What is requisite to enable us to welcome the approach of Christ? 1. A knowledge of Him as our God and Redeemer. 2. An experience of the benefits of His salvation. 3. Love for Him. 4. Submission to His will and zeal for his glory.—Samuel Thodey.

I. In the day of judgment nothing will inspire us with joy and confidence but a real interest in Jesus Christ. The ungodly now possess many sources of present enjoyment; but in that day they will have ceased for ever. One grand, all-important idea will then fill the mind: “The solemn day of account is come; how shall I abide in it? How shall I endure the presence of the heart-searching Judge?” But whence can this assurance be obtained? Only from an interest in Jesus Christ. Those who do not possess it will then be filled with shame and terror; but, amid all its terrors, those who do possess it will be enabled to rejoice.

II. In that day none will be found to have a real interest in Christ, nor capable of rejoicing, but those who are now waiting for His coming. This is a characteristic of all genuine Christians (1 Thess. i. 10; Tit. ii. 13; 1 Cor. i. 7; Luke xii. 36). Hence, in our text, we find the saints representing their conduct towards the Lord in the days of their flesh by the same term: “We have waited for Him.” It may be useful, then, to point out some of the particulars implied in this general description of the Christian character. To “wait for Christ” implies—1. A firm belief in his second coming, and of the infinitely momentous consequences which will follow that event. The true Christian walks “by faith, not by sight.” Unlike the profane (2 Pet. iii. 4), he lays it down in his mind as an infallible truth that “the day of the Lord will come.” 2. A constant endeavour to be prepared for it. How the wise virgins acted (Matt. xxv. 4). 3. A patient continuance in well-doing (Luke xii. 35–46). Are you thus “waiting” for the second coming of your Lord?—Edward Cooper: Practical and Familiar Sermons, vol. iv. pp. 225–240.

The chapter from which these words are taken contains a noble description of the glory and grace of God, of His glory in ruling irresistibly the nations of the earth, and in crushing the enemies of His Church, of His glory and grace in the salvation of mankind. It records by anticipation the triumphs of the Gospel, the downfall of the powers of darkness, the annihilation of death itself, the reign of perpetual peace and joy.

I. A recognition of the birth of the Messiah. It is a matter of historical certainty that the people of God did wait for the coming of the Saviour from the time of the very first promise given to the woman after the fall, to the period of our Lord’s appearance upon the earth, at which season there was a general expectation in all the neighbouring regions of the advent of some mighty personage who was to realise all the sublime descriptions of the ancient prophets. Anna the prophetess, Joseph of Arimathea, the aged Simeon and other devout men, were waiting for the “consolation of Israel.”

II. An assertion of His Divinity. “This is our God,”—not merely a prophet, a priest, a king, chosen by Jehovah from among His people, and commissioned to give laws and statutes, as Moses was, or to assert Jehovah’s authority and punish idolatry, as Elijah was, or to denounce His wrath against an apostate people and at the same time to foreshadow a great deliverance to come, as Isaiah was himself, or Jeremiah or any other of those holy men who spake in old times by the Holy Ghost; but this is our God, this is Emmanuel—God with us—God manifest in the flesh.

III. A declaration of His atoning work. How vast that work He took on Himself to execute,—the reconciliation in His own person of sinful man to an offended God, the overthrow of the kingdom of Satan, and the abolition of death! No man could have performed it (Ps. xlix. 7). Could any of the angels, then, have taken in hand this enterprise? Beyond the power, above the conception of any being of limited goodness, knowledge and power, it could only be accomplished by the Divine Son of God. It was God’s work, devised and executed by Omnipotence.

IV. A recognition of the second coming of Christ. We are admonished by the Church that there is a Second Coming of Christ, for which the Church is waiting, and for which we, with every member of the Church, ought to be looking with earnest and anxious expectation. Is our language, “How long, O Lord?” Our answer is, How long the final triumph of the Saviour may be deferred, how long a period may elapse before the world is ripe for judgment, is one of those secrets which God has reserved to Himself (Acts i. 7). The end of all things, it may be not in the literal sense of the word, at hand, is every year and every day and every moment drawing nearer to each of us. We are all in silent but unceasing movement towards the judgment-hall of Christ. In this point of view, the moment of our death may be regarded as placing us at once before His awful tribunal, for the space between the two, as it affects our eternal destination, will be to us as nothing. When the judgment is set, the books opened, we shall suddenly stand before the Judge, precisely in that state of preparation in which we were found at the moment of our departure out of life. Those who have lived as children of God, as servants of Jesus Christ, under the solemn, yet not fearful, expectation of that day, will then be able to lift up their heads and raise the song of joyful recognition.

Application.—If ever there was a great practical truth, this is one. If we do not wait for the great day of the Lord in such a spirit of carefulness and circumspection as to refer to it all our actions, words, and thoughts, then it is perfectly certain that we shall be surprised at its coming and be taken utterly unprepared. It will come on us as a thief in the night, and we shall sink into everlasting perdition; not for the want of means and opportunities of being saved, but for want of common prudence and forethought in the most momentous of all concerns. What, then is the conclusion? Live like men that are waiting for their Lord, then when He arrives, He may be welcomed. Accustom yourselves to His presence, in His sanctuary, at His table, in His word, in secret communings with Him in the temple of a purified heart. So when this solemn day shall have come the glad response may be, “Lo, this is our God, we have waited for Him; He will come and save us!”—C. J. Blomfield, D.D.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] It was no ordinary day that saw the discomfiture of the Assyrian host before the walls of Jerusalem. We can scarcely understand the terror and dismay with which a religious Jew must have watched the growth of those mighty Oriental despotisms which, rising one after the other in the valley of the Euphrates and of the Tigris, aspired to nothing less than the conquest of the known world. The victory of a conqueror like Sennacherib meant the extinction of national life and of personal liberty in the conquered people; it meant often enough violent transportation from their homes, separation from their families, with all the degrading and penal accompaniments of complete subjugation. It meant this to the conquered pagan cities; for Jerusalem it meant this and more. The knowledge and worship of God, by institutions of Divine appointment, maintained only in that little corner of the wide world, were linked on to the fortunes of the Jewish state, and in the victory of Sennacherib would be involved not merely political humiliation, but religious darkness. When, then, his armies advanced across the continent again and again, making of a city a heap, and of a fenced city a ruin, and at last appeared before Jerusalem, when the blast of the terrible men was as a storm against the wall, there was natural dismay in every religious and patriotic soul. It seemed as though a veil or covering, like that which was spread over the holy things in the Jewish ritual, was being spread more and more completely over all nations at each step of the Assyrian monarch’s advance, and in those hours of darkness all true-hearted men in Jerusalem waited for God. He had delivered them from Egyptian slavery; He had given them the realm of David and Solomon. He who had done so much for them would not desert them now. In His own way He would rebuke this insolent enemy of his truth and His people, and this passionate longing for His intervention quickened the eye and welled the heart of Jerusalem when at last it came. The destruction of Sennacherib’s host was one of those supreme moments in the history of a people which can never be lived over again by posterity. The sense of deliverance was proportioned to the agony which had preceded it. To Isaiah and his contemporaries it seemed as though a canopy of thick darkness was lifted from the face of the world, as though the recollections of slaughter and of death were entirely swallowed up in the absorbing sense of deliverance, as though the tears of the city had been wiped away and the rebuke of God’s people was taken from earth, and therefore from the heart of Israel there burst forth a welcome proportioned to the anxious longing that had preceded it, “Lo, this is our God; we have waited for Him; He will save us.”—Liddon.

 

The Protecting Hand.

xxv. 10. For in this mountain shall the hand of the Lord rest.

“Rest!” As a father’s hand on the head of his first-born, blessing and protecting his child. That mountain is impregnable which rests under the shadow of God’s hand.

I. Of every enterprise we should ask, “Is it right?” If wickedness be in “the mountain,” God’s protecting hand will not rest upon it. A just cause creates a good conscience, and hence inspires strength. It is only the just man who feels that God “teaches his hands to war and his fingers to fight, so that a bow of steel is broken by his arms.” “The righteous is bold as a lion.” The good man can patiently wait and confidently expect God’s blessing (James v. 7).

II. Material force allied with injustice will eventually become weak as straw, vile as a dung-heap. The strong places of Moab had no inherent lastingness, because built in a godless spirit (Ps. cxxvii. 1).

III. Forts and castles, ironclads and armies, can never save an unrighteous nation from decay. National selfishness, oppressive enterprises, weaken the strongest defences, corrupt the richest treasurers. Babylon became a marsh, Nineveh a forsaken mound, Tyre a deserted rock. In the Colosseum at Rome where martyrs bled, the fox, the bat, and the owl now make their home. The walls of Moab were levelled with the dust. By justice only can peoples be strong. If God be in the city, its walls will be lasting as the hills.—William Parkes.

 

Days of Deliverance.

xxvi. 1–2. In that day shall this song be sung, &c.

There are days in the history of God’s people when they specially need His interposing power. This is their prayer (Ps. xxx. 10). This their glad confession (Ps. xc. 17). As such seasons of direct deliverance the natural expression of the heart is one of gladness. If the poetic faculty be strong within them, as in the case of the king of Israel, they sing in lyric splendour, as in Psalm xviii.

1. That historic period referred to by the prophet Isaiah in this chapter was such a day. They had been marvellously protected from the invading Assyrian. His host had been smitten as by the blast of the Lord. When from the city walls they saw the thin relics of that grand army hasten away, then would this song of salvation be echoed through the city. When under the imperial protection of Cyrus the exiles returned to their own land, that was another day of deliverance. They rebuilt the temple and renewed the temple service. Then they sang in their own land, the land of Judah, the songs of Zion.

2. But the first great event in their history, the birthday of their nation, their deliverance from Egyptian bondage, was specially memorable as “that day.” And in every subsequent national deliverance from the times of the Judges, all through the splendid leadership of David and the heroic days of the Maccabean brothers, that first deliverance seemed to be renewed, and the old song from the Red Sea shore was again chanted (Ex. xv. 6).

3. In the infant days of the Primitive Church, meeting then in the upper room in Jerusalem, when its two leaders, Peter and John, were seized and confronted with “their rulers, and elders, and scribes,” and sternly threatened “not to speak at all or teach in the name of Jesus.” That was a day of deliverance. Then was seen how gloriously transformed were these two Galilean fishermen under the inspiration of the Kingdom of Christ, how sublimely fit they were to lead the forlorn hope of the Church through the breach of Judaism and heathenism on to the conquest of the world. See Acts iv. 19, 20, 23, 24. How deeply and rapturously impressed was that little church with the conviction that the power of Him who had made heaven and earth was then resting on their own chiefs, and making them bold to speak “His name.” They shook the very walls of the room with the volume of their song: “We have a strong city; salvation will God appoint for walls and bulwarks.”

4. Another day of deliverance came to the early Church, when the cry of the primitive martyrs was heard (Rev. vi. 9, 10). That “little season” soon passed, and their cry was answered; rest came to the martyred Church. No more holy men were thrown to the lions, no more delicate women thrust into caldrons of boiling pitch; the sword slept in its scabbard, and crucifixions were ended. Then the churches had rest, and this hymn was joyously sung. Since those early centuries, God’s Church has passed through many a fiery furnace, and has come out all the purer and all the stronger. And many a song of deliverance has floated up to heaven.

5. This season of gladness has been realised by God’s people individually. (1.) When a consciousness of the forgiveness of sins has come. When in the temple of the soul this voice has been heard: “Thy sins are forgiven thee; go in peace.” (2.) When the child of God has been delivered from some dark calamity, so threatening that no human help could deliver. (3.) But the grandest deliverance is the final one. The best wine is kept for the last cup. When the death-river is crossed, and the crystal gates respond to the command, “Open ye the gates, that the righteous nation which keepeth the truth may enter in.” Then when this corruption has put on incorruption, and this mortal has put on immortality, when standing within that city where the wicked cease from troubling and the weary are at rest, will the redeemed of the Lord shout this song as never before: “We have a strong city, salvation will God appoint for walls and bulwarks.”—William Parkes.

 

Perfect Peace.

xxvi. 3–4. Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, &c.

Our text points to the infallible remedy for the worst of all forms of human ills, a burdened and disconsolate spirit—“perfect peace.”

I. The Author of this peace is none other than God Himself. The mind of man is too active and capacious ever to find rest, unless it be in its Maker. This is the testimony of experience as well as of Scripture. Earthly honours, riches, friendships, leave the heart devoid of enduring peace, because they can do nothing to dispel the sense of guilt and the consequent apprehensions of the future which ever and anon disturb those who possess them most abundantly. We cannot have peace unless we have God for our portion. But how can God, the righteous governor of the universe, be at peace with us sinners? To this question a complete and glorious answer is found in the Gospel, and there only. God Himself, at infinite cost, has opened a way of peace by which we may return to Him. Peace is offered to all who will receive it as His gift, through our Lord Jesus Christ; but only from Him and thus can it be obtained.

II. The peace which God imparts to His people is “perfect.” 1. In its source. This determines its quality. The laws of the human mind are such that our happiness will partake of the character of the object from which it is derived. If it be from an uncertain and unsatisfying world, it will be just as uncertain and unsatisfying; if from the eternal and immutable God, it will be undisturbable. As to both his temporal and eternal necessities, the believer’s Helper is omnipresent and all-merciful. What, then, can he fear (Ps. xxvii. 1)? 2. In its measure. It rises like a river, and swells and rolls onward until it bears sin and sorrow away into the land of forgetfulness. 3. In its adaptation to our needs. These do but afford the occasions for its triumphs. It comes in when all other joys go out, and erects its brightest monuments on the ruins of earthly hopes. There is no trial which it cannot enable us to endure.[1] No wonder that Jesus calls it His peace (John xiv. 27), and bequeaths it to His disciples as the best legacy which it is in His power to bestow. That very repose in God which so filled and cheered His own bosom He delights to share with all who love Him.

III. If this perfect peace is to be ours, we must link ourselves on to God by a simple, earnest, childlike faith. As sinners we must begin by the exercise of a personal faith in His Son as our Saviour. 1. This is essential. Nothing else will answer the purpose. Whatsoever was the strength of the ark built by Noah, or its fitness to float on the water, it could save from the deluge those only who entered it; and so Christ’s death on the cross to procure peace for us will avail us nothing unless through Him we seek reconciliation with God. 2. This is sufficient. Let this be done in the first instance, and be repeated as often as clouds overcast the mind and doubts arise in the heart, and there can be nothing to hinder the enjoyment of peace. Nothing more is needed. Once let a simple trust in the merits of the Saviour take possession of the bosom, and it will go further to produce abiding tranquillity than all the tears and vigils of the most perfect devotee. The peace thus coming to us will never end. Let the penitent sinner but stay himself on the Lord and trust in God of his salvation, and though he “walk in darkness, and see no light,” he is just as safe for both worlds as the power and grace of God can make him.

IV. We have to acknowledge that many who hope for salvation through Christ are not possessed of “perfect peace.” Many believers are “in heaviness through manifold temptations,” and their peace is more like an uncertain brook than a perpetual river moving calmly into the ocean. Why is this? 1. Sometimes, though rarely, because God has been pleased to withdraw the blessed feeling of undisturbed tranquillity, in order that He may produce a deeper sense of dependence on Him. In such cases, peace will be reached again through humble submission to the Divine will concerning us, and trust in the unchangeableness of the Divine love. We must not give way to despondency. We must be on the alert to hear God speaking comfort to us through His Word. 2. Sometimes the believer’s peace is interrupted by a derangement of the physical or mental system. Let us remember that while we are in the flesh we are liable to such trials, and that our salvation does not depend on our feelings, which are changeable as the clouds, but on the Rock of Ages. 3. Sometimes we permit our attention to be turned away from God and engrossed by our trials. It is with us as with Peter (Matt. xiv. 30). But then, like him, let us cry to the Lord, let us obey the exhortation of our text, and we shall find that He can give us both deliverance and peace. 4. Sometimes, alas! we forget that the faith to which peace is promised is a faith that shows itself in “patient continuance in well-doing” (Rom. ii. 7; James ii. 26). Let us not be surprised if, then, our peace departs. Let us return unto the Lord, and beseech Him to heal our backslidings. Restored to the paths of righteousness, we shall find that they, and they alone, are “paths of peace.”

V. It is the duty, as it is the privilege, of all believers to seek for “perfect peace.” With any lower measure of this blessing, we should not be content. 1. Without it, we cannot possess the comfort which God desires that all His people should enjoy. 2. Without it, we cannot help our fellow-men as we ought. It is our duty to reveal to them the power of the grace of God; and in few ways can we so effectually stimulate our fellow-men to seek Him whom they need, as by manifesting that tranquillity they so much desire, and can find only in Him. 3. Without it, we cannot glorify God as we ought. What we are should move onlookers to praise Him, as a lovely landscape uplifts the thoughts of beholders to the Creator of all; but this can be only when the purposes of God in regard to us are fulfilled, and we are rejoicing in the possession of purity and “perfect peace.”—David Magie, D.D.: American National Preacher, vol. xxv. pp. 221–231.

I. All true spiritual peace originates in reconciliation with God. The grand object of the Gospel is to bring about this peace (Luke ii. 14). Jesus Christ is designated “the Prince of peace;” the Father, “the God of peace.” God is really reconciled, i.e., is peaceably disposed towards us, “waiting to be gracious;” but men are not reconciled, not willing to renounce their rebellion and yield themselves to Him. They can have no true peace until they cast away their sins and cast themselves on the Divine mercy, as it is offered to us in and through Jesus Christ. But doing this, it and all other spiritual blessings shall be theirs (Isa. lv. 7; Rom. v. 1).

II. We attain to true spiritual peace precisely in proportion as we attain to perfect harmony with the Divine will. When we first become at peace with one with whom we have previously been at variance, it does not follow that we can at once fall in with all that is required of his household, however justly. So the peace of the regenerated man is not at first perfect, because his submission to the Divine will is only partial. Afterwards, when he can truly say of all God’s proceedings, “Thy will be done,” and his mind is fully “stayed on God,” even when perils threaten and sharp sacrifices are demanded, then his peace “flows like a river,” and grows into “the peace of God which passeth all understanding.”

III. All true spiritual peace is supernatural in its origin. To grant this deep and abiding peace is the prerogative of the Divine Saviour. Friends may leave us houses, lands, gold, but only Christ can give us peace (John xiv. 27). “My peace!” What is Christ’s peace? Not the peace of reconciliation, for with God He never was at variance (Heb. iv. 15; 1 Pet. ii. 22). “My peace” could only mean that mental peace which flows from perfect harmony with the Divine will. Such peace can come to us only through the educational power of Christ. The more we obey the Master, the more implicit will be our submission to God, and the deeper our peace. Only then shall we know “perfect peace.” Such peace, like every Christian grace and holy virtue, being beyond the reach of nature, is supernatural (James i. 17). The child of God, calm amid a tempest of trouble, often excites the wonder of the world. Such quietness of soul is not the result of temperament or of training. It is God’s work: “Thou wilt keep,” &c.

IV. All true spiritual peace is practical in its results. Though in its Divine creation it is “past finding out,” it is not a mystical rapture, a thing in the clouds; it is a reality, a living principle arousing itself for the battle, and standing on the watchtower amid the struggles and trials of daily life (Phil. iv. 7; R. V.) As a garrison seizes and retains a stronghold, so “the peace of God” takes military possession of the soul, and beats off all outside assailants. It has an active as well as a passive side, like a staff which we can draw forth for a fight as well as lean on for rest. 1. It protects the mind. Sceptical thoughts, atheistic objects, may invade the mind and perplex the reason, but then we fall back on this peace. We know that we are never so calm and strong as when we obey the will of God, and keep conscience on our side. Rectitude bringing peace, is an evidence of the divinity of our religion stronger than any sceptical objection that can be brought against it. 2. It protects the heart. Affection allures it; joy and sorrow, hope and fear assail it; but the Christian can withstand these assaults, because he opposes higher things to lower; Divine pleasures to human, riches to riches, honours to honours. He can realise the meaning of the Master’s words (Matt. xix. 29). Resting on such promises as these, he is “kept in perfect peace.”—G. R. Miall.

I. Peace is at once a blessing, and a mother of blessings. How many spring from her! How the poets have sung of her! Peace is needed by every man; every man is conscious of disturbing influences without and within. Peace is earnestly sought by most men. What sanguinary wars have been waged to obtain peace!

II. The idea of “perfect peace,” presented in the text, seems to most men at the most a beautiful dream; in proportion to their experience of life is their disbelief that it can be theirs. But it is declared here that God bestows it on every man whose mind is stayed on Him.

What interpretation are we to put upon this declaration? The experience of God’s people must be our guide in answering this question. This makes it abundantly clear that the peace which God secures for His people does not consist in freedom from assault. This is sometimes vouchsafed them; their foes are scattered, and songs of triumph are given them, such as this chapter. But their experience, taken as a whole, may be said to be a continuous verification of our Saviour’s declaration: “In the world ye have tribulation.”

Instead of caring to secure for His people freedom from assault, He seems rather often to prefer to expose them to it (Matt. iii. 16; iv. 1). He prefers rather to teach them to fight and to conquer; to develop and discipline their virtues by struggles in which they are tried up to the very last point of endurance. For this end, He turns a deaf ear to their prayer, “Lead us not into temptation;” and lets loose upon the foes bent upon their destruction.

Notwithstanding, they may have “perfect peace.” “In the world ye have tribulation: in Me ye have peace.” Not merely that the peace is to succeed the tribulation; the two may co-exist. It is quite possible for peace to dwell in the heart of the chief ruler of a nation waging a terrible war;[2] or in the heart of the captain of a vessel storm-driven; or in the heart of a merchant in the midst of a commercial panic, because he knows that the struggle will for him end in victory. So in the midst of all the conflicts of life, a Christian may have “perfect peace.”

III. A Christian; he, and no other! Not every profound peace is “perfect peace.” The contemporaries of Noah and of Lot; Belshazzar and his court were in “perfect peace,” as far as their feelings were concerned, in the very hour that destruction came upon them. But however much the feelings may be soothed, there is no “perfect peace” that has not a sure basis of fact. For the peace of the wicked there can be no such basis; God and all the forces of the universe are arrayed against the wicked, and their ultimate destruction is sure (Isa. xlviii. 22; Rom. ii. 8, 9). Repentance and reconciliation with God through Christ are the essential preliminary conditions of “perfect peace.”

IV. But is “perfect peace” the possession of all who have complied with these conditions? No. Why? Because they have not yet learned to stay their minds on God. They have faith, but it is yet in the germ, and they have not yet been trained in the exercise (Matt. xiv. 31; xvi. 8). Not upon God exclusively are their hopes set (Ps. xlii. 5); it is but seldom that they do look up to Him, and hence their faith is imperfect and intermittent. It remains in the power of their foes to distress them; anxieties as to their temporal necessities, and forebodings as to their external welfare, harass and weaken them. (For other reasons, see preceding outlines.)

But there are those who have passed through and beyond these elementary stages of Christian experience, and, steadily pursuing the paths of righteousness, they have “perfect peace.” Their circumstances may be adverse and threatening, but they possess a tranquillity of soul that is undisturbable (2 Cor. iv. 8–10); nay, is even triumphant (Rom. v. 3; Acts xvi. 25; Hab. iii. 17–19).

V. In this “perfect peace” these rare souls rest, because they are kept in it, by God Himself: “Thou wilt keep,” &c.

1. How? (1.) By the means of the deliverances which from time to time He works for them. Memory becomes a treasury-house of Divine faithfulness and mercy, and out of it their souls are fed and sustained when a season of famine and danger has befallen them. Then they know that He who has delivered will deliver, and they wait upon Him with calm, joyful expectation. (2.) To these souls the records of God’s deliverances of His people in ancient days become prophetic of deliverances He will still work for His people right on to the end of time. By His Spirit He works in them an immovable, soul-inspiring confidence in His own unchangeableness. To them He is “the living God,” acting to-day precisely as He did in the days of old. (3.) But, above all, He produces in their souls, as the chief safeguard of their tranquillity, a childlike confidence in His personal love for them. There is nothing they are so sure of as that God loves them, and being sure of this, all the rest follows as a matter of course. They never forget what proof God has given of His love for them, and hence they reason precisely as St. Paul did (Rom. viii. 31–39). This priceless revelation He makes to many who are “babes” in this world’s wisdom (Matt. xi. 25), and to others also who know all that science has to teach them of the vastness of the universe and of their own relative insignificance.

2. Why? (1.) Because it is a state of soul in which He delights. “The God of peace” desires that in this, as in all respects, His people—His children—should be like Him. (2.) Because they trust in Him. Devoting themselves to His service, and putting themselves into His care, His honour is pledged to the defence and maintenance of their welfare. Will he forfeit it? Men are far gone in depravity when they willingly disappoint those who trust in them: guides of the blind, lawyers and their clients, doctors and their patients, widows and their business advisors.[3] What sacrifices we make to fulfil the expectations we have encouraged our children to form! Will it be otherwise with our Father in heaven? Never!

VI. What then? 1. “Trust ye in the Lord for ever, for in the Lord Jehovah is everlasting strength.” There is more than “strength;” but there is the “strength to carry out His wise and loving purposes towards His people.” He can do more than pity. 2. Let us cultivate the habit of trusting in the Lord, and of doing this in all the vicissitudes of our lot, “for ever.” 3. And that this habit may become to us invariable and its exercise easy, let us accept with all simplicity the revelation which He has been pleased to make of Himself as our Father in heaven. Precisely in proportion as we do this we shall stay our mind on Him, and we shall enter into that “perfect peace” which He desires should be the inheritance of all His children.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Can we turn aside and see what light this peace of God can diffuse through the chamber of disease; how it can tranquilise the bosom of the poor widow surrounded with her helpless babes; what serenity it can shed around the tottering steps of some aged saint; and how it can irradiate the gloom even of the grave itself, and not feel that it is rightly called “perfect?” True, it might often be more folly possessed on earth, and it will be more fully possessed in heaven. But if we remember what it has actually done in ten thousand instances, when the dearest friends have died, and property has taken wings and flown away, and one pall of sadness has seemed to overspread the entire world, we shall feel that it is impossible to give it too high a name or attach to it too high a value.—Magie.

[2] In the darkest period of the American civil war, as Mr. George William Curtis was taking leave of President Lincoln, the President placed his hand on his shoulder, and said with deep feeling: “Don’t fear, my son; we shall beat them.”

[3] Sir William Napier describes, in his “History of the Peninsular War,” that at the battle of Busaco in Portugal how affecting it was to see a beautiful Portuguese orphan girl coming down the mountain, driving an ass loaded with all her property through the midst of the armies. She passed over the field of battle with a childish simplicity, scarcely understanding which were French and which were English, and no one on either side was so hard-hearted as to touch her. Sir William Napier once in his walks met with a little girl of five years old, sobbing over a pitcher she had broken. She, in her innocence, asked him to mend it. He told her that he could not mend it, but that he would meet her trouble by giving her sixpence to buy a new one, if she would meet him there at the same hour the next evening, as he had no money in his purse that day. When he returned home he found that there was an invitation waiting for him, which he particularly wished to accept. But he could not then have met the little girl at the time stated, and he gave up the invitation, saying, “I could not disappoint her; she trusted in me so implicitly.” That was the true Christian English gentleman and soldier.—Dean Stanley.

 

The Righteousness of God and His People.

xxvi. 7. The way of the just, &c.

Isaiah foretold the captivity of Judah to Babylon, also its termination. This chapter is a song ready for the occasion. It related the story, and it unfolds the principles that underlie the events.

Our text is thoroughly practical. It reminds us—

I. That righteousness is the personal characteristic of God and of His redeemed people. 1. God is righteous. “Thou most upright.” He is perfectly righteous. It is essential to the Divine nature; the contrary cannot be supposed; as heat is natural to fire. God Himself, His laws, His providential government, even His redeeming mercy, all are characterised by perfect rectitude. So prominent is this idea that we are taught to exercise simple faith in God, and assume that we are imperfectly informed if we are unable to reconcile anything in our experience with His perfect righteousness. 2. His people also are righteous—here called “the just.” It is suggestive when God’s people are thus called by a name similar to His own. They share in the same righteousness, although in different degrees. More is intended than that they are in a justified state. That is implied. They are justified by the grace of God through faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. But the text refers to the righteousness which assimilates them to the Divine nature. The grace of God produces a new nature. Saul of Tarsus became a new man on his conversion. A savage adopts the habits and forms the tastes of civilised Christian life. It is a new nature. 1 John iv. 4: “Ye are of God.” As children partake the nature of their parents, His nature is in them, though not yet perfected. Their sympathies are with Him. In so far as they are unrighteous, they are inconsistent with their true selves. The life of God in the regenerated soul is a principle ever tending toward the perfect righteousness of the Divine nature from which it comes.

II. When righteousness characterises a person, it will dictate his conduct. 1. The conduct of the righteous man. “The way of the just is uprightness;” his course of life. He is erect in his moral manhood, as contrasted with one who is bent and crooked. Men’s ideas of uprightness are apt to become partial and one-sided. Some seem to imagine that all demands of righteousness are met by the acceptance of Christ and the experience of spiritual feeling, while they overlook the demands of human relationships. Others confine their view to men. They imagine all demands are met, when they are fair and honourable in their dealings with men, while God is left out of consideration. The Divine idea of righteousness is not thus partial. It takes in the whole of our moral relations our relations both to God and an. And the good man strives to bring his whole life into conformity to it. [Work this out in detail: “The way of the just is uprightness” (1), in regard to God; (2), in regard to man.]

2. The conduct of the righteous God. “Thou most upright dost weigh the path of the just.” At first sight like confusion of metaphor. It means to ponder it. The heathen symbol of Divine righteousness is that of justice holding the scales (Dan. v. 27). The conduct of the righteous is weighed. God observes it; His honour is concerned in it. He will eventually pronounce upon it (2 Cor. v. 10).

Examine, then:—1. Are you among the just? Have you experienced a change of heart? 2. Are you pursuing the path of the just? This applies to your actual dealing with God and with man. Consider how far imperfection may be consistent with reality. Do not try how far you may go safely. There comes a point at which a man must be condemned, at which he must condemn himself. At that point he will either repent or harden himself. Let us cultivate the highest measure of practical uprightness.—J. Rawlinson.

 

The Just Man’s Security.

xxvi. 7. Thou most upright, dost weigh the path of the just.

We can scarcely find anywhere a more touching description of the God of our salvation than that furnished by Job (Job xxxv. 10). God has always given His people songs in the night, and in the night-time of affliction He has furnished them with songs of consolation and confidence. Our text is a part of one of those songs. The Chaldean power threatened God’s people. They were instructed to cherish a firm faith in God. Not a breath of despair was to reach the camp of the enemy; rather they were taught a scornful defiance of that proud king who had defied the armies of the living God (Isa. xxxvii. 22).

“In that day shall this song be sung.” The connection may teach us that it is wisdom to treasure up a source of consolation against the day of adversity. It is in spring that we are to prepare for winter; in the morning of life to prepare for old age. The oil must be ready for the midnight hour. No good soldier will run for his armour “when the enemy comes in like a flood.”

The text suggests the Christian’s reasons for security and repose under the various events of life. These are—

I. The perfect wisdom and rectitude which marks God’s universal government. “Thou most upright, dost weigh,” &c. This world is not a neglected province of the Divine Dominions. That impression of the Divine supremacy which inspires the songs of seraphs quickens the joy of frail humanity. While thrones, principalities, and powers exclaim as with the voice of many waters, “Alleluia, for the Lord God Omnipotent reigneth,” the inhabitants of the earth roll back the response, “The Lord reigneth: let the earth rejoice.”

The Christian knows no such Deity as Chance or Fate. This is God’s world, nor has He left it like an ocean weed to float at random on the dark and shoreless ocean of uncertainty. What was worthy His creation must be worth His control. God’s method of government partakes of His own perfections, and is therefore infinitely wise and good. We rejoice that God ruleth over all, and keeps the dominion of the world in His own hands. The remotest consequences of things are all seen by Him; whatever evil occurs He permits; whatever good arises He originates; whatever series of causes come to a final issue, the train was laid by His wisdom, conducted by His power, controlled by His goodness. The topic, therefore, furnishes a ground of security and repose to the Christian. Amidst the shakings of the nations and the storms of life, it is delightful to know that the sceptre of universal power is in the hand of Infinite Love. He reigneth, be the earth ever so unquiet.

II. The minute attention which God pays to the individual interests of His people. This comes out whichever interpretation you put upon the word here translated “weigh.” It may mean, to weigh as in scales or a balance (Ps. lviii. 2); but it may also mean, and does usually, to make straight, or smooth, or level (Ps. lxxviii. 50, “He leveled a path for his anger,” [NAS], &c.) (Barnes). “He ‘weighs’ or ‘ponders’ (s. w. a. in Prov. iv. 26, v. 21) the path, with a view to keeping it straight and level” (Kay). 1. The idea of “weighing” implies careful impression. The balance is held with a careful hand, and a keen eye is on both the scales. This is a source of comfort to the just, and to them alone. 2. The same minute, condescending observance is implied in the other interpretation. God will make a plain, level way for His people to walk in. All obstacles to their progress shall be removed. They never have any need to turn aside from the well-constructed road of God’s commandments into “crooked ways” of man’s devising (Ps. xvii. 3–5). They shall reach their destination in the better world.—Samuel Thodey.

 

The Way of God’s Judgments.

xxvi. 8. Yea, in the way of Thy judgments, O Lord, have we waited for Thee.

I. Observe what God’s judgments are. They are simply the expression of His thoughts. His final judgment is the declaration of His thoughts of a man’s character; His judgments here are also His declaration of what He thinks of our conduct and ways. One special thing for which psalmists and prophets adore Him is that men can see that His judgments are true and righteous (Ps. xix. 9; cxix. 75, &c.) Their tendency and aim is to teach men what righteousness is (ver. 9).

II. The way of God’s judgments is the way of His laws. The calamities which men call “judgments” are generally the results of infraction by them of the laws by which He governs the universe.

The civil war in America was a judgment of God because it was a natural result of their toleration and defence of slavery; the war, with all its terrors, was a heavy penalty, and was clearly connected with their sin. So the cattle-plague of England was doubtless a natural result of some violation, through carelessness or greed, of God’s laws concerning the breeding and tending of cattle, and was thus one of God’s judgments.

III. The way of God’s judgments prescribes our way of prayer and expectation. We are to pray and expect, not that, while we continue as we were, God will remove the judgment; but that He will help us to understand it, and that He will dispose us to abandon the conduct that has brought it upon us. In thus waiting upon God—with penitence for our transgression, with prayer for light, and with sincere resolve to amend—we may expect God to bless us; but this we may expect only while we wait upon Him thus.—Alexander Mackennal, B.S.: Sermon on the Cattle-plague.

Those who wait for God in the way of His judgments are, 1. Those who in prosperous and peaceful times endeavour to serve Him. 2. Those who desire to learn from them the lessons they were designed to teach. 3. Those who honour God by submission and trust in the trying hour. 4. These, even in the midst of judgment, may confidently expect the favour of God. A purpose of benevolence runs through even the stern and “strange work” of justice; and God, even when He chastises, will not utterly smite down the trusting heart.—William Manning.

 

Trust and Trials.

xxvi. 8, 9. Yea, in the way of Thy judgments . . . will I seek Thee early.

In this verse the prophet expresses the confiding trust of God’s people amid times of judgment. It is as though they had said, “When the pathway assigned for Thy people was rough with judgments,—sore inflictions of national calamity,—even then, Lord, did we wait still on Thee in patient, trustful hope, and our desire was toward the remembrance of Thy name.” Note the view this passage affords of the character and experience of God’s people.

I. They wait upon him. Wait in the most unpromising circumstances.

“Yea, in the way of Thy judgments have we waited for Thee.” When all is dark and threatening; when the promised mercy is long delayed and all seems settling into gloom and desolation; when the dungeon has no lamp and the night no star, even then does the Church wait for God (chap. viii. 17). It is a genuine mark of grace to trust a withdrawing God and never forego confidence in Him, but look for Him as in the darkest night the shivering sentinel looks for the morning star; as the husbandman amid the severest winter believes in the returning spring. Such was the faith of Habakkuk (Hab. iii. 17–19). So, like Aaron’s rod, the Christian’s hope will bloom in the midst of barrenness. “Yea, in the way of Thy judgments have I waited for Thee.”

II. Their desires centre in Him. “The desire of our soul is to the remembrance of Thy name.” God’s name is a compendious expression for the fulness of His perfections. God’s people are concerned for the honour of God’s name whatever becomes of their own. Religion consists much in holy desire. “Thy servants who desire to fear Thy name.” They desire to live in the fear of God, in His love and in His service. Desire is love on the wing; delight is love at rest. David combines both (Ps. xxxvii. 4). Making God our heart’s delight, He will not fail to give us our heart’s desire. This desire, if genuine, will never be satisfied without God. As well offer lumps of gold or strains of music to one dying of thirst, as offer the world’s best gifts to that soul which truly thirsts for God and His righteousness (Ps. lxxiii. 25). 1. Where genuine, this desire is the fruit of implanted grace. It is an evidence of a renewed nature. The beating of the pulse proves life. That which aspires to God has come from heaven. If the iron, contrary to its nature, moves upward, it is a sign that some magnetic force attracts it; and if the soul aspires to God, that is a sign that the grace of God has visited that soul. 2. Genuine desires after God are influential. Real desires govern our conduct (Prov. xxi. 25). It is useless to pretend that we thirst for grace, if by devout prayer and holy resolve we do not let down the bucket into the well.

III. They seek Him diligently night and day. “With my soul have I desired Thee in the night, yea, with my spirit within me will I seek Thee early.” Our Lord gives it as the distinctive mark of God’s elect that they cry night and day to Him. This habit of prayer prompting to duty, tests the sincerity of our desires, &c.—Samuel Thodey.

 

Night Longings for God.

xxvi. 9. With my soul I desired thee in the night.

Night appears to be a time peculiarly favourable to devotion. Its solemn stillness helps to free the mind from that perpetual din which the cares of the world will bring around it; and the stars looking down from heaven upon us shine as if they would attract us up to God. But I leave that thought altogether; I shall speak,—

I. To Confirmed Christians. 1. The Christian man has not always a bright shining sun; he has seasons of darkness and night. The light is sometimes eclipsed. At certain periods clouds and darkness cover the sun. The best of God’s saints have their nights. Sometimes it is a night over the whole Church at once. Sometimes the darkness over the soul arises from temporal distresses, sometimes from spiritual discouragements. 2. A Christian man’s religion will keep its colour in the night. Men will follow Christ when every one cries Hosanna! Demas and Mr. Hold-the-world, and a great many others, are very pious people in easy times. They will always go with Christ by daylight, and will keep Him company so long as fashion gives religion the doubtful benefit of its patronage; but they will not go with Him in the night. But the best test of a Christian is the night. If he only remained steadfast by daylight, when every coward is bold, where would he be? There would be no beauty in his courage, no glory in his bravery. There is full many a Christian whose piety did not burn much when he was in prosperity; but it will be known in adversity. Grind the diamond a little, and you shall see it glisten. 3. All that the Christian wants in the night is his God. I cannot understand how it is, unless it is to be accounted for by the corruption of our spirit, that when everything goes well with us we are setting our affection first on one object and then on another, and that desire which is as insatiable as death and as deep as hell never rests satisfied. But if you place a Christian in trouble, you will find that he does not want gold then, nor carnal honour; he wants his God. 4. There are times when all the saint can do is to desire. The more evidences a man has of his piety the better. Many witnesses will carry our case better at the bar than a few. But there are seasons when a Christian cannot get any. He will have lost assurance. But there is one witness that very seldom is gagged, even in the night, and that is, “I have desired Thee—I have desired Thee in the night.”

II. To Newly Awakened Souls. I will now endeavour to answer three questions. 1. How am I to know that my desires are proofs of a work of grace in my soul? (1.) By their constancy. Many a man when he hears a stirring sermon has a strong desire to be saved, but he goes home and forgets it. A certain measure of constancy is essential to its real value as evidence of a Divine work. (2.) By their efficacy. If they lead you into real “works meet for repentance,” then they come from God. Seeking will not do; there must be striving. Not good intentions only, but practical desires that lead you to give up your sins. (3.) By their urgency. You want to be saved some of you, but it must be this day next week. But when the Holy Ghost speak, He says “To-day.” Now or never. 2. If I have desired God, why have I not obtained my desires before now? (1.) You have hardly a right to ask the question. Perhaps God has not granted your desire because He designs to show you more of your wickedness, more of the blackness of sin, that your longings may be quickened, that He may display more fully the riches of His grace at the last. (2.) Perhaps it has come already. Some of you are pardoned and do not know it. Do not expect miracles and visions. (3.) Will God grant my desire at last? Verily. His refusal would dishonour His word. You would be the first that ever perished desiring, praying, trusting in Jesus.—C. H. Spurgeon, New Park Street Pulpit, 1859, p. 237.

 

The Necessity and Profitableness of Chastisement.

xxvi. 9. When Thy judgments are in the earth, the inhabitants of the earth will learn righteousness.

I. It is a lamentable proof of the depravity of our nature, that in general, apart from God’s judgments, the wicked will not learn righteousness. 1. The history of the world shows that men will not give heed to the lessons they ought to learn from the beauty of creation, the established laws of nature, and the ordinary blessings of Providence (Rom. i. 20–23). Extraordinary blessings excite only transient emotions of praise and thanksgiving; and too often serve only as occasions for showing greater alienation of heart from God, and for filling up the measure of iniquity (H. E. I., 3997–4014). 2. All this may be abundantly illustrated from the history of our own country. With us times of national prosperity have been times of national profanity. 3. On every hand we find individual proofs of the same sad fact.

II. When such special interferences of Providence take place as in Scripture language are called “judgments,” the inhabitants of the earth sometimes learn righteousness. In this respect, signal chastisements are ordinarily more effective than the most bountiful displays of kindness and compassion. 1. Scripture abounds with statements of the need and profitableness of chastisement (Ps. cxix. 67, 71; 2 Chron. xxxiii. 12, &c.) It is intimated that afflictions form an essential part of the discipline of the righteous (Ps. xxxiv. 19; Rev. iii. 19, &c.) Some cross is needful, as long as we live, to keep us in our right place, dependent on our Maker; and hence those who have few outward afflictions to teach them the necessary lessons of humility, generally experience a large allotment of inward trials on that very account; and sometimes both the outward and the inward afflictions are combined for this purpose (2 Cor. xii. 7, 10). 2. Even without the Bible, the fact asserted in our text was so universal and prominent, that it by no means escaped the wiser part of the heathen moralists. A Greek historian has observed, “that fortune never bestows liberally an unmixed happiness on mankind. With all her gifts, there is conjoined some disastrous circumstance, in order to chastise men into a reverence for the gods, whom, in a continual course of prosperity, they are apt to neglect and forget.”

Conclusion.—1. Few things are more perilous than long-continued prosperity.—Ordinarily its effects on the religious opinions and moral habits of nations and individuals are most lamentable (Deut. xxxi. 20, 29). Let those, then, who are prosperous be especially on their guard (Deut. viii. 10, 11). 2. For “judgments” we should be thankful. They are not displays of vindictiveness, but gracious and compassionate dispensations, intended to warn, that God may not be compelled to destroy. 3. To the lessons of God’s “judgments” we should give heed. Prominent among them is this, that “except the Lord keep the city, the watchman waketh but in vain.”—Isaac Milner, D.D.: Sermons, vol. i. pp. 1–54.

I. Consider the Author of those judgments and calamities with which they are visited; the ends for which they are sent; and their fitness to instruct us in righteousness.—1. Judgments come from God. His providence rules over all, and all second causes, animate and inanimate, are directed and overruled by Him. This is the decision of reason, and the declaration of revelation (Amos iii. 6; Isa. xlv. 6, 7). Imitate, then, the ancient believers who, whatever were the inferior causes of their affliction, without justifying the instruments, and leaving to God the punishment of the unrighteous, ever looked up to Him who ruleth over all (Gen. xlv. 5, 7; Job i. 21; H. E. I., 139). 2. But why does God visit us with judgments? Not that He delights in the miseries of His creatures (Lam. iii. 33); but that they may be humbled, convinced of their iniquity, and taught righteousness. We often compel Him thus to deal with us. We permit His favours to hide the hand that confers them; and, like Jonah, when the ocean of life is smooth, and the gales of prosperity pleasantly blow, we flee from Him, and slumber in our sin. In the greatness of His compassion, He employs the rough means necessary to arouse us (Ps. lxxviii. 34, 35). 3. There is a fitness in judgments to cause men to awake to righteousness. (1.) They deeply affect us, and lead us to repentance, because they are rarer than mercies. Our attention is most arrested by that which is novel. We gaze more earnestly on the sun, when for a few moments it is in eclipse, than we have done for months while it was steadily pursuing its course through the heavens. We are more roused by a storm for a day, than by serene weeks. It is thus with mercies and judgments. (2.) They powerfully address that passion which has most influence on the greater part of mankind—the passion of fear. They present God in such a character, that even the most stout-hearted sinners tremble to oppose Him. (3.) Because they teach on that most compendious and efficacious mode—by example. On beholding them we feel that the threatenings of God are not a dead letter which need fill us with no dismay. Yet they have not invariably this effect. There are some who can resist judgments as well as mercies (2 Chron. xxviii. 22; Isa. xxii. 12, 13).

II. Why the judgments of God do not always teach men righteousness. Judgments that light upon others are frequently rendered useless. 1. By disbelief of His declarations. 2. By false views of His character (H. E. I., 2180–2184, 2282). 3. By unscriptural views of our own state and condition. 4. By a base inattention to the operations of Providence. 5. By a stupid insensibility to our danger. We tranquilly behold the lightning flashing at a distance, and suppose that it will not hurt us, as though we were of a different nature from those who are consumed by it (Zeph. iii. 6, 7). 6. Because, instead of being humbled and led to think of our sins, we vent our grief only in vain regrets and useless lamentations. We forget who is the Author of these judgments, and so, instead of humbly saying with Job, “Shew me, wherefore Thou contendest with me,” we waste our strength in profitless complaints of men and things.—Henry Kollock, D.D., Sermons, pp. 505–512.

 

The Use and Abuse of the Judgments of God.

xxvi. 9, 10. For when Thy judgments, &c.

I. The judgments of God are frequently in the earth—such as earthquakes, hurricanes, pestilence, commercial disasters. These are not, as the infidel asserts, merely the results of the working of natural causes: these public calamities are the punishment of public sins. Nations are thus punished, because they have no immortality, and therefore, if they are to be judged at all, must be judged here and now. Without these chastisements, which often astonish the hearts of the most insensible, and bring the most incredulous to their right mind, the world would be only a theatre of atheism and crime. That these calamites are strictly “the judgments of God,” is the testimony of Scripture (Amos iii. 6; Jer. xxxii. 23, &c.), of the universal conscience, which appeals loudly in terms of calamity,[1] and of reason. Acknowledge a First Cause which directs all things, and we are obliged to confess that public calamities are the judgments of God.

II. God’s design in sending His judgments upon the earth is that the inhabitants thereof should learn righteousness—righteousness towards Him, towards their neighbours, and towards themselves. This is His design, and to comply with it is the indispensable duty of those who He afflicts.[2] The natural tendency of these chastisements is to remove the obstacles that ordinarily oppose themselves to our conversion: indolence, thoughtlessness, abuse of God’s patience, the hope of long life.[3]

III. God’s design in sending judgments upon the earth is often frustrated by the fact that some sinners are so obdurate that neither judgments nor mercies will move them (v. 10). The “favour” here spoken of is a temporal favour, a deliverance from physical misery, a suspension of the judgments which were falling upon the wicked. Such favours, instead of calling forth gratitude, are frequently turned into reasons for sinning (Eccl. viii. 11; Ex. viii. 15). To harden ourselves against the “judgments” of God is a great sin, but to harden ourselves against His “favours” is a still greater sin. Those who commit it leave the Almighty no alternative but to utterly destroy them.—Daniel de Superville: Sermons, pp. 332–361.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] We see that people of every description endeavour to appease Heaven, in time of public calamities, by prayers, incense, sacrifices, and solemn humiliations. And though many of them have been deceived in the object of their worship, and have erred in many of the practises which they adopted as proper to appease the Divinity, their actions set forth the feelings of man’s conscience, and prove that it is a general sentiment, that in public calamities we ought to learn righteousness.—Superville.

[2] Judgment that falls upon another should be as a catechism to us by way of instruction; when judgments are abroad in the world, shall not the people learn righteousness? Shall the lion roar and the beasts of the field not tremble? Shall God’s hand lie heavily upon us, and we stand by, as idle spectators, nothing at all minding what is done? Shall our very next neighbour’s house be on fire, and we look on as men unconcerned in the danger? It cannot be, it must not be. There is, without all doubt, the same combustible stuff—the same, if not greater sins—lodged in our hearts, and the same punishment hovering over our heads; it is, therefore, high time to look about us.—Donne, 1573–1631.

[3] Herodotus informs us, that in a certain temple of Egypt there was a statue of Sennacherib with an inscription, the sense of which was, “Learn to fear the Deity, in looking at me.” The judgments of God upon rebellious sinners are monuments which God erects in the world, and which express, in characters which all men should read, “Learn to fear the Deity, in looking at us.” A celebrated poet among the ancient Romans, in describing the divers punishments of hell, presents us with a fine sentence, “Learn righteousness by us, and do not despise the gods.” It appears by this, that the secrets of man’s conscience, and his natural sentiments, lead him to profit by the examples which God exhibits of His justice, whether in this world or the next, and to respect a Supreme Being who knows how to avenge Himself, both now and hereafter.—Superville.

 

National Peace the Gift of God.

(A Thanksgiving Sermon.)

xxvi. 12. Lord, Thou wilt ordain peace for us: for Thou hast wrought all our work in us.

The joyfulness of the occasion. Peace a greater blessing than mere victory; for he that celebrates victory celebrates an event which has been produced by an incalculable measure of human suffering. Let us consider—

I. What there is in the restoration of peace, generally considered, to excite our gratitude. 1. The effusion of human blood is stayed, and all the suffering inescapable from war. 2. The injurious effects of war on human character afford another reason for thanksgiving on the return of peace. War renders men callous to human misery. The sacredness of human life is forgotten. Wars lead to intestine dissensions, and embitter and perpetuate national animosities.

II. What there is in the particular circumstances of this country to warrant us in considering the blessing as of special and particular value. 1. The triumph of which this peace is the result is the triumph of a righteous cause. Peace is often the result of the superiority acquired by the aggressor. The cause of right does not always at once prevail. Unoffending natives are conquered, or obliged to submissions contrary to their rights and interests, and then peace follows; peace dictated, not argued. There is peace, but not the spirit of peace. 2. We have preserved our national honour. Our victory has not been purchased by any alliance of which we have cause to be ashamed. 3. Peace does not find us, as it finds many nations, with our houses desolated and our cities destroyed by fire. 4. It was seasonable. We had put forth our utmost strength. Had we not succeeded at the moment we should have fallen to rise no more as a nation of the first order. 5. It may be considered an indication of the Divine approbation. On this subject we would not be presumptuous, but it may at least be affirmed that the happy change in our affairs, which has ultimately led to peace, followed, and, in some instances, immediately followed, certain acts of national reformation (e.g., the emancipation of the slaves) and acknowledgement of God which, from the condescending assurance of His Word, we know must have been acceptable to Him. 6. It will increase our means of promoting the kingdom of Christ in the world, and thus establish our national prosperity by continuing to us the blessing of God.

III. The reasons of our thankful acknowledgement of God on this occasion. He is the giver of the blessing of peace. Text. This is a most important principle, and if our hearts be not firmly grounded in it, our thanksgiving is a mockery; for why do we thank Him if we ascribe the work to second causes? He that excludes God from the world of providence might as well exclude Him from the world of nature. He who can attribute the events which are daily taking place in society, and especially such events as are connected with the celebration of this day, to mere human agency, is not less an atheist than the man who ascribes the birth and being of the fair system of the universe to chance or the dance of atoms.

Conclusion.—The proper expression of our thankfulness for this great blessing will be to do our utmost in the diffusion of the Gospel, that the final reign of the Prince of Peace may commence, and “quietness and assurance for ever” becomes the lot of man.—Richard Watson: Works, vol. ii. pp. 20–40.

 

Holiness Accomplished, Peace Ordained.

xxvi. 12. Lord, Thou wilt ordain peace for us: for Thou also hast wrought all our works in us.

Rather, “for us.” The Church acknowledges that all her deliverances and successes have been accomplished for her; and on what God has done for her in the past, she rightly bases her expectation as to what God will do for her in the future. He who was able to deliver His people from their bondage in Babylon, would secure peace for them when He had restored them to their own land. But, then, of all the works that God accomplishes for His people, some of the most important are precisely those which He accomplishes in them. So we may profitably meditate on our text as it stands:

I. The Christian’s condition.

1. A Divine work has been accomplished for him. “Thou,” &c. Throughout, the New Testament teaches us that the Christian is a man, not who has delivered himself, but who has been delivered; not a hero who broke the chains by which he was bound, but a poor slave of sin who was set free and uplifted to true manhood (Phil. ii. 13; Eph. ii. 10); everything is ascribed to the Spirit—the life, the good works, the comforts of the Christian (John iii. 5; Gal. v. 16, 22; Acts ix. 31). 2. As the operation is Divine, so is it internal in its effects. We should never overlook what God has done for us in His kind and tender providence (Ps. xxiii. 6). But the greatest of all God’s works for us is redemption by the blood of the cross. This was accomplished long ago (John xix. 30). Nothing can now be added to it, but you are mistaken if you suppose that His work for you is to supersede His work in you. If your sins are not subdued as well as pardoned, you will never be able to serve and enjoy God. Unless you have a meetness for heaven, as well as a title for it, you will never be at home there. The salvation that is promised and accomplished is internal (John iv. 14; Ezek. xi. 19, 20; Ps. li. 10). 3. The operation is manifold in its influence.All our works.” How much needs to be done in man! Conscience is to be awakened, purified, pacified; the understanding is to be enlightened; the judgment is to be informed; the will is to be subdued; the affections to be spiritualised; the world is to be dethroned in the heart, and holy principles implanted there. There needs the continuing act of a performing God from the hour of the first conviction of sin to the resurrection of the body unto eternal life (Phil. i. 6). 4. His Divine work is acknowledged. “Thou hast wrought,” &c. Much remains to be done in us, but much has been accomplished in every believer, and it should be acknowledged. Humility well becomes us, but gratitude becomes us equally (Ps. lxvi. 16).

II. His future expectation.

“Lord, Thou wilt ordain peace for us.” 1. There is an appointment or ordination. To ordain is an act of authority and power. You may wish and promise a thing, but the monarch ordains, and what he ordains is supported by all the resources of the realm, and will be accomplished. Much more shall God’s counsel stand and His pleasure be done. 2. What is the blessing He will ordain? “Peace!” Peace temporal (Prov. xvi. 7). Peace spiritual.[1]

III. The dependence of the expectation on the condition.

“Thou wilt . . . for Thou hast.” The expectations of God’s people are based—1. On the experience of God’s people in all generations (Ps. xxii. 4). 2. On their own experience of His faithfulness and mercy (Ps. cxvi. 1, 2).[2]William Jay: Sunday Evening Sermons, &c., pp. 306–312.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] See outlines on verse 3.—This peace of the Christian often fluctuates. It has various degrees. Some have comparatively little of it, arising from constitutional malady, but it commonly increases in death. It is therefore compared to a river which meanders and fertilises as it goes, but becomes wider and deeper as it approximates to the sea; so the peace of God’s people generally increases as they get nearer eternity.—Jay.

[2] When a friend has always been kind, we think it base and unworthy not to suppose that he is ready to succour and help. But here we have the advantage: Men may be weak and unable to help, but God is almighty; men may change their mind, but with Him is “no shadow of turning.” Remember what God has done, view it as a pledge, a beginning, an earnest foretaste of what He will do. Has He not shown you the evil of sin, the beauty of holiness, and the preciousness of a Saviour? If He had a mind to destroy you, would He have shown you such things as these? Nay, He will ordain everything for your welfare.—Jay.

H. E. I., 2363–2377, 2791.

 

Man’s Holiness, God’s Workmanship.

xxvi. 12. Thou also hast wrought all our works in us.

It is not all men who could speak these words to God; the wicked and the worldly-minded could not use such language without blasphemy. It is the godly, and they only, who can dare to use the language of our text, and even they must do so with a certain limitation. Nothing that is evil in any of God’s people is in any way His work. It is only their good works of which it can be truly said, “God wrought them;” and of these it may be said, God wrought not some only, but all of them.

I. The doctrine which our text contains. Man is by nature a creature so depraved that he is “unto every good work reprobate.” God looks into his heart, and seeing evil motives even in his best performances pronounces “all his righteousnesses ‘filthy rags.’ ” Where things are not done to please God, He is displeased. No matter what show the unregenerate make before their fellow-sinners, God turns away His face from them, and counts them even “dead in trespasses and sins,” whilst men, perhaps, are holding them in admiration (Article xiii.; Luke xvi. 15; Rom. viii. 7, 8). When, therefore, a man does begin to please God, it is because God hath “wrought him for this self-same thing” by the mighty working of His power (Eph. ii. 4, 5; Phil. ii. 13). In these passages the earliest beginning of any good work in us is ascribed wholly to the Lord (Article x.) The Holy Spirit is the author of all good in man from first to last. “From Him all holy desires, all good counsels, and all just works do proceed.” Repentance is His Work. “Godly sorrow” is no natural emotion (Acts v. 31; xi. 18; 2 Tim. ii. 25). So also is faith (1 Cor. xii. 3). So, again, is all holiness of heart and life (Eph. ii. 10; Prov. xvi. 1; Gal. v. 22, 23). All excellences in man are “fruits of the Spirit.” Such is the doctrine of our text. Consider,—

II. The feelings which God’s people ought to entertain when they reflect upon it. Is it true that God hath wrought all our works in us? What a ground there is here, then,—1. For humility. Surely “boasting is excluded.” Pride is an absurdity (1 Cor. iv. 7; xv. 10.) 2. For thankfulness. Solomon was full of wonder and amazement that God should condescend to come and dwell within his costly temple. Should not the Lord’s people be still more gratefully amazed that He should make a temple of their hearts? 3. For encouragement (Phil. i. 6). Let the believer look at the very construction of our text, let him read it in connection with the words which go before, and he will see what a comfortable argument is drawn from it: “Lord, Thou wilt ordain peace for us, for Thou also hast wrought all our works in us.” The presence of His grace within our bosoms is a token of the favour which He means to show us. He who put oil into our lamp and set it burning, and then said, “Let your light shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven,” will never omit to feed the celestial flame.—A. Roberts, M.A.: Plain Sermons, Second Series, vol. i., 21–30.

 

Spiritual Usurpers Renounced.

xxvi. 13, 14. O Lord our God, other lords beside Thee have had dominion over us, &c.

We have in this language—

I. A penitential confession. “Other lords,” &c. Exegetically the point to be determined is whether the “other lords” who “have ruled over us,” are the king and people of Babylon or idol gods; the former with coercion, the latter with their own wicked consent? Perhaps both ideas are included and a sad sequence implied. They had wandered of their own wicked will into the service of pagan gods, and now against their will were forced to serve pagan kings. Paganism had led to vice; vice had destroyed all true manliness. Heroism in Jewish history had lived only so long as fidelity to Jehovah had lasted. Piety having decayed, heroism was dead; they could not stand before their invaders. Paganism had enslaved them. This they now feel, and hate paganism, and shun it more thoroughly than ever before.

II. A holy resolve, involving, 1. A recognition of Divine claims. It is right that we should consecrate our services to Thee. By Thee created and sustained, it is robbery to carry our services elsewhere. Thou art our Father, and to honour others instead of Thee is unfilial ingratitude. Our King Thou art, and not to serve Thee is sedition. 2. A consciousness of dependence on Divine help. “But by Thee only,” &c., i.e., “Only by Thy Divine help can we hope to be faithful to Thee.” Here is a renunciation, not only of heathenism, but also of all self-sufficiency. By sad experience they have learnt that without God they can do nothing.

III. A shout of victory (vers. 14). The struggle against sin may be severe and long. Bad habits not easily overcome. But Divine help gives victory to human endeavours. He who uttered the almost despairing cry, “O wretched man that I am,” &c., can now give the victorious shout, ”I thank God through our Lord Jesus Christ.” There are those who once served mammon, and bowed to ambition; who followed the Moloch of revenge and hate; slaves to drunkenness and nameless vices, who now through Divine grace can say of these bad habits, “They are dead . . . Thou hast visited and destroyed them,” &c.—W. Parkes.

Man is a responsible being. To say he is responsible to himself is to say nothing more than that he claims to act according to his own inclination. Responsibility has regard to another. Lordship from without is exercised by every human soul. Good and evil—God and Satan—contend for the dominion. Evil usurps the dominion until an inward revolution occurs. Thus the Jewish people had cast off the authority of Jehovah, and placed themselves under the dominion of other gods. The captivity in Babylon converted them from this folly. They then determined that thenceforward they would only “make mention of,” celebrate and honour, give the dominion to the Lord their God. Here is a penitential confession and a good resolution.

I. A penitential confession. “Other lords beside Thee have had dominion over us.” The dominion of evil in human souls is: 1. Multiform. It assumes many shapes. The gods the Jewish people served were numerous as the nations under whose influence they fell. So the form of evil most congenial to a man’s own nature is sure to assail him (H. E. I., 4679–4683). Not only so; while each has probably his special besetment, each has also multitudinous besetments (H. E. I., 4550, 4551). The penitent sees that his sins pass all power of numeration or recollection; they have become lords and masters (Rom. vi. 16; H. E. I., 4482–4484). 2. Wrongful. “Other lords beside Thee.” The language implies that God ought to have had the dominion. Then it must be wrong to give it to others. He is the rightful sovereign on every ground. Nor can he divide His throne with any rival. As it is impossible to serve two masters whose interests are opposed to each other, or to adhere to two claimants of the same crown, so is it to make mention of the name of God and at the same time to submit to the dominion of other lords. But we have attempted this. “Will a man rob God?” Yes. Men who would not wrong each other will defraud God daily without compunction and without shame. To allow the dominion of other lords is a wrong done to God. 3. Voluntary. It has been entirely with our own consent. Those who make this confession mean that they have been blamable for the wrongful dominion of other lords. Freedom is essential to responsibility. We have consented to sin—loved it. Nor does it avail to say we are unable to break from its power. If unable, what has brought our moral nature in to such a state of imbecility? Are not its chains wound round our nature by our own consent? Is not the wretched victim of intemperance responsible for his inability to resist the cup, when that inability is the result of the voluntary indulgence of years? The fetters of the sinner have been forged by himself. The criminality reaches farther back than the present sin; to the sins freely chosen long ago, which have led up to the present power of sin over the will. If the will is in bondage to sin, it was, in the first instance, voluntarily surrendered. Now the penitent sinner sees all this. He comes with lowly submission and penitential confession.

II. A good resolution. “By Thee only will we make mention of Thy name.” The confession of the ransomed Jews meant more than empty words. They had seen their error; they intended a complete change, a radical reformation. Idolatry was for ever renounced.

This is a type of the conversion of a sinner. The confession means not only that he seeks forgiveness, but also—1. Intends reformation—abandonment of all sin, no reservation of any sin, the course of life completely altered. 2. Supposes regeneration. Man can only see the outward change; but what does it represent? Awakening to the danger, sight of the evil of sin. The disposition is different; the heart is changed. Hence the will determines the other way. 3. Proceeds from God. There is a work of the Holy Spirit in conversion. We need His help to fulfil the resolution. “By Thee only.”

Have you experienced this change? It is a personal one. Whether you have or not, He is the Lord—your Lord; therefore right that He demands your service. O yield His claim!—J. Rawlinson.

 

Prayer in Trouble.

xxvi. 16. “Lord, in trouble,” &c.

Every man knows what trouble is; what it is to lie under the chastening hand of God. In the day of trouble, we feel our dependence on external help. Some in adversity seek friends who they neglect in prosperity. Happy is he who, when trouble comes, finds himself surrounded by true friends. Acquire the art of keeping your friends. But there are troubles to which human sympathy and help are inadequate. Times when men’s thoughts drift towards God. Trouble reminds us of the unseen, the spiritual, the external. It quickens the spiritual sense by casting the fierce light of eternity on the things of time. Men visit God in trouble by pouring out to Him their prayers.

I. Some pray in trouble, who are prayerless at other times. Multitudes live entirely without prayer. Taught by mothers in infancy. For a considerable part of ripening youth they maintained the habit. But began to neglect, were afraid of ridicule, or fell into sinful indulgence; it would appal them to think how long it is since they poured out one prayer to God. Surprising that with God so near, so many should habitually turn away and never seek His face. But some heavy trouble comes. They pause, recollect themselves, remember the long years of misspent time, pray, promise and vow (H. E. I., 69).

Does this always continue when the trouble has departed? Is not this often the history? The cloud breaks, the sun bursts out again, the man forgets that the sun was ever hid. Ship in storm. Cries, prayers, vows. Ship is saved. Prayers cease; revelry is resumed. How often on the bed of sickness are prayers and promises uttered which are forgotten with returning health. Pharaoh alarmed by the successive plagues. Besought Moses to pray. Hardened his heart again. The children of Israel repeatedly fell into idolatry. Visited with judgments. Cried to the Lord. When punishment was withdrawn returned to the sin. Conviction is not conversion; awakening not repentance. If the heart remains unchanged, a man will only pray as long as he is alarmed (H. E. I., 3877–3879).

II. Some begin to pray in trouble, and continue to pray afterwards. Many have had to thank God for trouble. Borne along the stream of prosperity towards destruction. Some obstruction. It was unwelcome. It compelled examination. It revealed the yawning falls a little way beyond. Just in time to return. Every human soul requires one such grand interruption in its career. Grace of God employs various means for its effectuation. Trouble is one (Hosea v. 15). The soul’s deep sin, danger, need, has been revealed. The cry has gone up to heaven. It was the cry of true repentance and humble faith in the Crucified One. Comes from the trouble a new man—a praying man (Manasseh, 2 Chron. xxxiii. 10–13. The prodigal son, Luke xv. 14–21).

III. Some pray habitually, but especially in trouble. Prayer is the special characteristic of a Christian. It is his “vital breath.” He cannot fail to establish stated seasons of prayer, both public and private. He endeavours to maintain the spirit of prayer. By its aid the blood of the spiritual life is kept in circulation. An important sense in which he prays “without ceasing” (H. E. I., 3866–3879; P. D., 2839). And every remarkable event is made the occasion of special prayer. Certainly trouble is one of these. Do you not go to God in your sorrows, as a child goes to his father or his mother? Bishop Reynolds says: “A Godly heart is like those flowers which shut when the sun sets, and open again when the sun returns and shines upon them. Hannah prayed silently so long as she was in bitterness of spirit; but as soon as God answered her prayer and filled her heart with joy, presently her mouth was enlarged into a song of thanksgiving.” In trouble you pray, 1. for deliverance, in submission to the Divine will. 2. More especially for a sanctified use of trouble; complete submission, faith, purification (Phil. iv. 6, 7).—J. Rawlinson.

 

National Revival.

xxvi. 19. Thy dead men shall live.

I. This is the language of exultation.[1] In this part of the chapter the tone changes from sorrow, failure, and abortion to life, prosperity, and joy. “Thy dead, O Zion, shall live again.” Thy people have been virtually, civilly, nationally dead, but they shall have a resurrection. Because these dead are God’s people, their resurrection from national death is certain. Then, thrilled with confidence in this truth, the prophet gives utterance to the voice of God within him, “Awake and sing, ye that lie buried in dust, awake; come forth from your (figurative) graves, and break out in song as ye come up to the light of day!”

II. This expectation involves a contrast. The resurrection of national life of God’s people stands in contrast with the denial of resurrection to the wicked rulers of Babylon (ver. 14). That Chaldean nation went down to its political grave with no hope, no possibility of being raised to national life again. On the contrary, God’s people, from being in a state of national death in Babylon, were eventually called into national life.

III. This declaration suggests a truth which nations ought to learn. No nation that seeks God and His righteousness can be permanently kept down. “Righteousness exalteth a nation;” exalteth it from depression into power. It may be brought low, but if the elements of rectitude lie within it, if public justice be a part of its political creed, and respect for the rights of others its unvarying practice, then, though apparently buried in the grave of defeat and degradation, its resurrection shall come. God rules not only amid the armies of heaven, but amongst the inhabitants of the earth, and to every nation maintaining justice, mercy, and truth, though brought ever so low, the voice of history proclaims, “Thy dead men shall live!” The bodies of English martyrs to the Tudor period perished. Under the Stuart dynasty the bones of those English patriots who defied “crowned and mitred tyranny” were dug up and dishonoured. That part of them corruptible and worthless died, but the better part of them has experienced a resurrection. Their principles live to-day. “Thy dead men shall live.”—Henry Cowles, D.D.