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Jeremiah
Chapter Twelve
Jeremiah 12
Chapter Contents
Jeremiah complains of the prosperity of the wicked. (1-6)
The heavy judgments to come upon the nation. (7-13) Divine mercy to them, and
even to the nations around. (14-17)
Commentary on Jeremiah 12:1-6
(Read Jeremiah 12:1-6)
When we are most in the dark concerning God's
dispensations, we must keep up right thoughts of God, believing that he never
did the least wrong to any of his creatures. When we find it hard to understand
any of his dealings with us, or others, we must look to general truths as our
first principles, and abide by them: the Lord is righteous. The God with whom
we have to do, knows how our hearts are toward him. He knows both the guile of
the hypocrite and the sincerity of the upright. Divine judgments would pull the
wicked out of their pasture as sheep for the slaughter. This fruitful land was
turned into barrenness for the wickedness of those that dwelt therein. The Lord
reproved the prophet. The opposition of the men of Anathoth was not so
formidable as what he must expect from the rulers of Judah. Our grief that
there should be so much evil is often mixed with peevishness on account of the
trials it occasions us. And in this our favoured day, and under our trifling
difficulties, let us consider how we should behave, if called to sufferings
like those of saints in former ages.
Commentary on Jeremiah 12:7-13
(Read Jeremiah 12:7-13)
God's people had been the dearly-beloved of his soul,
precious in his sight, but they acted so, that he gave them up to their
enemies. Many professing churches become like speckled birds, presenting a
mixture of religion and the world, with its vain fashions, pursuits, and
pollutions. God's people are as men wondered at, as a speckled bird; but this
people had by their own folly made themselves so; and the beasts and birds are
called to prey upon them. The whole land would be made desolate. But until the
judgments were actually inflicted, none of the people would lay the warning to
heart. When God's hand is lifted up, and men will not see, they shall be made
to feel. Silver and gold shall not profit in the day of the Lord's anger. And
the efforts of sinners to escape misery, without repentance and works
answerable thereto, will end in confusion.
Commentary on Jeremiah 12:14-17
(Read Jeremiah 12:14-17)
The Lord would plead the cause of his people against
their evil neighbours. Yet he would afterwards show mercy to those nations,
when they should learn true religion. This seems to look forward to the times
when the fulness of the Gentiles shall come in. Those who would have their lot
with God's people, and a last end like theirs, must learn their ways, and walk
in them.
── Matthew Henry《Concise Commentary on Jeremiah》
Jeremiah 12
Verse 1
[1] Righteous art thou, O LORD, when I plead with thee: yet
let me talk with thee of thy judgments: Wherefore doth the way of the wicked
prosper? wherefore are all they happy that deal very treacherously?
Talk with thee — Not by way of accusing thee, but
for my own satisfaction concerning thy judicial dispensations in the government
of the world.
Wherefore — I know thy ways are just and
righteous, but they are dark; I cannot understand why thou doest this.
Verse 2
[2] Thou hast planted them, yea, they have taken root: they
grow, yea, they bring forth fruit: thou art near in their mouth, and far from
their reins.
Far — Thou art far from their inward parts, they neither
fear thee, nor love thee.
Verse 4
[4] How long shall the land mourn, and the herbs of every
field wither, for the wickedness of them that dwell therein? the beasts are
consumed, and the birds; because they said, He shall not see our last end.
He — They were bold to say, neither the prophet nor any
other should see their last end.
Verse 5
[5] If thou hast run with the footmen, and they have wearied
thee, then how canst thou contend with horses? and if in the land of peace,
wherein thou trustedst, they wearied thee, then how wilt thou do in the
swelling of Jordan?
If — If thou art not able to encounter lesser dangers, how
wilt thou be able to overcome greater? I have greater dangers for thee to
encounter than those at Anathoth; if thou art so disturbed with them, how wilt
thou be able to grapple with those at Jerusalem.
Jordan — Anathoth seems to be understood by the land of thy
peace, that is, the land of thy friends wherein thou hadst a confidence: if thy
enemies there tire thee, what wilt thou do in the swellings of Jordan? In a
place in which thou art like to meet with greater troubles, like the swelling
of Jordan (which in harvest used to overflow its banks).
Verse 6
[6] For even thy brethren, and the house of thy father, even
they have dealt treacherously with thee; yea, they have called a multitude
after thee: believe them not, though they speak fair words unto thee.
For even — The men of Anathoth, thine own town and country, and
those of thy own family have conspired evil against thee secretly.
A multitude — They have exposed thee to the
rage of a multitude.
Though — Tho' therefore they give thee fair words, yet repose
no confidence in them.
Verse 7
[7] I have forsaken mine house, I have left mine heritage; I
have given the dearly beloved of my soul into the hand of her enemies.
My house — God by his house here understands the temple.
Heritage — The whole body of the Israelites, whom God threatens
to leave with respect to his special providence.
Verse 8
[8] Mine heritage is unto me as a lion in the forest; it
crieth out against me: therefore have I hated it.
As a lion — Those that were my sheep, are
become like lions.
Verse 9
[9] Mine heritage is unto me as a speckled bird, the birds
round about are against her; come ye, assemble all the beasts of the field,
come to devour.
The birds round about — It is usual for other
birds to flock about a strange coloured bird, such as they have not been used
to see.
Verse 10
[10] Many pastors have destroyed my vineyard, they have
trodden my portion under foot, they have made my pleasant portion a desolate
wilderness.
A wilderness — They have caused God to turn the
country which he had chosen for his portion, into a wilderness.
Verse 11
[11] They have made it desolate, and being desolate it
mourneth unto me; the whole land is made desolate, because no man layeth it to
heart.
They — Heb. He hath made it desolate: but it cannot be meant
of God, for it is God that speaketh, and God is he mentioned in the next words;
it must therefore either be understood of Nebuchadnezzar, the instrumental
cause; or (one number being put for another) of the people or the rulers as the
meritorious cause, and in that rueful state into which their sins had brought
it, it cried onto God.
Because — And one great cause of this sore judgment was, the
peoples not seriously considering what God had done or was doing against it.
Verse 12
[12] The spoilers are come upon all high places through the
wilderness: for the sword of the LORD shall devour from the one end of the land
even to the other end of the land: no flesh shall have peace.
Are come — The prophet, as usual, speaks of a thing as already
done, which was very shortly to be done.
No flesh — No rank or order of men.
Verse 13
[13] They have sown wheat, but shall reap thorns: they have
put themselves to pain, but shall not profit: and they shall be ashamed of your
revenues because of the fierce anger of the LORD.
Shall not profit — All the works of
their hands, all their counsels and deliberations should be of no profit unto
them.
Because — The fierce anger of God shall be so shewed, that the
returns of their labours or estates, the profits of their trades, shall be so
small, that they shall be ashamed of them.
Verse 14
[14] Thus saith the LORD against all mine evil neighbours,
that touch the inheritance which I have caused my people Israel to inherit;
Behold, I will pluck them out of their land, and pluck out the house of Judah
from among them.
Behold — I will bring the sword upon them also, and they shall
be led into captivity; and tho' they may have made inroads upon my people, and
carried away some of them, yet I will fetch them out of their captivity.
Verse 16
[16] And it shall come to pass, if they will diligently learn
the ways of my people, to swear by my name, The LORD liveth; as they taught my
people to swear by Baal; then shall they be built in the midst of my people.
If — If they will leave their idolatries, and learn to
worship me, and swear by my name the Lord liveth, that is, pay that homage
which they owe to the Divine being to me, the living and true God.
Then — They shall have a portion among my people, which was
eminently fulfilled in the conversion of the Gentiles.
── John Wesley《Explanatory Notes on Jeremiah》
12 Chapter 12
Verses 1-17
Verses 1-6
Righteous art Thou, O Lord, when I plead with Thee.
Communion with God in affliction
I. Why God sees
fit to afflict His children by the dispensations of His providence.
1. God sometimes afflicts His children to reclaim them from their
delusions in religion. They are naturally bent to backsliding.
2. God sometimes afflicts His children to try their sincerity, and
give them an opportunity of knowing their own hearts.
3. God sometimes afflicts His children for the purpose of displaying
the beauty and excellence of true religion before the eyes of the world. In
some cases, at least, we can hardly discover any other important end to be
answered by afflicting His peculiar friends, than this, of displaying their
superior virtue and piety.
II. Why they are
disposed to converse with Him under His afflicting hand.
1. Because they want to know why He afflicts them.
2. They wish to know how they should feel and conduct themselves in
their afflicted state.
3. They desire to obtain Divine support and consolation.
III. What methods
they take to converse with God in time of trouble.
1. By meditating upon the history of His providence.
2. By reviewing the course of His conduct towards themselves through
all the past scenes and stages of their lives.
3. By prayer, while they are suffering His fatherly chastisements.
For this they are greatly prepared, by musing on His past and present
dispensations towards themselves and others. These fill their mouths with
arguments, and constrain them to draw near to God, and make known their wants
and desires, their hopes and fears. This subject may teach the children of
God--
Let me talk with Thee of
Thy judgments.
The judgments of God a lawful subject of human study and
consideration
1. It is lawful for the saints to enter into the mystery of Divine
providence. Providence is the work of God. In its movement we may discern the
actings of the Almighty, and if we are properly attentive to it, we may trace
the marks of His power, wisdom, faithfulness, goodness, and holiness.
2. The saints are permitted to use familiarity with God in these
inquiries. He permits them to state their objections, and to make replies to
His answers, to plead with Him, in the language of our text. “Let us plead
together,” says He, “put Me in remembrance,” state your objections to any part
of My conduct, “declare thou, that thou mayest be justified.” Wonderful
condescension!
3. It is of the first importance in the inquiries into the
dispensations of Providence, that we retain on our spirits an abiding sense of
the essential moral attributes of the Disposer of events. (T. M’Crie, D. D.)
Wherefore doth the way of
the wicked prosper?--
The reasons why the wicked are permitted to prosper
I. It discovers
the ingratitude of the human heart, and shows the monstrous abuse which men
often make of the Divine goodness. Wealth and influence, power and dominion,
are the gifts of God, and if suitably improved, are valuable talents. They give
individuals many opportunities of being extensively useful, and of doing much
good. But, when influence and power are made subservient to gratify the pride,
the vanity, and ambition of the sons of men, they are to be accounted the
greatest evil. Yet, it will not be denied, that these are sometimes the sad effects
which they have produced upon particular individuals. Have not some been guilty
of oppression and tyranny, of plunder and robbery, of cruelty and murder? I
acknowledge that it is natural enough to wish for prosperity and affluence,
power and influence; but, if these blessings were to have the same effect upon
us which they have produced in others, would we not account them the greatest
curse with which we could be visited? But, though prosperity may not have so
shocking an influence upon us as upon some others, if it should minister to
covetousness, is it not to be dreaded? Are not these the dispositions which it
sometimes excites? Instead of enlarging the heart, and making it more liberal,
does it not render men sometimes narrow and contracted? Is not this defeating
the end of providence, and perverting its gifts?
II. To be the means
of chastising the rest of mankind. They are allowed to gratify their own bad
passions, that they may inflict that punishment upon their fellow creatures
which their irreligion and wickedness deserve. Though we may flatter ourselves
that we do not merit correction at the hands of men, none will maintain that we
do not deserve it at the hand of God. Have we not been froward and undutiful
children? God hath told us, in His Word, that He doth not willingly grieve the
children of men; but, when correction becomes necessary, a principle of
affection leads Him to inflict it. He hath often made wicked men the
instruments of His vengeance, to bring His people back to their duty, and to
make them learn righteousness.
III. To aggravate
their guilt and to heighten their condemnation. God often setteth the wicked on
high and slippery places, that He may bring them down suddenly, and make their
fall the greater. They may move heaven and earth with their ambition, and think
that their mountain standeth strong; when, lo! their feet are made to stumble
upon the dark mountains, and they go down to the silent grave, where there is
neither work, wisdom, knowledge, nor device.
IV. That we may hold
higher in esteem those good men who make their wealth and influence subservient
to the glory of God and to the happiness of mankind. Blessed be God, there are
not a few, who, instead of abusing their prosperity, employ it for the benefit
of their fellow creatures! So far from gratifying their pride, and indulging in
luxury, they exert themselves to promote works of industry and charity. They
are ready to deny themselves particular enjoyments, that they may contribute to
the comfort of those around them. Instead of being selfish and worldly, they
are humane and generous. What a blessing is prosperity, when it is the means of
doing good! Our goodness, it is true, cannot extend to God, and He can receive
no benefit from it; but it may be exercised towards His necessitous creatures,
and He considers a kind office done to them as done to Himself.
V. That those in
inferior circumstances may be thankful and contented with the situation in
which God hath placed them. Perhaps you are apt to envy those who live in ease
and plenty. But are you aware of the temptations to which prosperous and rich
men are exposed, and into which they are too apt to fall? What if affluence
should lead you to indulge in pride and vanity, and make you think of
yourselves above what you ought to think? What if it should attach you so much
to the world, as in a great measure to overlook eternity altogether? Oh, never
appear dissatisfied with your condition, or give way to discontent. The very
meanest have cause for gratitude, because they have still more than they
deserve. Let all of us aspire after being poor in spirit and heirs of the
kingdom of God! This is the true riches, of which none can possibly deprive us.
(D. Johnston, D. D.)
The prosperity of bad men and adversity of good men accounted for
I. Wicked men, how
prosperous soever their outward condition in this life, are not in reality so
happy as we are apt to imagine. The reason why those wicked men that prosper in
the world are reckoned happy is, because the generality of men entertain a
wrong notion of happiness. They fancy it consists in having abundance of
riches. Whatever real satisfaction or comfort riches can afford, we are bound
by the frame of our nature to seek after that satisfaction. But in reality do
we not often see health of body, tranquillity of mind, dwelling in a cottage,
whilst bodily pains and restless anxieties fly daily about the palaces of
kings? Which shows that happiness is something distinct from riches, something
which riches alone can never give us.
II. Supposing the
wicked men are more happy, and meet with less trouble than other men, let us
inquire upon what accounts God almighty may permit this, consistently with the
character of a wise, just, and good Governor of the world. Besides the moral
enjoyment which springs from virtue only, there are other delights accruing to
us from the possession of riches, honour, and secular power. Of these, many
wicked men have a greater portion than the virtuous.
1. And the reason is, because some good men are weak in their judgments,
and imprudent or indolent in managing their secular affairs; which exposes them
to many inconveniences, and hinders their rising in the world. Now, if we ask
why the Almighty permits this to the disadvantage of good men, it is the same
as if we should ask why He made men free agents. The disadvantages virtuous men
labour under at present, will doubtless be recompensed, one day or other, by
the just and merciful Governor of the world. In the meantime, the solid
pleasure they enjoy as the immediate consequence of their goodness, is surely
preferable to any external advantages the wicked may procure themselves by
their superior cunning and sagacity.
2. Another reason why God may permit wicked men to prosper in the
world seems to be the natural effect of His overflowing goodness. He would give
them more time for repentance.
3. Perhaps another reason why the Supreme Being withholds some
temporal benefits from good men, which the wicked possess, may be, because He
foresees they will prove hurtful to them. Alteration of circumstances often
creates a change of manners. And there are some tempers which, I believe, would
keep steady to virtue in a scene of adversity, and yet run into open and
extreme degrees of vice in a scene of prosperity.
II. The objection
in the text should not in reason make us entertain any dishonourable thought of
the Divine dispensations, but rather teach us to infer the reasonableness and
necessity of a future state. To know the justness of any scheme, it is
necessary to be acquainted with all its parts, and all their mutual relations.
How, then, can we determine every particular in the scheme of Providence, of
which we must confess ourselves utterly ignorant? Should a man take upon him to
condemn a well wrought tragedy by only reading one of its scenes, without
considering how it was interwoven with the main plot and contrivance of the
work, would he not be justly blamed for his partiality! And is not he more
inexcusably partial, who censures the beautiful drama of the Divine government,
without knowing the secret contrivance by which it is carried on? I shall only
add one observation more to justify Providence against the objection in the
text, which is, that we are frequently mistaken who are really good, and who
otherwise; and, consequently, are very incompetent judges when men are
equitably dealt by. (N. Ball.)
The prosperity of the wicked
I. When you are
repining at the prosperity of the wicked, and feel a consequent inclination to
relax from your faith in Christ, remember that, in the revelation through Jesus
Christ, we are nowhere led to expect that the wicked shall not be prosperous
here. “Ye will not come to Me that ye may have life,” was the remonstrance of
our Saviour. “This do, and thou shalt live,” the injunction everywhere implied:--live,--not
amidst the joys of this transitory scene, but at the right hand of God forever!
The treasures of earth were never mentioned by Him to the faithful, but to
guard them against their danger, and remind them of a “treasure in heaven.” Christ
knew the natural opposition of worldly prosperity to the lowly virtues of the
Gospel; and, earnest for the everlasting interests of men, guarded them against
the desire of things, the possession of which might be fatal:--and, if men
would, by ways unwarranted by God, seek what God had forbidden, it was at the
double peril of disobeying His commands, and disregarding His counsels.
II. The Gospel has
not only forbidden us to be surprised, or envious, at the prosperity of the
wicked, but has positively shown us that a life of tribulation for Jesus’ sake
is the proper passport to heaven. Nothing can be so glorious as the scenes
which the Gospel has opened to our faith; but nothing so solemn as those
through which we must pass to reach them. We are, in this life, in a state of
dangerous apostasy from God: and the glare of prosperity is a light but very
ill suited for us to behold. The sufferings of our Lord are held out to our
view, that, “looking unto Jesus,” who “left us an example, that we should
follow His steps,” we might take up our cross to do it. Why, then, do you ask,
does the way of the wicked prosper? Why, rather ought ye to ask, should the
believer in Christ repine at it? Why should he sigh for a state the very
opposite to that in which His Saviour walked, and, if gained by sin, gained by
means which brought that Saviour to the Cross, and would now open His wounds
afresh?
III. Another
argument which I would use, to check repining at the outward prosperity of sin,
is, that it is, at best, extremely overrated, and its nature very ill
understood. It is by no means true that prosperity is confined to “the
treacherous dealer and the wicked.” God has indeed told us, that, to enter into
His kingdom, we must meet with opposition, wrestle with contending evils, and
pass the time of our sojourning here in fear. But the path, even to temporal
blessings, is open to the believer in Christ, though He commands us not to make
them the object of our ambition, nor expect them as the consequences of our
faith. But, even were this not so, were prosperity confined to sin alone, we
surely mistake its nature if its attractions dazzle us, and think but
imperfectly of God if we mistrust His goodness. He has not so balanced the good
and evil, of this life as to make every attraction and every joy lie on the
side of sin. “There is no peace to the wicked.” “They may live in
affluence,--but it is not peace. They may live in indolence,--but it is not
peace.” They may live in thoughtlessness,--but it is not peace. It is not that
peace which a God of everlasting mercy can bestow, of which the soul of man,
that was made for God, is capable, and for which it unceasingly longs. In
talking of that peace of God, we talk of what it is impossible for those who
have not experienced it to conceive.
IV. But the
comprehensive argument, which closes at once all discussion and all doubts, is
the disclosure and adjustment of all the ways of God in the great day of
general retribution. If there be a subject of contemplation sublimer than
another, or completely interesting to the soul of reasonable man, it is surely
the thought of being led hereafter to behold all the glorious works of the
great and eternal God:--to see how, through all the amazing vicissitudes of
time, He has conducted the affairs of worlds on worlds; and kept distinct,
through all the crossings and confusions of myriads of foes, the strait and
narrow path to heaven:--how from the jarring elements He reared the goodly
frame of nature, and settled it in peace; and, uniting the still more jarring
passions and infidel contentions of mankind, made all conspire to His eternal
glory, and cooperate for the universal good! (G. Mathew, M. A.)
Verse 2
Thou art near in their mouth, and far from their reins.
God comes nearer to the hearts of His people in their duties than
He doth to any hypocritical or formal professor
By God’s nearness we understand not His omnipresence (that neither
comes nor goes), nor His love to His people (that abides), but the sensible,
sweet manifestations and outlets of it to their souls (Psalms 145:18). Note the limitation of
this glorious privilege; it is the peculiar enjoyment of sincere and
upright-hearted worshippers.
1. Sincere souls are sensible of God’s accesses to them in their
duties, they feel His approaches to their spirits (Lamentations 3:57). The heart fills
apace, the empty thoughts swell with a fulness of spiritual things, which
strive for vent.
2. They are sensible of God’s withdrawment from their spirits; they
feel how the ebb follows the flood, and how the waters abate (Song of Solomon 5:6).
3. The Lord’s nearness to the hearts and reins of His people in their
duties is evident to them from the effects that it leaves upon their spirits.
For look, as it is with the earth and plants, with respect to the approach or
remove of the sun in the spring and autumn, so it is here as Christ speaks (Luke 21:29).
Infer--
1. Then certainly there is a heaven and a state of glory for the
saints.
2. But, oh! what is heaven? And what that state of glory reserved for
the saints? Doth a glimpse of God’s presence in a duty go down to the heart and
reins? Oh, how unutterable, then, must that be which is seen and felt above,
where God comes as near to man as can be! (Revelation 22:3-4.)
3. See hence the necessity of casting these very bodies into a new
mould by their resurrection from the dead (1 Corinthians 15:41).
4. Is God so near to His people above all others in the world? How
good is it to be near to them that are so near to God:
5. If God be so near to the heart and reins of His people in their
duties, oh, how assiduous should they be in their duties!
6. What steady Christians should all real Christians be! For lo, what
a seal and witness hath religion in the breast of every sincere professor of
it! (John Flavel.)
Verse 5
If thou hast run with the footmen, and they have wearied thee,
then how canst thou contend with horses?
The heroism of endurance
Jeremiah had to pay the price of singularity. He had to learn not
only to do without the sweet incense of popular favour, but also to stand
unflinching even when it turned into the hot breath of hatred. He had to submit
not only to be without friends, but to see friends become foes. This experience
through which the prophet passed is a cruel one It either makes a man or mars
him, and nearly always hardens him. It creates an indignation, a holy anger
sometimes against men, sometimes against the strange, untoward state of
affairs, sometimes against God. Jeremiah here is kicking against the pricks
which have wounded the feet of men for centuries: how to account for the fact
that in a world governed by a righteous God righteousness should often have to
suffer so much. His indignant soul, on fire for justice, cries out that it
ought not to be so. Jeremiah’s wherefore about the wicked is really a why about
himself. Why am I bared to the blast in following Thy will and performing Thy
command? why are tears and strife my portion? why am I wearied out and left
desolate, though I am fighting the Lord’s battle? That is the prophet’s real
complaint. Notice the answer, surely the strangest and most inconsequent ever
given. The complaint is answered by a counter-complaint. Jeremiah’s charge
against God of injustice is met by God’s charge against Jeremiah of weakness.
“If thou hast run with the footmen, and they have wearied thee, then how canst
thou contend with horses? Though in a land of peace thou art secure, yet how
wilt thou do (O faint-hearted one!) in the pride of Jordan?” The “pride of
Jordan” means the dangerous ground by the river, where the heat is almost
tropical and the vegetation is rank. It is jungle, tangled bush wherein wild
beasts lurk, leopards and wolves and (at that time also) lions. The answer to
the complaint against the hardness of his lot is just the assertion that it
shall be harder still. Does it seem an unfeeling answer? It was the answer
Jeremiah needed. He needed to be braced, not pampered. He is taught the need of
endurance. Only a heroic soul could do the heroic work needed by Israel and by
God; and it was the greatest heroism of all which was needed, the heroism of
endurance. Nothing worth doing can be done in this world without something of
that iron resolution. It is the spirit which never knows defeat, which cannot
be worn out, which has taken its stand and refuses to move. This is the
“patience” about which the Bible is full; not the sickly counterfeit which so
often passes for patience, but the power to bear, to suffer, to sacrifice, to
endure all things, to die, harder still, sometimes, to continue to live. The
whole world teaches that patience. Inch by inch each advance has to be gained,
fought for, paid for, kept. It is the lesson of all history also, both for the
individual and for a body of men who have espoused any cause. Christ’s Church
has survived through her power to endure. The mustard seed, planted with tears
and watered with blood, stood the hazard of every storm, gripped tenaciously
the soil, twining its roots round the rocks, reared its head ever a little
higher, and spread out its branches ever a little fuller, and when the tempest
came held on for very life; and then, never hasting, never resting, went on in
the Divine task of growing; and at last became the greatest of trees, giving
shelter to the birds of the air in its wide-spreading branches. It is the same
secret of success for the individual spiritual life. “In your patience ye shall
win your soul. This method is utterly opposed to the world’s method of insuring
success, which is by self-assertion, aggressive action, force for force, blow
for blow. Patience, not violence, is the Christian’s safety Even if all else be
lost it saves the soul, the true life. It gives fibre to the character. It
purifies the heart, as gold in the furnace. What do we know of this heroic
endurance? In our fight with temptation, in our warfare against all forms of
evil, have we used our Master’s watchword, and practised our Master’s scheme?
Think of our temptation in the matter of foreign missions, for example. We are
easily made faint-hearted about it. We say that results are disproportionate to
the effort; or rather (for that is not true) we are overpowered by the vastness
of the work. If we find our small attempt a burden, how can we face the vaster
problem of making the kingdoms of this world the kingdom of God and His Christ?
If we are wearied in our race with footmen, how can we contend with horses? We
are so easily dispirited, not only in Christian enterprise, but also in personal
Christian endeavour. We are so soon tempted to give up. We need some iron in
our blood. We need to be braced to the conflict again. We need the noble scorn
of consequence. What have we done, the best of us, for God or for man? (Hugh
Black.)
Testing questions
The text may be applied to--
I. Duties. If in
the ordinary duties of life you have been wearied, how will you be able to meet
the higher and special duties to which you may be called? Manfully and
courageously face these, and then you may hope to meet the others with strength
equal to their performance.
II. Trials. If the
trials which are common to man tax your patience, how will you do when called
to pass through extraordinary? Do not give way under these, but endure them
without shrinking, then when the Job-like trials come, you may bear them as he
did.
III. Temptations. If
those, common to man, have taxed your strength, and led you to complain of
their severity, how will you do when special and more than ordinary temptations
come upon you? Resist the devil in the first temptation, and you will be better
able to resist him in the second, and so on.
IV. Troubles. Do
the ripples on the waters of the sea of life affect you, then how will you do
when the surges of the tempest come upon you? Do the dark clouds of the sky
frighten you, then how will you feel when the lurid lightning and terrible
thunders fill the heavens? (J. Bate.)
Comparative estimate of trials
I. The unhappy
disposition which shows itself in many persons to disquiet themselves unduly on
account of comparatively small trials. That man should, under any
circumstances, seek to become his own tormentor is a singular anomaly, and
strikingly proves how sin infatuates the human mind. The desire of happiness is
a native and universal feeling in the breast. We do not assert that men are
required to stifle all natural feeling, and to maintain a stoical apathy in
reference to what we term “inferior trials.” The inconveniences and lighter
evils of life must be felt. One person is seen to brood over what is called
“the badness of the times”: another is in trouble, because his mercantile or
household affairs are disarranged through the unfaithfulness of servants or
dependants: a third is unhappy because the tongue of slander has gone forth
against him: and a fourth is out of sorts because he had ardently aspired at
something which he has failed to obtain. It is observable, moreover, that
persons are often wont to complain in connection with those very points where
they have the least possible ground for complaint. This man makes a trial of a
bad speculation in trade, though his barns are filled with plenty, and his
presses burst out with new wine; and that man makes a trial of certain domestic
irregularities, while, in the main, he is thickly encompassed with domestic
mercies.
II. The bearing
which the disposition or propensity of which we have spoken, has upon the real
afflictions of life, as well as upon the soul’s spiritual conflict.
1. In the natural course of things we may expect that man to be ill prepared
for a season of sorrow, who is wont to fret and disquiet himself on common and
frequently recurring occasions. The mind which is not inured to salutary
discipline will, sooner or later, be found an enemy to its own peace.
2. But let us take higher ground, and view the subject in a spiritual
light. In the case of the true believer, we cannot, for a moment, doubt that
God designs every circumstance which befalls him, however minute, and every
trial which comes upon him, however slight, to work for his good. Neither can
we doubt that this gracious design is answered or defeated, according to the
disposition of mind in which either comforts or crosses are received.
3. All the crosses and inconveniences of life should have the effect
of sending the Christian to a throne of grace. No circumstance which threatens
to harass the mind is too trivial to be carried to God in prayer, with a view
to the obtaining of that assistance which is promised for every time of need.
It will seldom, however, be found that persons who yield to the habit of
magnifying inferior evils, and discomposing their minds with comparatively
trifling occurrences, will see fit to pray for a right spirit in connection
with these things, and for grace suited to the occasion. The consequence of the
omission can hardly fail to be experienced in the darker day of adversity, when
large supplies of strength are needed, and when increased exertion is called
for.
4. In spiritual as well as in providential dispensations, the lesser
has its bearing upon the greater. A propensity to be discouraged or alarmed, if
perchance an envenomed dart is, now and then, hurled from Satan’s quiver, or if
a cloud occasionally overcasts the soul’s experience, is by no means a
desirable preparative for that severer discipline of the life of grace, with
which few of the Lord’s people are entirely unacquainted.
Lessons--
1. The language of Divine reproof should put every Christian upon
serious and faithful self-examination.
2. It is well, in a certain way, to anticipate seasons of heavy
affliction. Think how soon health may be interrupted, friends removed, schemes
defeated, and hopes forever blasted! Such thoughts, if sanctified in answer to
prayer, will have a happy effect upon the general character of your experience.
3. Seasons of intense suffering are often made occasions of signal
interpositions in behalf of God’s people. Your emergency shall prove your
Heavenly Father’s opportunity; your heaviest trials shall be made the marked
occasions of your realising the greatness of His power, and the intensity of
His love.
4. It is the Gospel of Jesus Christ which imparts to the gloomy
foliage of this wilderness world every particle of the radiance with which it
is tinged. To see in Christ Jesus, the foundation of our every hope, the source
of our strength, the channel of our consolations, the vitality of every
spiritual principle and movement in our souls,--this is truly to know Him as
“the power of God, and the wisdom of God.” (W. Knight, M. A.)
The Christian’s triumph
One of the greatest battles on record was fought and won, seven
hundred years ago, by the merchants and artisans of Brussels against the arms
of France. Reduced by famine to the greatest straits, the city one evening
opened her beleaguered gates, not to admit the enemy, but that such as were
able to carry arms might march out--to make their last throw in the bloody game
of war. The night, which was falling down when they came in sight of the
banners and tents of France, was spent by their enemies in riot and carousings.
It was spent by these wise, brave burghers in seeking rest for tomorrow’s
fight; and by their leaders, in making the most skilful arrangements. The men
of Brussels rose with the dawn, and took what was to some, and might be to all,
their last earthly meal. Knowing that they, a few rude townsmen, had no chance
against the magnificent host of France unless God helped the fight for home,
and wife, and children, and liberty, they cried to heaven for help. Every man
made confession, and received the rites administered to the dying. The solemn
service concluded, they rose from their knees; closed their ranks; levelled
their pikes; and wheeling round so as to throw the glare of the sun in the eyes
of the enemy, came down on their lines an avalanche of steel. The charge was
irresistible. They bore cuirass and knightly lance before them; and these
base-born traders scattered the chivalry of France, like smoke before the wind,
and chaff before the whirlwind. This story illustrates a remarkable saying of
one who fought many battles, and seldom, if ever, lost any. Asked to what he
attributed his remarkable success, he replied, I owe it, under God, to this,
that I made it a rule never to despise an enemy. To what warfare is this rule
so applicable as to the Christian’s; to the battles of the faith; to those
conflicts which the believer is called to wage with Satan, the world, and the
flesh? In spiritual matters we are, under the guidance of the Holy Spirit and
of the Word of God, to steer right between the two; and, to help you forward in
this safe and blessed course, let me explain and answer the question of the
text.
I. Man is less a
match for Satan now than when Satan, at their first encounter, proved himself
more than a match for man. The bravest soldiers hang back from the breach,
where, as it belches forth fire and smoke, they have seen the flower of the
army fall; mowed down like grass. The bravest seamen dread the storm which has
wrecked, with the stout ship, the gallant lifeboat that had gone to save its
crew; men saying, If with her brave hands and buoyant power she, whelmed among
the waves, could not live in such a sea, what chance for common craft? And what
chance for us where our first parents perished? how can guilt stand where
innocence fell? Hope there is none for us out of Christ.
II. If we were
overcome by sin ere it had grown into strength, we are now less able to resist
it. Fallen though we are, there remains a purity, modesty, ingenuousness, and
tenderness of conscience, about childhood, that looks as if the glory of Eden
yet lingered over it, like the light of day on hilltops at even, when the sun
is down. It has wrung our heart, as we looked on some lost and loathsome
creature--the pest of society, and the shame of her sex--to think of the days
when she was a smiling infant in a mother’s happy arms, or, ignorant of evil,
lisped long-forgotten prayers at a mother’s knee; when her voice rose in the
psalms of family worship, or of the house of God, like the song of a seraph in
the skies. Alas! “How is the gold become dim! how is the most fine gold
changed!” Justifying this sad description, “The wicked are estranged from the
womb; they go astray as soon as they be born, speaking lies,”--alas, how soon
does sin cloud life’s brightest dawn! If we were no match for the cub, how
shall we conquer the grown lion? If we had not strength to pull out the
sapling, how are we to root up the tree? Every new act of sin casts up an
additional impediment in our way of return to virtue, and to God; until that
which was once only a molehill swells into a mountain that nothing can remove,
but the faith at whose bidding mountains are removed, and cast into the depths
of the sea. I can do all things through Christ who strengtheneth me.
III. Show how these
difficulties are to be overcome. The Spirit and the flesh, grace and nature,
heavenly and earthly influences, are sometimes so fairly balanced, that like a
ship with wind and tide acting on her with equal power, but in opposite
directions, the believer makes no progress in the Divine life. He loses
headway. He does not become worse, but he grows no better; and it is all he can
do to hold his own. Sometimes, indeed, he loses ground; falling into old sins.
Temptation comes like a roaring sea squall, and, finding him asleep at his post,
drives him backward on his course; and farther now from heaven than once he
was, he has to pray, Heal my backsliding, renew me graciously, love me
freely--For Thy name’s sake, O Lord, pardon mine iniquity, for it is great. Are
we never to grow fit for heaven? is our hope of it but a pious dream, a
beautiful delusion? Daily called to contend with temptation, the battle often
goes against us; in these passions, and tempers, and old habits, the sons of
Zeruiah are too strong for us. Not that we do not fight. That startling cry,
“The Philistines are on thee, Samson!” rouses us; we make some little fight;
but too often resisting only to be conquered, we are ready to give up the
struggle, saying, It is useless; and like Saul in Gilboa’s battle, to throw away
sword and shield. We would; but that, cheered by a voice from above, and
sustained by hope in God’s grace and mercy, we can turn to our souls to say,
Why art thou cast down, my soul; why is my spirit disquieted within me?--rise;
resume thy arms; renew the combat; never surrender--Hope thou in God, for I
shall yet praise Him who is the health of my countenance, and my God. (T.
Guthrie, D. D.)
Fearful odds
I. The troubles of
the mind in this life are often sharp and bitter, enough to tax its powers to
the seeming limit of endurance. When the mind looks back upon its past history,
views its present state, and anticipates its future destiny, and finds in them
respectively occasions of regret, shame, and alarm, it is filled with acute
suffering. And if this survey is directed to its moral condition and relations,
if it is led to view itself as endowed with a capacity to know and choose good
and evil, as having its being under the government of God, bound to obey His
laws, and liable to answer at His throne for all its faults and offences, it
tastes the bitterness of an accusing conscience, and is stung with keen
remorse, and agitated with horrible dread. Yet, in such moments of unwonted
moral illumination, we do but guess of that which shortly shall be. What the eye
then sees, it sees, after all, but “through a glass darkly.” And oh! if the
glimpse be so horrible, what shall be the naked vision? If such periods be so
rich in suffering, what shall be the eternity they foreshadow? For memory is
now exceedingly imperfect, and self-knowledge partial, and the horrors of the
prospect before us mitigated by the medium of future opportunity and
preparation, through which they are seen. Time covers up much of our wickedness
from ourselves; and self-love and the “deceitfulness of sin” so ten the
ugliness of our faults; and futurity presents a thousand avenues of escape, and
“convenient seasons” of reformation. Thus we now have resorts and refuges
whither we can betake ourselves from the arrows of conscience. Then, oh! “if in
this land of peace wherein we trust,”--wherein there is so much in which the
soul may confide, so much to stay it up, and give it quietness in reference to
its controversy and reckoning with God,--we find the sense of our sinfulness
and the apprehensions of wrath too much for us, a wearisome “burden too heavy
to be borne,” what, oh! what “shall we do in the swelling of Jordan,” when “the
waters shall overflow our hiding places”? And if “a wounded spirit we cannot
bear,” now, while there are so many nostrums of our own to soothe its pains,
while there is a sovereign balm at hand to heal it, and a good Physician near
to bind it up; how, oh! how shall we endure its smart, when “indignation shall
vex it as a thing that is raw” beneath its own eye; and the eye of God, shining
into it with an insufferable brightness, shall give it a keen sense of what it
has been, is, and shall be, and all the universe cannot afford it a covert, or
a balsam to assuage its agony?
II. The body has
its pains, too, in this life, and they are many and exquisite. We are
“fearfully” as well as “wonderfully made,” compacted of an infinite number of
frail, delicate, and sensitive fibres, which are broken and lacerated by very
trivial causes and accidents. What, then, may be the sufferings of which an
immortal and “spiritual body” may be capable? And how intolerable the anguish,
of which the refined and exquisite texture of that indestructible and
everlasting organisation which awaits us at the resurrection, may be
susceptible!
III. We are here forced
to endure distresses of estate, of outward and relative situation. Here is one
who wears the outward paraphernalia of consequence and prosperity, but there is
a worm gnawing at the heart of his happiness. There is some hidden mischief
that spoils all; some vicious, or sickly, or idiot child, it may be, some
wayward spirit in his family, some “root of bitterness” in his domestic
circumstances, which men either do not see, or justly estimate, that poisons
all his good things. Yonder is a man who might be happy, if there were not so
many above him in society, whose level he cannot reach. A little matter will
suffice to destroy the sweetness of a thousand blessings. Now, if we find it so
hard to bear the inconveniences and annoyances of this life, where is the
strength to endure the discomforts of a situation in a world, where all the
society is vile and malignant, “hateful, and hating one another,” and all the
circumstances fraught with nothing but mortification, disgrace, restraint,
impotent desire, ineffectual effort, and hopeless resistance? Oh! then, let the
exhaustion and vexation wherewith our Omnipotent Antagonist makes known His
power in the milder visitings of His displeasure that reach us this side the
grave, persuade us to leave off our mad rebellion, and seek a timely peace. (R.
A. Hallam, D. D.)
Gradations of trial
I. To those who
are discouraged by trifling difficulties, in the service of God. To renounce
Christian service because of its difficulties, is to faint among the footmen,
and ultimately to contend with the horses. For how will it be when awakened
conscience, with its multiplied rebukes, assails thee? How wilt thou assuage
the mourning over lost opportunities, and the deep remorse called up by the
retrospect of a wasted life?
II. To those who
succumb to but feeble temptations. Take the case of one who has recently fallen
into the commission of sin--open, known sin. The inducements to commit the
great transgression were not powerful in themselves, but the unhappy victim was
ensnared almost without resistance; perhaps from want of vigilance, or it may
have been through desperate carelessness. The circumstances may even have
proved favourable for a triumph over the powers of darkness. A few urgent cries
for deliverance would have been successful, escape was close at hand, but the
effort, alas! was not made, or feebly made; and now the memory of that sin
haunts the conscience, destroys the peace, and embitters all the joys of life.
Falling thus easily into the wiles of Satan, what will become of you when he
cometh in like a flood? How will you endure when resistance must be unto blood
striving against sin? In that hour, unless the heart be established by grace,
you will be driven like chaff from the threshing floor. Or, take the case of
the young man who, while yet in his father’s house, surrounded by all the
amenities of domestic love, and sheltered by the sanctions of a Christian home,
has fallen, nevertheless, into sinful habits. What will become of him when all
these restraints are removed?
III. To those who
sink under light afflictions. It is not insensibility which is required
of us, because there can be no courage in bearing what we do not feel; nor are
we to sink into despair in the hour of suffering, because that would sacrifice
the virtue of the trial. The happy medium is prescribed (Hebrews 12:5). It is, however, a very
narrow pathway this, between too much and too little feeling of Divine
chastisement. There is too much sensibility when we are rendered incapable of
the worship of God, or are thrown out of sympathy with our fellow men, or when
we are utterly absorbed in sorrow to the neglect of all the pressing claims of
duty. There is too little feeling of Divine chastisement when we are not, by
its agency brought to faithful heart searching, and to anxious inquiry
respecting the purpose of our Heavenly Father in the correction. Let us look at
all our trials as opportunities of personal advantage. The exercise of patience
is of itself a grand moral lesson. To be joyous in tribulation is greater grace
than to be zealous in the time of strength. It may help us in the season of
depression and suffering to compare our condition with that of others. The most
accumulated of distresses, the strangest combination of griefs, will not make
us the worst off in the world. Least of all can we count our sorrows against
His “who gave Himself an offering and a sacrifice to God for a sweet-smelling
savour.” We can also in the midst of all afflictions anticipate the rapidly
approaching hour of deliverance. We shall presently cast off all earth’s
calamities as the drops of a summer shower that have scarcely penetrated
through our garments.
IV. To those who
are not profiting by favourable providences. One of the later Latin poets has
an apologue on the missing of opportunity worthy of our attention. A visitor to
the studio of Phidias having inspected the statues of the different deities,
inquired the name of one unknown object. It had winged feet,--to show how
swiftly it flies; its features were covered with hair,--because, when
approaching the spectator, it is rarely identified; it was bald
behind,--because when once gone none can seize upon it;--closely following at
its heels was a slavish form. The first is Opportunity,--the last Repentance.
Men miss the goddess Opportunity, and fall into the arms of Repentance. “So are
the sons of men snared in an evil time, when it falleth suddenly upon them.” (W.
G. Lewis.)
The progressive trials in life’s mission
The preceding verses display two things in the spiritual history
of the prophet, which good men in all ages have often deeply felt--
1. An apparent incongruity between a fundamental article of religious
belief, and the common facts of society. The righteousness of God he grasped
with the tenacity of an earnest faith, it lay as the basis of all his religious
views; and yet the facts of society, everywhere, seemed to contradict it. He
saw, on all hands, the wicked prosperous and happy.
2. An incongruity between the fundamental spirit of religion and the
passing feelings of the moment. The underlying spirit of religion is love; love
to God and love to man--love even to enemies; but the prophet here expresses
feelings in direct opposition to this spirit. How does he feel towards these
wicked men? Commiseration? No, vengeance! Now, the text must be regarded as a
gentle but impressive reproof, addressed by the great God to the prophet, for
his want of forbearance and self-control.
I. The trials in
life’s mission are of various degrees of power in the history of the same man.
1. None ever sailed the sea of mortal life and found every wind and
tide propitious, the ocean always calm, and the horizon ever bright. But we are
to speak of trials of a certain class, not the trials which come upon a man
independent of his conduct, such as physical pain, bereavement, etc.; rather of
such as are connected with the prosecution of his duties,--the trials of
endeavour.
2. Every man has a mission; and every man who endeavours to fulfil it
will meet with trials.
II. The man who
fails to contend successfully with the lesser trials, will not be able to
withstand the greater. This principle is capable of application to all the
departments of action to which we have referred: but we shall apply it
exclusively to the comparative difficulties of getting religion in different
periods of life.
1. We apply it to youth and age. With youth there are docility of
disposition, tenderness of feeling, and freedom of intellect. As age comes on
these disappear, and prejudices, indifference, and confirmed habits take their
place.
2. We apply it to health and disease. There is required, especially
in adult life and for investigating minds, a large amount of mental abstraction
as the necessary means of attaining religion. Disease and suffering are not
only unfavourable to such abstraction, but, in many cases, necessarily prevent
its exercise.
3. We apply it to life and death. What is religion? The surrendering
of our all to God,--the yielding up of ourselves as a living sacrifice. How can
the man, therefore, who cannot resign himself to a commercial loss, or who
responds most inadequately, if at all, to the claims of benevolence in life, be
able, cheerfully, to yield his friends, property, and all he has, and is, to
the great God in death? (Homilist.)
The less and the greater conflict
The Christian life is an exercise; necessarily a trial of strength
and scene of discipline. But in the order of nature and providence there is a
wise gradation, a benevolent introduction from the lesser to the greater ills
of life. Steadfastness, patience, cheerful confidence in the smaller and less
dangerous conflicts of life, will discipline and adapt us to bear the fiery
assaults of the enemy.
I. Ordinary life,
common everyday life, is the “running with the footmen,” is “the land of peace,
where we are secure.” It tries our temper, our patience, our principles. It
puts us to the proof whether we honour God most and best. Look where you will,
be what you may, life is a trial. Riches, learning, piety, nothing can ward off
trouble. It is a condition, not an accident of humanity.
II. There is a
benevolent preparation and education for greater and more distressing conflicts
by accustoming us to those which are common. The unerring eye sees the cup, the
strong fatherly hand measures the draught. But we must bear in mind, when we
have to tread the winepress alone, that God has a purpose in every vexation of
daily life, in every cross, in every baffled enterprise, in every silent tear;
and that that purpose is to prepare us by steadfastness in what is little and
easy to bear, for confidence in Him under greater perils, in troubles which are
hard to bear. The light in the darkness of today’s disappointment is designed
to make us hold fast the lamp against the hour of that “darkness which may be
felt.” Let no one think these lessons of daily life unimportant. “He that
despiseth little things shall perish by little and little.” We must learn the
secret of strength while running with the footmen.
III. In this Divine
remonstrance it is distinctly implied that we shall be called to contend with
the horsemen. The future is dark with shadows, but the Lord’s words will hold
good of us all. Prepared or unprepared we must meet the storm, and if a little
rain frighten us, how shall we meet it? Our sins, our weaknesses, our
temptations, the virulence of the enemy, all render the coming struggles
inevitable. Whatever you have gone through in this way is but a preparation for
the hour of darkness; you will be called to contend with an enemy stronger than
yourself, as a horseman is stronger than a footman; and you will be trodden
down unless you are clothed with the strength of Him who is able to make you
confident, “though a host should encamp against you.” (B. Kent.)
Trivial trouble
We condole with ourselves about troubles which are nothing but
passing inconveniences; pin pricks are crucifixions. The fact is we bewail
ourselves so continually and piercingly because we have little or no real trouble.
Consider the sorrows of your neighbours, the misfortunes and crushing trials of
your friends, and, in comparison, your troubles are absurd. Landsmen crossing
the sea are full of anxiety and protest if only a slight breeze rock the ship;
they are in anguish as if they suffered shipwreck; but the old salt, who has
known the wrath of the ocean, smiles at their fretfulness and fear: and our
neighbours and friends, who know what trouble is, listen with a compassionate
smile to the glib recital of our toy tragedies. Our lamentations over this,
that, or the other trifle, are convincing proof that we are well off; one
genuine misfortune, one shattering thunderbolt, would hush our woeful tale. In
the meantime we make more ado about a crumpled rose leaf than thousands of
noble men and women do about a crown of thorns. The age in which we live tends
to intensify sensitiveness, and we need to be on our guard against magnifying
molehills into mountains and thistles into forests. We are taken care of on
every side, our thousand artificial wants are promptly and ingeniously met, we
have facilities and luxuries innumerable, until we become hypersensitive, and
feel ourselves martyrs if the wind blows a little hot or cold, if we suffer
toothache, or are overtaken by “the pleasant trouble of the rain.” The habit of
observing these shallow troubles, nursing them, talking about them, making fax
more of them than we justly ought to make, is to be carefully watched. It tends
to impair the largeness, strength, and heroism of the soul, and to leave us
unfortified against the real trials which most likely await us a little farther
on. If the footmen weary us, how shall we contend with horses? A calm, wise,
reticent way of bearing ordinary irritations, annoyances, and misfortunes will
discipline and brace us to play our part worthily when we must battle with the
avalanche, earthquake, and flood. (W. L. Watkinson.)
Prepare for greater things
If they cannot face the candle, what will they do when they see
the sun? (Demosthenes.)
Effort easier now than it will be in the future
If, in early life, when sin was comparatively weak and conscience
was comparatively strong, we were so easily and so often overcome by
temptation, what hope for us when this order is reversed; when conscience has become
weak and sin grown strong? If we were no match for the cub, how shall we
conquer the grown lion? If we had not strength to pull out the sapling, how are
we to root up the tree? If it exceeded our utmost power to turn the stream near
its mountain cradle, how shall we turn the river that, roaring and swollen,
pours its flood on to the sea? If we could not resist the stone on the brow of
the hill, how shall we stop it when gathering speed at every turn, and force at
every bound, it rushes into the valley with resistless might? Sin gaining such
power by time and habit.
And if in the land of
peace, wherein thou trustedst, they wearied thee, then how wilt thou do in the
swelling of Jordan?--
The land of peace
I. Expostulation.
1. God has appointed to all of us our peculiar trials; some have a
heavy burden, and are inclined, on looking upon the events which befall them,
to join in the complaint of the patriarch, “All these things are against me.”
“Deep calleth unto deep,” etc. (Psalms 42:7); while that which has fallen
to the lot of others is so slight as hardly to be called trial at all. The
point in question, however, is not as to the degree of trial, but as to the way
in which it is borne, and the results it is producing. All trials have their
own work to perform, their result to produce, which could be produced in no
other way; but then let us ask ourselves individually, Are these trials
producing that result in my own case? We know what those fruits are; the
patience, the bringing under the impatient and rebellious will, and the
disciplining it to wait in humble submission upon God, the experience of self,
and of the evil within, of God’s love as exactly suiting the need felt--the hope,
not impulsive and uncertain, but sure and steady, and making not ashamed.
2. Similar thoughts may be suggested with regard to our conflict with
sin and internal corruption. We are apt to complain of the difficulties of our
Christian course. The way of self-denial and cross-bearing is found to be a
hard way, the power of indwelling corruption is great, and love is cold. This
is all true; but God warned us on our setting out, that the race we were
engaging in was no easy matter, but that it would call for every energy, and
that at no time could vigilance be laid aside with safety. The question is,
then, have those difficulties complained of led to increased distrust of
self--more constant watchfulness? There may be greater difficulties yet to be
overcome, a greater and more important work to be done for the Master’s sake,
and how can utter failure be avoided in these more difficult contests, unless
we are gaining ground in that to which we have already been called? The
question is (and this point is a most important one), not what success might
you be gaining under other conditions, with temptations less strong, with
fuller opportunities of good, and so forth; but in that particular conflict to
which you are called, with those very besetting sins, prone to this infirmity
or that, are you striving in the strength of the Lord earnestly and
unremittingly?
3. There is a thought which may be brought to our minds by the
typical idea familiarly attached to Jordan, as the emblem of death. Is there
not often too wide a difference between a Christian employed in the active
duties of life, and the same man when cast upon a bed of sickness, and knowing
that perhaps his end may be near? There is necessarily a difference in the
demonstration of feeling, but should there be this difference in the whole tone
as it were of our religion? Unless now, while all is peaceful, and matters are
going on in their accustomed course, there is the habitual living upon Christ,
with a frequent sense of His presence, and delight in communion with Him, how
shall we do in the swelling of Jordan?
II. Encouragement
from the converse thought. If you have been faithful in that which is less,
there is room for hope that you will be upheld in that which is greater, that
if you have not been wearied and neglectful in the lesser conflict in which you
have already been engaged, you will not be suffered to fall or be overcome in
any that may yet threaten you. Have you misgivings and doubts as to future
attacks of sin, and the strength of temptation under some new circumstances
which may hereafter arise? As far as your own strength is concerned there is
indeed much reason for that fear, but you know whom you have believed, whose
strength has been put forth for you, on whose arm you have leant in the past,
and therefore although your race were to become far more arduous than it is
now, although hundreds of difficulties now unforeseen should spring up into
being, yet you will not doubt His love, or distrust His power. What you have
learnt of His past faithfulness and love forbids you to be apprehensive for the
future; you will trust and not be afraid, knowing that you can do all things
through Christ who strengtheneth you. The question is worthy of serious
consideration, especially by those who, convinced of the vanity of earth’s
gratifications, and of the value of the Christian portion, are yet withholding
their hearts from Christ, and are yet unwilling to be wholly His. This, indeed,
is the land of peace wherein you trust; but is yours indeed a true peace which will
abide? Peace is truly offered, reconciliation provided, all ready on God’s
part. Peace will surely follow upon pardon--upon the purging away of sin in the
blood of Jesus, but is that peace truly yours now? (J. H. Holford, M. A.)
Then how wilt thou do In
the swelling of Jordan?--
The swelling of Jordan
I. The historical
significance and primary meaning of the words. Like many of the names that
occur in Old Testament Scripture, that of Jeremiah--“raised up,” or “appointed
by God,”--has a peculiar significance, if we consider the duties, important,
yet hazardous, he was called upon to discharge during successive reigns.
Jeremiah was very young when the Word of the Lord first came to him, in the
thirteenth year of the reign of Josiah, while he was resident at Anathoth, his
native city. There, after the prophetic gift was imparted, he continued to live
for several years, until the hostility, not only of his fellow townsmen, but of
the members of his own family having been aroused, on account, probably, of the
holiness of his life, and the fidelity of his remonstrances, he quitted
Anathoth, and took up his residence at Jerusalem. The finding of the Book of
the Law, five years after he had begun to prophesy, must have had a powerful
influence on the mind of Jeremiah, in whom, doubtless, the young and
right-minded king Josiah found valuable help in the efforts he put forth with a
view to promote national reformation. No sooner, however, was the influence of
the court in favour of true religion withdrawn, than Jeremiah became an object
of attack, as he had doubtless been long an object of dislike, on the part of
those whose anger had been roused by his rebukes. This bitterness of opposition
continued during successive reigns, and at various times his life was threatened.
At the commencement of the reign of Zedekiah, he was “put in confinement by
Pashur, the chief governor of the house of the Lord”; but he seems soon to have
been liberated, for we find that he was not in prison at the time when
Nebuchadnezzar’s army commenced the siege of Jerusalem. The prophet Jeremiah
had severe trials and manifold difficulties and discouragements to contend
against. His counsels were rejected, and his voice was lifted up in the name of
Jehovah seemingly in vain; his soul yearned with solicitude and tender
affection towards those who turned a deaf ear to his admonitory voice, despised
his “counsels,” and would have none of the reproofs he was commissioned to
utter. By footmen some understand the Philistines and Edomites, whose armies were
composed principally of infantry, and by “horses” the Chaldeans, who had
abundance of cavalry and chariots in their army, and who subsequently ravaged
Palestine, at the time of Nebuchadnezzar’s invasion. But whether such be the
force of the allusion or not, the gist of the argument seems to be as
follows:--if lesser trials seem hard to be borne; if earthly losses have a
sting of bitterness, and often inflict a severe wound; is there not need of
holy resolution, based on a sure foundation, when, in addition to minor ills,
as in the swelling of Jordan, which periodically overflowed its banks in the
time of harvest, men’s lives might be placed in jeopardy, their flocks exposed
to lions driven out of their lairs, and the produce of the harvest fields
submerged or swept away; so the more ordinary trials of life, which yet
demanded patience and meekness, would be followed by graver emergencies, such
as a heaven-derived and supported hope, resting on no insecure or shifting
foundation, but upon the Rock, the “Rock of Ages,” could alone enable men to
bear up under; when, so to speak, the heavens grew dark, the waters raged, the
banks were overflowed, the lashing hail fell, the earth “shook and trembled,”
the lightning glanced and the thunder rolled, as in the severity of an almost
tropical storm? “How wilt thou do in the swelling of Jordan?”
II. Practical
lessons, applicable to various classes of persons.
1. To those who are careless about religion and its claims. It were
almost ludicrous, if it were not also most melancholy, to notice man, who is
indebted to God for all that he possesses, thus standing to “defy the
Omnipotent in arms”; yet such is the attitude assumed by everyone who defies,
maligns, insults the Great Benefactor, who, if strong to save, is also mighty
to inflict just and condign punishment upon His foes. “Now, consider this,”
says the Psalmist, “ye that forget God, lest I tear you in pieces, and there be
none to deliver.”
2. To the undecided. The position resembles that of a man on shifting
sand, liable to the encroachment of the swiftly flowing stream. Ah! if at
certain times uneasiness could not be banished, but care ate as a canker into
the heart of what had the semblance of joy; an angry God, as it were, seen
above; the abyss of darkness opening beneath; “blackness of darkness,” as if
around; what need of arriving at a proper and satisfactory decision! Now,
while, mercy can be found; while God’s invitation through Christ is heard, of
“turning to the Stronghold as a prisoner of hope”; for if lesser difficulties
have been perplexing; if grief and disappointment have already planted furrows
on the brow, “what shall be the end of them that will not obey the Gospel of
God”; who will not comply with a Saviour’s bidding, nor give their minds to the
truth, nor allow of the Holy Spirit’s action upon the heart?
3. To such as are living in antagonism and opposition to God’s holy
mind and will. Judgment may appear to be deferred; it is impending
nevertheless--God hath spoken it.
4. To doubting Christians. Pilgrim, come: there “is bread enough, and
to spare.” Tempted one, come: strength shall be given and decision imparted to
repel the evil suggestion, as Paul at Melita cast aside the viper that sprang
out of the fire, and fastened upon his hand. Mourner, approach; the Friend of
mourners can support under earthly blanks and losses. (A. R. Bonar.)
The swelling of Jordan
I. Certain
circumstances which make death more appalling than any other calamity.
1. Death must be met alone.
2. Not only the solace of thine accustomed society, but every other
temporal result will then fail thee.
3. Death ushers us into a new and strange world. Well may flesh and
blood shrink from the prospect of being effectually unhinged from all that is
usual and accustomed--effectually divested of every material and earthly
association, and of dipping its foot in the brink of that cold river, whose
flood is appointed to roll over the head of all flesh.
4. Our great Enemy, as in all our trials so in this especially, will
be at hand to improve it to our ruin.
II. To every
sincere believer in Christ the horror with which the above circumstances invest
death is entirely dispelled.
1. Although the Christian, in the trying hour of dissolution, cannot,
any more than others, fall back upon the sympathy and support of his fellow
men, still he is not left in the pitiful plight of the worldling and sinner to
encounter death alone (Psalms 23:4).
2. What is it to him, if all earthly stays and confidences be broken
up? He has not built his hopes of eternity on refuges of lies. He has “an
anchor of the soul sure and stedfast.” He has first the sure word of promise,
assuring him that his Lord will be with him when he passes through the rivers (Isaiah 43:2). And then he has the
gracious and glorious work of atonement and mediation, upon which is based the
everlasting covenant which God has made with him in Christ, and from the
consideration of which he may draw up endless supplies of peace and
satisfaction, even in those dark hours of disquietude.
3. It follows next to speak of the acquaintance which the Christian’s
soul has during life contracted with the new sphere into which the swelling of
Jordan bears him away. Some regards and respects to things terrestrial he must
have entertained as dwelling on the earth--but this home, the home of his
affections, has never, since he became a sincere Christian, been situated here
below. This is only the house of his pilgrimage, and he accounts it so to be.
While walking on the earth he has his “conversation in heaven.” Accordingly
death ushers him into no strange scene, and introduces him to no strange
company. No, he is already “come to Mount Sion,” etc. (Hebrews 12:22-24).
4. The “Lion of the tribe of Judah” is at hand to wrestle with the
lion who “walketh about seeking whom he may devour,” and to bear away triumphantly
from the conflict his own redeemed servant without the loss of a hair of his
head, thus asserting his claim to “divide a portion with the great, and to
divide the spoil with the strong.” (Dean Goulburn.)
The swellings of Jordan
If troubles, slow as footmen, surpass us, what will we do when
they take the feet of horses? and if now in our lifetime we are beaten back and
submerged of sorrows because we have not the religion of Jesus to comfort us,
what will we do when we stand in death, and we feel all around about us “the
swelling of Jordan”? What a sad thing it is to see men all unhelped of God,
going out to fight giants of trouble; no closet of prayer in which to retreat,
no promise of mercy to soothe the soul, no rock of refuge in which to hide from
the blast. Oh, when the swift coursers of trouble are brought up, champing and
panting for the race, and the reins are thrown upon their necks, and the
lathered flanks at every spring feel the stroke of the lash, what can we on
foot do with them? How can we compete with them? If, having run with the
footmen, they wearied us, how can we contend with horses? We have all yielded
to temptation. We have been surprised afterwards that so small an inducement
could have decoyed us from the right. How insignificant a temptation has
sometimes captured our soul. And if that is so, my dear brother, what will it
be when we come to stand in the presence of temptation that prostrated a David,
and a Moses, and a Peter, and some of the mightiest men in all God’s kingdom?
If the footmen are too much for us, won’t the odds be more fearful against us
when we contend with horses? But my text suggests something in advance of
anything I have said. We must all quit this life. Oh, when the great tides of
eternity arise about us, and fill the soul and surround it, and sweep it out
towards rapture or woe, ah, that will be “the swelling of Jordan.” Our natural
courage won’t hold us out then. However familiar we may have been with scenes
of mortality, however much we may have screwed our courage up, we want
something more than natural resources. When the northeast wind blows off from
the sea of death, it will put out all earthly lights. The lamp of the Gospel,
God-lighted, is the only lamp that can stand in that blast. The weakest arm holding
that shall not be confounded; the strongest one neglecting that shall stumble
and die. Oh, I rejoice to know that so many of God’s children have gone through
that pass without a shudder. Someone said to a dying Christian: “Isn’t it hard
for you to get out of this world?” “Oh, no,” he says, “it is easy dying, it is
blessed dying, it is glorious dying”; and then he pointed to a clock on the
wall, and he said: “the last two hours in which I have been dying, I have had
more joy than all the years of my life.” General Fisk came into the hospital
after the battle, and there were many seriously wounded, and there was one man
dying, and the general said: “Ah, my dear fellow, you seem very much wounded. I
am afraid you are not going to get well.” “No,” said the soldier, “I am not
going to get well, but I feel very happy.” And then he looked up into the
general’s face, and said: “I am going to the front!” But there is one step
still in advance suggested by this subject. If this religion of Christ is so
important in life, and so important in the last hours of life, how much more
important it will be in the great eternity. Alas! for those who have made no
preparation for the future! When the sharp-shod hoofs of eternal disaster come
up panting and swift to go over them, how will they contend with horses? And
when the waves of their wretchedness rise up, white and foamy, under the
swooping of eternal storms and the billows become more wrathful and dash more
high, oh, what, what will they do “amid the swelling of Jordan”? (T.
De Witt Talmage.)
Are you prepared to die
I. This is an
exceedingly practical question. How wilt thou do? is the inquiry. There are
some subjects which are more or less matters of pure faith and personal
feeling; and though all Christian doctrines bear more or less directly upon the
Christian life, yet they are not what is commonly meant by practical subjects.
Our text, however, brings us face to face with a matter which is essentially a
matter of doing and of acting: it asks how we mean to conduct ourselves in the
hour of death. Christians may differ from me on some points, but I am sure that
here we are united in belief--we must die, and ought not to die unprepared.
II. It is
undoubtedly a personal question. How wilt “thou” do? It individualises us, and
makes us each one to come face to face with a dying hour. Now we all need this,
and it will be well for each one of us to look for a minute into the grave. We
are too apt to regard all men as mortal but ourselves. The ancient warrior who
wept because before a hundred years were passed he knew his immense army would
be gone, and not a man remain behind to tell the tale, would have been wiser if
he had wept also for himself, and left alone his bloody wars, and lived as a
man who must one day die, and find after death a day of judgment. Each one of
you must die. We all come into the world one by one, and will go out of it also
alone. We had better therefore take the question up as individuals, seeing that
it is one in which we shall be dealt with singly, and be unable then to claim
or use the help of an earthly friend.
III. It is one of
the most solemn questions. Death and life are stern and awful realities. To say
that anything “is a matter of life and death,” is to bring one of the most
emphatic and solemn subjects under our notice. Now, the question we are
considering is of this character, and we must deal with it as it becomes us,
when we investigate a subject involving the everlasting interest of souls.
IV. This question
was put by way of rebuke to the prophet Jeremiah. He seems to have been a
little afraid of the people among whom he dwelt. They had evidently persecuted
him very much, and laughed him to scorn; but God tells him to make his face
like flint, and not to care for them, for, says He, If thou art afraid of them,
“how wilt thou do in the swelling of Jordan?” This ought to be a rebuke to
every Christian who is subject to the fear of man. There is an old proverb,
that “he is a great fool that is laughed out of his coat,” and there was an improvement
on it, that “he was a greater fool who was laughed out of his skin”; and there
is another, that “he is the greatest fool of all who is laughed out of his
soul.” He that will be content to be damned in order to be fashionable, pays
dear indeed for what he gets. Oh, to dare to be singular, if to be singular is
to be right; but if you are afraid of man, what will you do in the swelling of
Jordan? The same rebuke might be applied to us when we get fretful under the
little troubles of life. You have losses in business, vexations in the
family--you have all crosses to carry--but my text comes to you, and it says,
“If you cannot bear this, how will you do in the swelling of Jordan?” When one
of the martyrs, whose name is the somewhat singular one of Pommily, was
confined previous to his burning, his wife was also taken up upon the charge of
heresy. She, good woman, had resolved to die with her husband, and she
appeared, as far as most people could judge, to be very firm in her faith. But
the jailer’s wife, though she had no religion, took a merciful view of the case
as far as she could do so, and thought, “I am afraid this woman will never
stand the test, she will never burn with her husband, she has neither faith nor
strength enough to endure the trial”; and therefore, one day calling her out
from her cell, she said to her, “Lass, run to the garden and fetch me the key
that lies there.” The poor woman ran willingly enough; she took the key up and
it burned her fingers, for the jailer’s wife had made it red hot; she came
running back crying with pain. “Ay, wench,” said she, “if you cannot bear a
little burn in your hand, how will you bear to be burned in your whole body?”
and this, I am sorry to add, was the means of bringing her to recant the faith
which she professed, but which never had been in her heart. I apply the story
thus: If we cannot bear the little trifling pangs which come upon us in our
ordinary circumstances, which are but as it were the burning of your hands,
what shall we do when every pulse beats pain, and every throb is an agony, and
the whole tenement begins to crumble about the spirit that is so soon to be
disturbed?
V. The question
may be put as a matter of caution. There are some who have no hope, no faith in
Christ. Now I think, if they will look within at their own experience, they
will find that already they are by no means completely at ease. The pleasures
of this world are very sweet; but how soon they cloy, if they do not sicken the
appetite. After the night of merriment there is often the morning of regret.
“Who hath woe? who hath redness of eyes? They that tarry long at the wine; they
that go to seek mixed wine.” It is an almost universal confession that the joys
of earth promise more than they perform, and that in looking back upon them,
the wisest must confess with Solomon, “Vanity of vanities, all is vanity.” Now
if these things seem to be vanity while you are in good bodily health, how will
they look when you are in sickness? If vanity while you can enjoy them, what
will they appear when you must say farewell to them all?
VI. I use the
question as exciting meditation in the breasts of those who have given their
hearts to Christ, and who consequently are prepared to die whenever the summons
may come. Well, what do we mean to do, how shall we behave ourselves when we
come to die? I sat down to try and think this matter over, but I cannot, in the
short time allotted to me, even give you a brief view of the thoughts that
passed through my mind. I began thus, “How shall I do in the swelling of
Jordan?” Well, as a believer in Christ, perhaps, I may never come there at all,
for there are some that will be alive and remain at the coming of the Son of
Man, and these will never die. A sweet truth, which we place first in our
meditation. I may not sleep, but I must and shall be changed. Then I thought
again, “How shall I do in the swelling of Jordan?” I may go through it in the
twinkling of an eye. When Ananias, martyr, knelt to lay his white head upon the
block, it was said to him as he closed his eyes to receive the stroke, “Shut
thine eyes a little, old man, and immediately thou shalt see the light of God.”
I could envy such a calm departing. Sudden death, sudden glory; taken away in
Elijah’s chariot of fire, with the horses driven at the rate of lightning, so
that the spirit scarcely knows that it has left the clay, before it sees the
brightness of the beatific vision. Well, that may take away--some of the alarm
of death, the thought that we may not be even a moment in the swelling of
Jordan. Then again, I thought, if I must pass through the swelling of Jordan,
yet the real act of death takes no time. We hear of suffering on a dying bed;
the suffering is all connected with life, it is not death. A dying bed is
sometimes very painful; with certain diseases, and especially with strong men,
it is often hard for the body and soul to part asunder. But it has been my
happy lot to see some deaths so extremely pleasing, that I could not help
remarking, that it were worth while living, only for the sake of dying as some
have died. Well, then, as I cannot tell in what physical state I may be when I
come to die, I just tried to think again, how shall I do in the swelling of the
Jordan? I hope I shall do as others have done before me, who have built on the
same rock, and had the same promises to be their succour. They cried “Victory!”
So shall I, and after that die quietly and in peace. If the same transporting
scene may not be mine, I will at least lay my head upon my Saviour’s bosom, and
breathe my life out gently there.
VII. “How wilt thou
do in the swelling of Jordan?” may be well used by way of warning. You grant
that you will die, and you may die soon. Is it not foolish to be living in this
world without a thought of what you will do at last? A man goes into an inn,
and as soon as he sits down he begins to order his wine, his dinner, his bed;
there is no delicacy in season which he forgets to bespeak, there is no luxury
which he denies himself. He stops at the inn for some time. By and by there
comes in a bill, and he says, “Oh, I never thought of that--I never thought of
that.” “Why,” says the landlord, “here is a man who is either a born fool or
else a knave. What I never thought of the reckoning--never thought of settling
day!” And yet this is how some of you live. You have this, and that, and the
other thing in this world’s inn (for it is nothing but an inn) and you have
soon to go your way, and yet you have never thought of settling day! “Well,”
says one, “I was casting up my accounts this morning.” Yes, I remember a
minister making this remark when he heard of one that east up his accounts on
Sunday. He said, “I hope that is not true, sir.” “Yes,” he said, “I do cast up
my accounts on Sunday.” “Ah, well,” he said, “the day of judgment will be spent
in a similar manner--in casting up accounts, and it will go ill with those
people who found no other time in which to serve themselves except the time
which was given them that they might serve God.” You have either been a
dishonest man, or else you must be supremely foolish, to be spending every day
in this world’s inn, and yet to be ignoring the thought of the great day of
account. But remember, though you forget it, God forgets not.
VIII. Before I close
I must guide your thoughts to what is the true preparation for death. Three
things present themselves to my mind as being our duty in connection with the
dying hour. First seek to be washed in the Red Sea of the dear Redeemer’s
blood, come in contact with the death of Christ, and by faith in it you will be
prepared to meet your own. Again, learn of the Apostle Paul to die “daily.”
Practise the duty of self-denial and mortifying of the flesh till it shall
become a habit with you, and when you have to lay down the flesh and part with
everything, you will be only continuing the course of life you have pursued all
along. And as the last preparation for the end of life, I should advise a
continual course of active service and obedience to the command of God. I have
frequently thought that no happier place to die in could be found than one’s
post of duty. If I were a soldier, I think I should like to die as Wolfe died,
with victory shouting in my ear, or as Nelson died, in the midst of his
greatest success. Preparation for death does not mean going alone into the chamber
and retiring from the world, but active service, doing the duty of the day in
the day.” The best preparation for sleep, the healthiest soporific, is hard
work, and one of the best things to prepare us for sleeping in Jesus, is to
live in Him an active life of going about doing good. (C. H. Spurgeon.)
Who shall carry me over the river
A prominent business man thus expressed himself to a Christian
minister: “I am interested in Church matters, and always glad to see ministers
when they call. But I have thought the subject over long and carefully, and
have come to the deliberate decision that I have no need of Jesus.” A single
week had not passed before that man was taken sick. His disease was accompanied
with such inflammation of the throat as forbade his speaking at all. This
enforced silence continued until the hour, of death, when he was enabled to
utter simply this one despairing whisper: Who shall carry me over the river?”
The swelling of Jordan
These words are a remonstrance which God addresses to His prophet,
Jeremiah. He had the most shrinking, sensitive nature of all the Hebrew
prophets. Yet his task was to make a stand for God in the time of his nation’s
direst need. Babylon, the great heathen power, had thrown a cord round the neck
of Israel which it tightened every year. Its forces were closing round
Jerusalem with the slow but sure pressure of a military advance. And the people
all the while were unaroused, like sleeping children in a house that has caught
fire. The politicians trusted to their diplomacy; they hoped to fight the brute
force of the enemy with their wits. The priests and the prophets drugged the
conscience of the nation with the facile phrases of a lazy and stupid trust.
Jeremiah stood out alone, like Athanasius against the world, hated alike by the
statesmen and the leaders of the religious world. There are usually, we say,
two sides to every question, and the case for Jeremiah’s foes was something
like this. He seemed to them a tiresome herald of ill, prating always of
fateful things because he had a gloomy nature. He seemed to be without any
patriotic feeling, constantly saying hard things about his own country, and
glorifying Babylon as the avenging instrument of God. So it had come about,
long ere the last crisis of Jerusalem, that the Jews felt a bitter hatred of
Jeremiah. We have read (Jeremiah 11:18; Jeremiah 12:6) how, somewhat early in his
history, some of them tried to kill him. The prophet was paying a visit to his
native village of Anathoth, a few miles from Jerusalem. He was ignorant of
danger. And all the while his own townsmen and brethren were plotting his
death. But for some special providence of God his career would have reached a
too early close. But now, when the danger is past, a strange thing is seen.
There is no record of any psalm of deliverance to help the praise of our later
generations. But, as if in its place, there falls on the prophet one of those
terrible moods of depression when, in Bunyan’s language, he is held in the
grasp of Giant Despair and thrown into Doubting Castle. Why must he face with
single hand the troops of the wicked? Why cannot God strike in and cut short
the struggle? He who by nature was sensitive as a reed became by God’s grace as
an iron pillar and a brazen wall. And so it is here. In the words of the text,
the demon of depression is driven off and retires for a season. Jeremiah
crushes the cowardly thoughts that had arisen within him by the vision of
sterner trials in the future. The brush with the men of Anathoth is a small
affair, a mere race with footmen; Jerusalem in the days to come will see him
try his speed against horses. Soon he will look back to the present time as to
a mild land of peace, girdled by a summer-dried river. Ah, you say, we have
little in common with a great prophet. He was set to do a loud-resounding task,
while our days are passed in obscurity, far away from the roar of a battle of
the nations. Yes, but all human lives run up to a centre. The inner struggle of
every soul is the same, whether it is fought out in the cottage, or in the tent
of the soldier, or in the fiery heart of the prophet. It has come readily to
men to liken human life to a stream descending to the sea. But it is not the
precise image of the text, which rather compares the life of man to the flat
meadows that adjoin some mighty stream. For long months of the year there is a
time of holy quiet. The flowers are gay, the grass is green, the river murmurs
gently as if singing a song of rest, the boys and girls are shouting at their
play. But one day a change seems to come over the stream. Its gentle murmur
swells into a threatening roar. The days of dreadful ease are gone; desolation
looks men in the face with a grey and grim reality; the evil days have come.
That is the image of the text. What of its practical meaning? There are times
when our duty seems almost easy, when it is not hard to beat off temptation.
Such times are our “land of peace.” But there are other times, when the need is
sore and the contest cruel. Every nerve is strained. Such times are for us as
“the swelling of Jordan.” The text puts into heightened and rhythmic words a
very obvious truth, which surely wins emphasis and illumination from the stern
history to which it belongs. It should make us cease moaning over our trivial
griefs, when we find that God speaks so lightly of a serious trouble. Jeremiah
had barely escaped with his life, yet his foretaste of the bitterness of death
is compared to “a land of peace.” He gets no petting, and is promised no relief
from such trial in the future. He is merely asked to reflect on the principle
that underlies all moral heroism. “He that is faithful in that which is least
is faithful also in much.” Let us follow out this principle in two or three
illustrations. Take first of all the everyday calls of duty, what Keble has
named “the trivial round, the common task.” To all of us, at some time in our
lives, there come periods of crisis when a heavy demand is made on our store of
courage and endurance. Then it is that the dire need sifts our character and
declares the moral poverty or wealth. As the man is, so is his strength. The
text tells us that this great clay of “the swelling of Jordan” is bound
together with our easy days in “the land of peace.” Those deeds of vast renown,
which the grace of God calls out on occasion, do not come flashing out of a
background of moral laxity or shame. They are not idle, lawless lights of
heaven, coming we know not whence, going we know not whither. They have been
prepared for by long and quiet days of lowly service. In the “Character of the
Happy Warrior” Wordsworth insists that a soldier’s brave feats of daring in
battle are just the outcome of faithfulness to duty in days of peace. In “the
mild concerns of ordinary life” the genuine hero is training for a mightier
task. Suddenly he confronts some awful moment, weighty with solemn issues. Then
the hidden strength leaps forth. He is “attired with sudden brightness, like a
man inspired.” Water; we say, does not rise higher than its source, and
certainly men and women do not leap to a height and marvel of self-sacrifice
until their daily practice has subdued them to a resolute self-mastery. Take,
as a second illustration of the principle of the text, our everyday experiences
of temptation and moral defeat. The man who brings his conscience to bear on
his everyday tasks is training for higher things in a future that may rush on him
at any moment. But there is also the sad opposite of that truth. Neither for
good nor for evil can we wholly cut ourselves away from our past life. The
years that are no more have a part on shaping the years that are to be. The
fall from grace today was easier because yesterday you did not strive mightily
against sin. Habits and desires move on to their climax and fulfilment. Alike
in the kingdom of God and the kingdom of sin, you have no permission to stand
still. Every day of our lives puts us to some proof or trial. These things are
so, yet it is only in our high moments that we fully realise and act upon them.
We forget that the oft-repeated story of a ruined life tells not of one great
fall, but of many little ones. Men overlook the tiny breaches which sin has
made in the wall of resistance. They are weary of this endless running with the
footmen. After long days there steals on them the drowsiness of the enchanted
ground. But the weariness is fatal, as the soft sleep of the tired traveller
amid the falling snow. Let us remember that those periods of moral crisis
struck even upon the stainless Christ. He was tempted, an apostolic writer
tells us, in all points as we are. But temptation concentrated its powers in
great turning points of His history, in the wilderness and in the agony of the
garden, in the remonstrance of a chosen apostle and in the hour of darkness on
the Cross. All the disastrous forces with which the moral atmosphere was
charged gathered themselves together and burst in furious storm. And the life
of Jesus resembles in this the life of men. All our history is in part a
history of temptation. But there are times in the lives of all of us when
temptation concentrates its powers. Our life is no longer a series of
skirmishes. Now at length it is a pitched battle with the enemy in full armour,
and all his forces set in array against us. (D. Conner, M. A.)
Verse 9
Mine heritage is unto Me as a speckled bird.
A speckled bird
Mine (God’s) heritage is unto Me as a speckled bird. As an owl,
say some, that loveth not the light; as a peacock, say others, as oft changed
as moved. God, that could not endure miscellany seed, nor linsey-woolsey, in
Israel, can less endure that His people should be as a speckled bird, here of
one colour, and there of another; or as a cake not turned (Hosea 5:4). (John Trapp.)
God’s people as speckled birds
“Mine heritage (the godly man’s) is unto me as a speckled bird.”
When living at Cambridge Mr. Spurgeon was appointed to preach at a village lust
outside the city, and during the day, after much reading and meditation, he was
unable to light upon a suitable text, and was, as Bunyan would say, “much
tumbled up and down” in his thoughts. Rising from prayer and the reading of the
Scriptures he walked to the window, and, looking out, espied on the other side
of the narrow street a solitary canary upon the roof ridge, surrounded by a
crowd of sparrows that were all pecking at it. At that moment the verse quoted
flashed into his mind, and he started off upon his country walk, restful in
heart and mind, and composed his sermon as he journeyed, the main points of his
discourse being the peculiarity of God’s people and the persecutions they
suffer in consequence. He thus speaks of the episode himself: “I preached with
freedom and ease to myself, and, I believe, with comfort to my rustic audience.
The text was sent to me, and if the ravens did not bring it, certainly the
sparrows did.” (Chas. Spurgeon.)
──《The Biblical Illustrator》