May
Day Unto Day
by E. Littleton, Jr.

MAY 1
“The LORD taketh pleasure in them that fear him,
in those that hope in his mercy”—Ps. 147:11.
(fourth meditation—see April 27-29)

At this season of the year, providence usually seems to smile upon the face of the earth. “The first day of May,” we are accustomed to observe on this day. How appropriate at such a season for the soul—if such be its privilege—to be enabled to sweetly dwell upon the thought that the smile of the Lord is upon it. He taketh pleasure in the persons of His own. They are His. A parent takes pleasure in the person of his child. He also takes pleasure in many things connected with them. What things connected with His children does the Lord take pleasure in? For we may surely depend upon it that if He takes pleasure in their persons there will be found something created in them in which He is likely to find pleasure. He takes pleasure in their affections. He has no unnatural children (after born). They all love Him. The love of His children is very dear to Him. Do we ever feel love flowing out to Him? He takes divine pleasure in that. There is another especial thing in them which He takes pleasure in: it is their desire to be like Him. All the characteristics of His divine nature He delights in, and their desire to be like Him is well-pleasing in His sight. He is (often with apparent cross-dispensations) engaged in more and more bringing this about, and their longings for its manifest increase are pleasing to Him—especially as He knows He does not intend to disappoint them. He takes pleasure in their hope in Him: especially their hope in His mercy, for He delights in mercy (Micah 7:18). He created the hope. He implanted it. It is a tender plant of His own planting, and its buddings and beautiful freshenings and indeed all the varied manifestations of this beautiful plant of the soul He takes pleasure in: so much so that He will cause it to grow till it ends in a blessed fruition in glory. He takes pleasure in their graces. These graces in their souls are said to be His garden, in which He walks, and is said to gather from them His pleasant fruits (Cant. 4:16; 6:2, 3; 5:1). He takes pleasure in their prayers. Is there a spirit of prayer amongst us today; will there be as we shortly kneel together? How sweet, now, then, and at all times and how encouraging, to know that, as our hearts are lifted up to Him in prayer, He regards it with holy pleasure. Will He not listen to that in which He takes pleasure? He takes pleasure in their meeting together to think upon His name: so much so that a “book of remembrance is written” of it (Mal. 3:16). There are many things in them in which He takes pleasure, and they are further important to us as they manifest to the subjects of them that they possess the features of His own children.

“How sweet to wait upon the Lord.
While He fulfils His gracious word;
To seek His face, and not in vain,
To be beloved and love again!”(Gadsby’s, 387).

MAY 2
“Who is a God like unto thee, that pardoneth iniquity,
and passeth by the transgression of the remnant of his heritage?
he retaineth not his anger for ever, because he delighteth in mercy”—Micah 7:18.

And this God is ours! at least, such is our hope, at times; although often it appears really too much to be possible; and were it not that He has given us “exceeding great and precious promises” to feed our hopes (2 Pet. 1:4), we should be at a loss to credit it. As will be seen from these words, He is one who exactly meets our case. How wonderful! That the great centre and sustainer of all things—our only possible hope—should be exactly the God who meets our every requirements. There is nothing missing in Him to meet our case. Our every difficulty is found provided for in His character. He might have been to us part of what He is only—might even have saved us from the horrors of hell, and given us various conceivable, yet miserable, mere respites from the eternity of the pit: any kind of future lives short of heaven. But He fulfils all our needs, all our longings, all our yearnings after a blissful immortality with Him: the author of our souls’ brightest hopes. We have committed iniquity the sentence of which is eternal death; we are—out of Him—incarnate sin and pollution, the result of which is absolute unfitness for a life in heaven. But His character is such that it impelled Him to devise a means to blot out all this awful aggregation of obstacles to our loving Him and His manifesting His love to us and taking us to Himself. Having done this, He now passes it all by with pleasure. How wonderful! Nothing but mercy of such magnitude as (out of Him) earth never saw, nor could produce, would meet our case and needs. The veil is drawn from His character—He reveals Himself: and behold we find He delights in the very thing which is our supreme need—Mercy. We desire—after all the hopes based on all these things have been raised—to be sure that He will not leave us, will not forget us and leave us behind, and we are shewn that we are His heritage, whom, therefore, (having all power) He is certain to eternally possess Himself of. This is a powerful expression of the feeling of a heart filled with our hopes: “Who is a God like unto Thee!”

“Now, for the love I bear His name,
What was my gain I count my loss;
My former pride I call my shame,
And nail my glory to His cross.
Yes, and I must and will esteem
All things but loss for Jesus’ sake;
O may my soul be found in Him,
And of His righteousness partake.” (Gadsby’s, 112).

MAY 3
“Who is a God like unto thee, that pardoneth iniquity,
and passeth by the transgression of the remnant of his heritage?
he retaineth not his anger for ever, because he delighteth in mercy”—Micah 7:18.
(second meditation)

And, as we said yesterday, our hope is that this God is ours. Today we would desire to dwell a little more upon the greatness of the blessing of having such a God, and upon the fittedness of His greatness for such cases as ours. We feel, then, in further meditating upon this, that an additional characteristic of it is that He is able to lead the objects of His desires through untold difficulties, through unnumbered dangers, through apparently impossible obstacles—even through all the battlings of devils themselves against them and Him—right on through their every path—how far? Even until they reach Him in their eternal habitation. This is frequently dwelt upon, but to fully realise it is another matter. Amongst many things concerning it, this, however, is true: there is none like unto Him. No other potentate—no other being whatsoever—mortal or immortal—can be sure of doing any such thing; and this includes Satan himself. To our God none is able to say, “what doest thou?” On the contrary, to all others there is someone who can. Satan himself, great though his power be, is unable to fix upon a mortal and say: “I have set my choice upon thee, and will certainly, and through all opposing obstacles, bring thee to my eternal dungeon.” For the hope of poor mortals, this is a great fact, and a great mercy. With regard to it, may we not justly exclaim: “who is a God like unto Thee?” Either for the protection of His children from danger—temporal or spiritual; or for the wonder-working bringing of them through and finally out of a life of enmity and sometimes of almost devilish rebellion against Him, into a state of grace: to do this, and also to deepen and refine and strengthen their graces afterwards, the performance of literal wonders is frequently necessary—if not constantly (as many of these workings are invisible to man). The workings of apparent contradictions to the nature of things, and still oftener to reason, are necessary. Their complications, and the power, wisdom and far reaching sight needed are such—including power to read the hearts and intents of both men and devils—that only omnipotence supreme over all things, and all beings—including men and devils—in heaven, earth, and hell, can perform these. But even this He is sufficient for. There is none beside who is. But He is sufficient. How exactly and completely, therefore, does He meet our needs? of whom our thankful hearts are bound to again exclaim: ‘‘who is a God like unto Thee!’’

“Life, death and hell, and worlds unknown,
Hang on His firm decree;
He sits on no precarious throne,
Nor borrows leave to be.
His providence unfolds the book,
And makes His counsels shine;
Each opening leaf, and every stroke,
Fulfils some deep design.
Here He exalts neglected worms
To sceptres and a crown;
And there the following page He turns,
And treads the monarch down.”
(Gadsby’s, 4).

MAY 4
“Who is a God like unto thee, that pardoneth iniquity,
and passeth by the transgression of the remnant of his heritage?
he retaineth not his anger for ever, because he delighteth in mercy”—Micah 7:18.
(third meditation)

For what we trust may be our edification, we would ponder a little further today upon the fittedness for our needs of the greatness of the God of our hopes. Is there not yet something very mighty which was and is needful for us? Our necessities—when dwelt upon—are overwhelming to mortal thought. They put us into a state of need wherein we require a God full of perfections which must be the amazement even of devils themselves—and which must often be as dismaying to them as they are amazing: perfections which are the amazement of even the angelic hosts (1 Pet. 1:12). Such we need. And such are found in our God. Who is a God like unto Him? For—further—this was and is our position of great necessity. We had no existence. Our present existence—natural and spiritual—depends and has depended upon things which either have not, or formerly had not, existence, and had to be brought into existence. Our future life, both here and eternally, depend upon things which we have no power to either bring into or keep in existence. We need, in short, a Creator. Unless our God is one who can create, we are—in every way—lost and undone. Who can create? We may search earth, air, heaven, the seas, the bowels of the earth, and hell—we may search amongst men, angels, and devils. But our need cannot be found. “Who is a God like unto Thee?” He can create. He can create whatsoever He please. He can create whatsoever we need. What do we need? Do we need the creation of a way of deliverance from some overwhelming enemy? Do we need it? He can create it. Do we need a stronger hope? We cannot: earth, heaven or hell cannot—but He can, create it. Do we need a clean heart within us? He can create it. Do we need more faith? Is our supply grown small? Does it seem to be gone? Are we tottering to the ground for want of it? O, let us not go knocking at the door of Despair: our God is just fitted for all our needs—He is a creator. He can create it. Do we need eyesight to behold “the King in His beauty?” He can create it. What do we need eyesight to see? He can create it. Have we not eyesight strong enough to “read our title clear to mansions in the sky?” He can create it. The god of this world and of that below cannot do such things for his people. There is no god like the God of Jeshurun (Deut. 33:26). Do we need strength to run the race? Strength to serve Him? Strength to bear our cross? What, strength is it we need? He is a Creator. He can create it. Can He create? But will He? Amongst other things, He is a God who both hears and answers prayer. Is He this too? How fitted then He is for us! “Who is a God like unto Thee!” But this subject in its blessed extent is such that the further pondering of its precious fields must be left to the gracious reader.

“The Lord, descending from above,
Invites His children near,
While power, and truth, and boundless love.
Display their glories here.” (Gadsby’s, 5).

MAY 5
“…before me there was no God formed, neither shall there be after me”—Is. 43:10.

We have of late been considering what God is to us; the blessedness of what is revealed to us as residing in Him; that there is no god like unto Him (Micah 7:18). We have of late been considering this. But this is not the first occasion of our doing so. It is the frequent ground of thankful, at other times of peaceful and reposeful, and sometimes of rejoicing, meditation in the hearts of His people. The trust that He is our God in Christ, and the knowledge of what He is—of His character, and attributes, His love and mercy, form the foundation of any solid peace which we enjoy in our present lives. This is the lovingly inclined and glorious God whom we at present adore and beneath whose gracious sway we live. But—(comparing small things with great)—such, in measure, with regard to favour of present rule, was the case with the Children of Israel beneath the benevolent and favourable sway of the Ruler under whose kindness they dwelt in the time of Joseph. Yet, afterwards “there arose up a new King over Egypt, which knew not Joseph” (Ex. 1:8). Their condition ceased to be a happy one. Yea, they were plunged into the depths of unhappiness, misery, despair and cruelty. Why? Because another King arose after him. Their Ruler was changed. Indeed, their condition of peace, hope and favour under their first King would almost seem to have rendered more bitter their lot of misery under the following one. The lot of the Lord’s people under the God of their present trust is very blessed, favoured and filled with graciousness. But what of the future? What guarantees have they concerning succeeding dispensations? Will any king “arise after Him who knows not Israel?” To some this may appear—and even be—an unheard of thought. But who can pierce into the depths of the universe—look into and explore the million and trillion-miled depths of space and worlds—discover the secrets of universal rule—speak face to face with the governing Source—and ascertain the secrets of Eternity? For an answer to this question of awful importance and solemnity we as much need a revelation from the Centre of all things as we do about the present—for He “dwelleth in the light which no man can approach unto; whom no man can see, nor hath seen” (1 Tim. 6:16). If He is silent and will give us none, we have none, and have no more guarantee of the future than Israel had of their future in the days of Joseph. But “let not our hearts be troubled” (John 14:1). He has answered us and given us this revelation. The future is revealed. It is secure beyond doubt. He Himself says: “Before me there was no god formed, neither shall there be after me.” Considering what He is to us, what a blessed assurance! The God in whom we now rejoice is the God whose love, mercy and power will surround us both now and even for evermore.

“Such are the wonders of our God,
And the amazing depths of grace.” (Gadsby’s, 17).

MAY 6
“The spirit of the Lord God is upon me; because the Lord hath anointed me to preach good tidings unto the meek”—Is. 61:1; Luke 4:18.

These were the words of Christ, in both places. In the second case He spoke when manifest in the flesh, in the first case by His Spirit, speaking through the prophet Isaiah, it being “the Spirit of Christ which was in them” which spoke by the prophets concerning Him (1 Pet. 1:11). What gracious words. How full of blessing to the poor (as it is expressed in Luke). If we wish to discover in a small compass what He came to do for the poor—and what He continues to do, and by virtue of the work which He then finished, is able to do—let us look at these “good tidings” which He here proclaims, remembering it is the King who speaks: and “where the word of the King is, there is power” (Eccl. 8:4). His declarations may be received as having authority and reliability. Who are interested in these “good tidings?” He came to “bind up the broken-hearted” (ver. 1). This is precious news to the broken-hearted. Behold the refuge of such. May such be enabled to flee to Him. He tells them in advance what they may expect from Him. They need not, like Esther, fear lest the sceptre be not held out to them when they approach the King’s throne, and they therefore be condemned to death for approaching. It is already extended to the poor broken-hearted comer. He declares also in advance what His answer to the petition will be. He is seated there expressly to “bind up the broken-hearted.” This is therefore “good tidings” indeed to the broken-hearted. Captives are also interested in these “good tidings” declared by the King. His purpose is to “proclaim liberty to the captives” (ver. 1). Such also may approach the Royal Court, with the knowledge that the sceptre is already graciously held out; and no prison bars can stop their approach. His ear can catch the breathings which proceed from the heaviest dungeon; and if their bodies cannot speed to Him, their spirits’ supplicating voices are enough. What good tidings to captives. Those who are in bonds are deeply interested in these “good tidings.” His mission is even to open the prison doors to them. What news! No matter how heavy the doors are; how strong the keeper of the prison is—even though it be Satan himself; no matter how heavy the bonds are, and how securely fastened. His purpose is to unfasten them—or else to break them asunder—to open the doors, and to bring the captive forth. His own word here recorded is even of itself a sufficient plea in approaching His Court and Throne, though much more there is which the captive may plead if he desire. Others are also interested in these “good tidings,” which must be left to gracious and needy seekers to further examine. But they are the charter of blessings which cover all the necessities of needy sinners in search of a compassionate Helper.

“The Lord delights to hear them cry.
And knock at mercy’s door;
’Tis grace that makes them feel their need.
And pray to Him for more.
Nor will He send them empty back,
Nor fright them from the door;
The Father has in Jesus stored
All blessings for the poor.” (Gadsby’s, 527).

MAY 7
“To give unto them beauty for ashes”—Is. 61:3.

Does any reader, whose memory perhaps at this moment is unable to recall the circumstances, enquire where these words originated, by whom they were uttered, and what relation or interest they have to us? They are the words of Christ, speaking by His Spirit through the Prophet (see 1 Pet. 1:11). The general sense of the portion in which they are included was also uttered a second time by Him when manifest in the flesh, as recorded in Luke 4:16-19. They are the declaration of the purpose of Christ towards poor sinners and of the mission concerning them for which He was empowered and anointed. They may therefore be relied upon as the declaration of a fact—the fact being what His intentions are concerning poor sinners; and whilst other things are evanescent and pass away, the word of the Lord does not (1 Pet. 1:23-25). This declaration, and the fact stated in it, therefore, stand today as firm and valid as when uttered. The value of this fact is as current and as certain today as that of a new Bank of England note. What it involves and promises we would consider a little. It guarantees that upon poor sinners a gift will be bestowed, which is—beauty for ashes. This is a gift worthy of the kingly giver. What are the ashes which we possess: and what the beauty promised in exchange? We may make brief work of the matter generally by saying that we possess nothing but ashes, and that, therefore, any beauty possessed or to be possessed by us must come from Him, and is the fulfilment of this promise. The fall reduced man to ashes. The ruins of the fall are as certain as the ruins of Babylon and the ashes of Jericho. No one is able to discover any beauty in the ashes of Jericho and no beauty is to be found in the ruins of the fall. It is all corruption, all dust, all ashes: and whatsoever even bears the resemblance of permanence and beauty is fundamentally dust and ashes—dust it is and unto dust it shall return (Gen. 3:19); the spirit of man in present manifestation being immeasurably worse even than his body, for it is openly seen to be corruption, pollution, and plainly the ashes of the fall, whilst the body does make some momentary shew of the contrary: though ashes it still is, as is declared in Gen. 3:19, and as the graveyard testifies. But the promise is that to poor sinners shall be given beauty for ashes. This is the new creation. Blessed is he that hath part in it.

“Strangely my soul art thou arranged
By the great Sacred Three;
In sweetest harmony of praise
Let all thy powers agree.” (Gadsby’s, 109).

MAY 8
“To give unto them beauty for ashes”—Is. 61:3.
(second meditation)

As stated more fully yesterday, these are the words of Christ (see 1 Pet. 1:11). They are His declaration of what He has undertaken to do for poor sinners. It may be profitable to consider further the total collection of ashes which everything we possess consists of, and in opposition to this, the gracious gift bestowed in exchange. Our nature, as named yesterday, is a complete collection of the ashes of the fall. No single blade of heavenly beauty is found growing in them. The first reason is that they are dead; death has fallen upon them: or rather, that is what has produced the ashes. There is, indeed, a life in them, but this is a life of corruption; and whatever rank weeds it produces please only the lost spirits and their king, and those natures on earth which he is able to work upon. Ashes is this nature—vile, polluted, the spring of everything deathly and hateful, and void of any beauty of spirit which is fit for the courts of heaven. But the Lord has promised to give to His redeemed ones beauty for ashes, and in fulfilment bestows upon them a newborn nature: they are born again, not of corruptible seed, but of incorruptible (1 Pet. 1:23). A nature of immortal beauty—the delight of heaven itself—is given them. Its manifestations, owing to the surroundings and crampings and weaknesses of the flesh, are small at present, but it is a “tree of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that He may be glorified,” as stated at the end of the verse, and is “His workmanship” (Eph. 2:10) and—beautiful now—is the beginning of a heavenly graciousness which will blossom forth into expanded beauty in the courts above. Is not this beauty for ashes? In this is seen a fulfilment of the promise. This is a beauty upon which the face of the Light of Heaven Himself can smile and is the purchase of the blood of the eternal covenant (Heb. 13:20); and of that compact made before time began this is one of the effects—upon poor, lost, ruined sinners, who have fled for refuge: the bestowal of beauty for ashes.

“Upon a poor polluted worm
He makes His graces shine.” (Gadsby’s, 109).

“The Sovereign will of God alone
Creates us heirs of grace;
Born in the image of His Son,
A new peculiar race.” (Gadsby’s, 190).

MAY 9
“To give unto them beauty for ashes”—61:3.
(third meditation) §

We have referred in some measure to the ashes of which we are possessed. Of such a nature is our obedience to the Law of God. This law demands obedience. Unless its demands are satisfied we are lost. We attempt to supply the demand. Many appear to think it is really possible to do it; and a great pile of this obedience of ours is gathered in the sight of God. But if the words in Gen. 3:19 fittingly apply to anything, “dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return,” is suited also to this vain collection of efforts to appease the Law of God. It is dust and ashes. Yet it forms our only possession. We are possessed of nothing else but these human ashes to offer. Wherewith, then, shall we approach the court of a holy God? Herein is brought to light our salvation. Our text is the word of a saviour. He undertakes to give us beauty for ashes. He has worked out an obedience for us which is everywhere beautiful and comely in all its parts. This He—in fulfilment of His promise—bestows upon us and with this we can approach a holy God. Behold, the eye of Justice now smiles as we approach the heavenly throne—possessed of this beauty. As we come, Justice and Mercy are seen to be reconciled, and the gracious smile of Mercy upon us is equal to, but not more gracious than, that of Justice. This is a beauty at sight of which the sternness of eternal Justice never fails to relax. To the poor approaching sinner the Lord Jesus has given beauty for ashes, and he approaches the footstool of Mercy rejoicing in a promise-making and promise-fulfilling Saviour. May it be granted to us not to be forgetful of so great salvation and that it may draw forth increasingly the affections of our cold hearts.

“Then let His name for ever be
To us supremely dear;
Our only, all-prevailing plea,
For all our hope is there.” (Gadsby’s, 383).

“The best obedience of my hands
Dares not appear before thy throne;
But faith can answer thy demands,
By pleading what my Lord has done.”
(Gadsby’s, 112).

§ It ought perhaps to be explained that some portions of this and the two previous meditations have already appeared in the Gospel Standard as a condensed contribution.

MAY 10
“To give unto them beauty for ashes”—Isa. 61:3.
(fourth meditation)

It is not gratifying to the flesh to sit down to the meditation of ourselves and all our possessions as ashes. It is mortifying to nature, but it is sweet to grace. For thence is grace led to behold the goodness of God in the gift promised and bestowed. A great part of man consists in his desires and affections. O, how we need this heavenly gift: for look at these. Ashes are these affections, ashes are these desires, whether we speak of the longings themselves, or of the objects desired. The affections, the desires, and the things longed for, are all corrupt, they all deal in and consist of corruption, their nourishment is corruption, and whatever present appearance they wear, we know that they are in principle ashes—“dust they are and unto dust they will return” (Gen. 3:19). How humbling and hopeless is the consideration that in all these there is nothing that can live with God. Yet to be acceptable to God, to dwell with Him, we must possess affections and desires which are in themselves beautiful, centre upon what is beautiful, feed upon what is beautiful, and move instinctively towards that which is comely in the sight of God. Here is seen the hopelessness of our position. We, by nature, long for and move instinctively towards things which are earthly, sensual, devilish (James 3:15) and if so, that which longs for these things, and that which produces these longings—our desires and affections—must be and are also the same. Does this seem too much to say? This is the divine word on the subject, and by experience, too, it is known to be true, even if all these things be not put into outward action: “Out of the heart proceed evil thoughts, adulteries, fornications, murders, thefts, covetousness, wickedness, deceit, lasciviousness, an evil eye, blasphemy, pride, foolishness!” (see Mark 7:21, 22; Matt. 15:19). What a laying out before us of the ashes of the fall: and he that offendeth in one point is guilty of all! (James. 2:10). What is to be done with this collection of ashes in the sight of a holy God? The only hope is this: His gracious promise to give unto them beauty for ashes: in keeping also with His covenant: “I will put a new spirit within you.” “I will put my law in their inward parts, and write it in their hearts” (Ezk. 11:19; Jer. 31:33). In effect, that in place of the ashes of death shall arise and be bestowed the beauty of divine life. Does this divine picture of the awful ashes of the fall within us appear terrible to us? But He promises and bestows beauty for ashes! And the poet’s spirit arises with a hope made beauteous by the power of a heavenly faith:

“Jesus thy blood and righteousness
My beauty are, my glorious dress;
’Midst flaming worlds, in these arranged
With joy shall I lift up my head.” (Gadsby’s, 103).

MAY 11
“He delivered me from my strong enemy, and from them which hated me;
for they were too strong for me”—Ps. 18:17.

Who did? David is here making a statement concerning some one who delivered him. It would seem from these words that it was a deliverer of much power. At any rate, this is certain: the strength of his deliverer was greater than his own; and David, therefore, was obliged to resort to him. Further than this, it is also certain that the strength of his deliverer was greater even than that of his enemies. The fact that he delivered him from their strength proves this—notwithstanding that, whilst they were all too strong for David, one especially was a strong enemy, which he himself tells us. How much still, further power his deliverer could have exerted on his behalf if necessary we need not here especially go into. But any gracious reader of other portions of David’s utterances will find that he knew his deliverer also to be possessed of more strength than any possible enemy which could come against him—or even of any united gathering of enemies. In more than one place he speaks of him as his strong Deliverer. In another place he shews us that he regards him as his strong Deliverer at all times—and not on one or two special occasions only: for he refers to him as he “who performeth all things for me” (Ps. 57:2). Does it not seem that David was a man in a very favoured position? To have such a deliverer, considering that all around him and all his life long, were enemies? How favoured should we be had we such a deliverer. Who is he? But such a deliverer has every humble follower of the Lord. It is the same Deliverer. It is the Lord Himself. Is this really true? It is. We are hemmed about with enemies, within and without. But we have not more than David had; and his deliverer delivered him from them, “for they were too strong for him.” Ours are too strong for us also: but that was the express reason why He delivered him from them. Do we realize the position of the “children of the Heavenly King?” How little. Which one can be fully said to do so? Faith alone can so enable us. David was also from time to time much favoured with power to believe in, credit, and rely on the power of his Deliverer and His faithfulness to promises given before that He would be his Deliverer. This power is called faith. We have David’s Deliverer. O that we had more of this power.

“O that I had a stronger faith,
To look within the veil;
To credit what my Saviour saith,
Whose words can never fail.” (Gadsby’s, 247).

MAY 12
“For, behold, the darkness shall cover the earth, and gross darkness the people:
but the LORD shall arise upon thee, and his glory shall be seen upon thee”—Is. 60:2

How this prophecy concerning the whole church is also seen worked out in the experience of individual believers. Here is a portrait—or, perhaps, more correctly, a portrayal, of the history of a believer. How beautiful to see it carried out. Darkness is upon him. He loves it. He walks in it. He thinks in it. He breathes it: It is the nourishment of his being. And the more he breathes it, the stronger become his lungs, and the draughts which he inhales of it increase; whilst the more he breathes of it, the greater becomes his darkness. He is at the same time the subject of a subtle delusion. He believes he is in the light—or, at least, is not conscious of what constitutes light. He hears, perhaps, by the proclamation of the divine word, that there is such a thing as light, and that it differs in some mysterious way from that in which he is walking. He hears of it as a man born blind hears of light, but what it really is (if he even believes there be such a thing) he can only conjecture and speculate. But in any case he does not desire to know it. The darkness suits his nature and he loves darkness rather than light (John 3:19). It envelopes both his path and his being and he loves to have it so. He is in the chains of the bottomless pit, but owing to the gross darkness he thinks them golden chains and hugs them. Does he? Yes. Though not always. Their leadings bring him sometimes to places and things which are plainly awful to him. Yet such is the covering dwelling upon him as a thick pall, that even then he is a consenting citizen of the realms of darkness. But he is a child of love; and an inheritor of glory. The Lord arises upon him. He begins to flee from the shadows of night and to grope for the streaks of dawn. He begins to “see men as trees walking” (Mark 8:24). The Lord is arising—has arisen upon him. His glory is commencing to be seen upon him. He begins to see the clear light of the heavenly kingdom around him. He is a man transformed. His new spirit has been bestowed from heaven. That is how the glory begins. His faculties shine with beams of divine light and at times are visited with sparks of celestial radiance. He moves with the mien of the King’s children, with the light of divine love in his eyes, the image of the King upon his features, the voice of holy music falling from his lips, and is seen walking with the saints in the garments of salvation (Is. 61:10). The glory of the Lord :is seen upon him, and it is a sight which his fellow-pilgrims love to see. It is the commencement. He is walking in the dawnings of glory; and soon he will walk where there shall be no night, where the glory of the Lord will arise upon him in its fulness, and will lighten the City; where “the Lord shall be his everlasting light, and the days of his mourning shall be ended” (Is. 60:20; Rev. 21:23; 22:5), for though gross darkness covered him, His Redeemer has firmly declared that His glory shall be seen upon him. And at times, when some little sense of these things rests upon them, he and his fellow-pilgrims sing:

“Oh why did Jesus shew to me
The beauties of His face?
Why to my soul did He convey
The blessings of His grace?
Lord, for Thy manifested grace
I’ll raise a cheerful song,
Till I shall see Thy brighter face
’Midst the celestial throng.” (Gadsby’s, 191).

MAY 13
“I rejoice at thy word, as one that findeth great spoil”—Ps. 119:162.

How descriptive is this of the experience of one especially who has just begun to find the word of God precious, no matter at what age he may have been brought into this gracious condition. It is exemplified by the account of one who was thus brought late in life, and whose “family bible” (probably the only one in the house) had hitherto been seldom—and then only formally—taken down and read. Its pages now seemed so different to him that he said to his wife: “I want our real old family bible.” “That is it,” she replied. “Then,” he said, “if this is the old bible, I have got new eyes!”’ And there he spoke the truth. The Lord had given him new eyes, a new heart, a new understanding, new wants, and a new bible; and now in that new bible he found blessed things treasured up and opened to his view. He now “rejoiced in it as one that found great spoil.” The treasures of grace, of covenant blessings, golden promises, heart-comfortings, and soul pastures, were “spoil” to him which probably struck him with rejoicing—both in present discovery and hopes of further finding of riches—as does a newly-explored country where a gold-seeker finds the land richly sprinkled with nuggets of gold, or with minerals and precious stones of price. The former, like the latter, rejoices as one that findeth great spoil. How sweet is this new-born experience many a saint now knows or can remember. Not that this rejoicing and these discoveries are confined to the beginning, either. How sweetly they are at times renewed: how good it is to so have the word and its treasures opened up afresh and the heart, affections, and understanding opened afresh to them, by the operation of the Spirit of the Lord upon the inner man. Thus, indeed, the halting traveller is at times “strengthened with might by Him in the inner man” (Eph. 3:16).

“The happy gates of gospel grace
Stand open night and day;
Lord, we are come to seek supplies,
And drive our wants away.” (Gadsby’s, 56).

MAY 14
“I rejoice at thy word, as one that findeth great spoil”—Ps. 119:162.
(second meditation)

This subject we referred to yesterday, and then likened the discoveries of divine riches found in the word by a rejoicing believer to those of a person finding in a newly-explored country nuggets of gold abounding, or minerals and precious stones unexpectedly rewarding his rejoicing explorations. But is there not something further which, in relation thereto, it is good to dwell upon? Does it not lead us to consider—and the Lord grant that it may be with sweetness—how abiding are the hopes of the Christian? Those of the rejoicing explorer are fleeting. Rich though the field of new-found spoils may be to him, “all flesh is as grass,” and “all the glory of man is as the flower of the grass” (1 Pet. 1:24). It is all fleeting. Its value is fleeting. The field itself may suddenly cease its productiveness, and its continuance of spoils “wither and fall away;” (1 Pet. 1:25) all his hopes be blighted and his rejoicings be put an end to. But not so with the heavenly explorer. Is the reader, or is the writer, such? Then may he be enabled to sweetly regard his position. The spoils he has begun to find will never themselves fade away. They are unfading. His power of enjoying them will not fade away. It may appear to die for the time being, or grow weak: but his powers are as immortal as his new-found spoils. “He shall renew his strength.” (Is. 40:31). The Lord “giveth more grace” (James 4:6) “His life is hid with Christ in God” (Col. 3:3). The field itself will not give out. He will never get to the end of its riches. His hopes have an enduring field and substance and will—though varying from many causes—be renewed like his strength: Satan himself cannot tear away their foundation, their life, or empty his treasure-field of its riches. His treasures form an inheritance that is incorruptible and undefiled, and that fadeth not away (1 Pet. 1:4). He, therefore, “rejoices in great spoils” now and will (in a permanent sense), never cease to do so.

“Let every open ear attend
And broken heart rejoice;
The trumpet of the gospel sounds
With an inviting voice.” (Gadsby’s, 56).

MAY 15
“He careth for you”—1 Peter 5:7.

How wondrous is the thought to me;
It’s dread solemnity how great:
That for my help and guidance moves
The power which all things doth create;
Which all things did create and must;
Without whose voice no thing can be;
Whose faultless force with wisdom speaks;
Which rules the might that rules the sea.

My mind falls backward to the dust,
And contemplation powerless stands
To know why my poor needs can move
The motions of those mighty hands.
Can it be true that, wisdom-tipt,
Move with concern—with care for me!—
The framers of the golden floor—
The fingers of Infinity?

Yes. Thus their moving voice declares:
Its truth my earthly steps reveal:
O, may that sacred truth, discerned,
Sweet comfort to my spirit seal.
And though my puny thoughts recoil,
Powerless to fathom why they move,
Let this suffice: they are, I know,
The fingers of immortal love.— E. L.

MAY 16
“I rejoice at thy word, as one that findeth great spoil”—Ps. 119:162.
(third meditation—see May 13th and 14th)

This is the experience of the heavenly explorer. It is (though with regard to fading treasures) that of the earthly explorer in a newly-found rich field or country of wealth. But there is a further main difference between the two which may be marked. The latter hugs both his treasures and his discovery to himself. He desires above all things to keep them a secret; to keep off all comers. The essence of his desire is to keep the discovery and its riches to himself. But the reverse is the former’s condition. The more he rejoices in his new-found field and its spoils, the more he desires to proclaim its riches to his fellows. His expanding heart-cry is: “come and hear all ye that fear God and I will declare what He hath done for my soul” (Ps. 66:16). Whilst the earthly explorer’s discoveries arouse the worst evils of his nature—covetousness, hate of all comers, anger towards them, lying and deceit if thought necessary, violence if needed—even, perhaps, murder itself, to drive or keep off intruders—the heavenly rejoicer’s discoveries fill his heart with love to the giver, and to his fellow explorers, tenderness and graciousness of spirit and conscience in the enjoyment of his riches, a rejoicing at the sight of other explorers diligently engaged in searching the same field: and there is a further consideration likewise. If another explorer comes, that in no-wise lessens the remaining riches of the field for him. Its resources are boundless—and he knows that they will last for ever. Happy explorers. How blessed to be brought amongst them: to be made one of this favoured company, and to thus become “a companion of all them that fear the Lord” (Ps. 119:63). One they are now in heart, hopes, love and Lord; and one they will ever remain in blessings unfading. “Ten thousand thousand are their tongues, but all their joys are one.”

“Dear God! the treasures of thy love
Are everlasting mines,
Deep as our helpless miseries are.
And boundless as our sins!” (Gadsby’s, 56).

MAY 17
“The land whereon thou liest, to thee will I give it”—Gen. 28:13.

This refers to the land whereon Jacob lay on the night of his memorable vision at Bethel, and they are the words of the Lord spoken to him. Though there is no desire to wrest the meaning of the words themselves, do they not also lead the mind to and illustrate, a subject far more important than the possession of the land referred to in them? The promise here made is that the land into the midst of which Jacob had been brought and on which he that night lay, should be given to him for a permanent possession. It was the place of God’s presence, and he called it such—for that is the meaning of Bethel (the “house of God”). The christian does not lie upon that ground. But in God’s mercy he is brought to lie upon its spiritual counterpart. Upon what land—answering to that in question—is he brought to lie? is it not the land of the gospel—the land of the love of God? For what is the gospel, in essence, but the love of God? This, then, is the land upon which he is brought to lie. And what a fair and fruitful land it is. Now we know that, in the eternal purpose of God, it was long before fixed that Jacob should enter into the possession of the land referred to in the words. But at that time when he was brought to lie upon it, the purpose was revealed and openly evidenced. So, though God’s eternal purpose has always been to put the child of God into possession of the land of the Gospel—the land of His Love; it is not until the set time for openly declaring it that the poor elect vessel has it revealed that his name is written in the Lamb’s Book of Life (Rev. 21:27) as the possessor of it—in the eternal roll of heavenly inheritors. And this set time of open revelation of what before was secret is when he is brought to “lie” upon it—when (as in Jacob’s case) it becomes the place of the presence of God: which is none other than being “called” openly to it, as Jacob was. But when he is once brought thus to sensibly lie upon it—thus “called”—(Rom. 8:30) the Lord by thus bringing him to lie upon it in effect openly declares to him these truly blessed words: “The land whereon thou liest, to thee will I give it.” In other language: “all that time and eternal inheritance of blessing which is declared in the Gospel, and which is contained in my love—this whereon thou now liest by faith, to thee shall it be for thy possession.” How sweet a declaration of inheritance.

“Cite the will of His own sealing,
Title good, sign’d with blood,
Valid and unfailing.
When thy title thou discernest,
Humbly then sue again,
For continual earnest.” (Gadsby’s, 484).

MAY 18
“Let thy lovingkindness and thy truth continually preserve me”—Ps. 40:11.

Were it not for the lovingkindness of God in the upholding and preservation of us as his chosen vessels of mercy, we should infallibly fall a perpetual prey to Satan: and to the leadings of the only real “free will”’ we possess by nature, namely: a free and ready will to follow the dictates of Satan and the deceitful windings of the path of death. This is how it is—and in spite of all our natural pride of spirit, this is the only reason why—we are not still in the path of perdition, and the fundamental cause why even to this day we have not proved to be amongst “them who draw back to perdition” (Heb. 10:39). But is there not also an instrumental sense in which these two things (His lovingkindness and His truth) preserve us: in which they are two of His special means of preserving us? There seems to be something both sweet and profitable for meditation here. His love shed abroad in our hearts, the constant evidences of His love to us, the fresh sealing of it home to our hearts, the constant reminders and outcomes of His love: i.e. His goodness to us in manifold ways, spiritual and temporal, so tend (in their nature) to soften and draw our hearts to Him, that they are in themselves powerful antidotes to the blandishments of sin, the world, the flesh, and the Devil. No man can serve two masters (Matt. 6:24) and as these things draw us to Him, the things of sin thus find their own power of drawing upon us weakened. Whatsoever means God is pleased to use to manifest His love, the quickening of the sense of it in our hearts gives a back-set to the workings of Satan there. The “stronger master” (Luke 11:22) especially exercises His kingship then, and the heart is more than ever intent upon the sweet rule of its real Master. So His lovingkindness is, in His hands, in itself a means of our preservation. So, similarly, is His truth—also in His hands; i.e. applied and used to its designed ends in this respect by Him. It is a candle to guide us into light to keep us from the dark, or to lead us out of it; it is also used by His spirit for our sanctification (John 17:17, 19, &c.) and consequently for the preservation of the motions of our spirits and of our “conversation.” (Phil. 3:20, &c.) Therefore, the more we are enabled to abide in His truth and to abide in His love, (John 15:4, 7, 10, &c.) the more are we dwelling in the means of His preservation; and the Psalmist’s desire seems to imply nothing less than a petition that the Holy Spirit would so quicken his spirit (Ps. 119:25; 143:11) by these means that thus, and thereby, he might be graciously preserved. May the same gracious prayer spring up in our own hearts—for we know He can answer it.

“He guides and moves our steps,
For though we seem to move,
His Spirit all the motion gives,
By springs of fear and love.” (Gadsby’s, 308).

MAY 19
“But I am poor and needy; yet the Lord thinketh upon me”—Ps. 40:17.

I am poor and needy! Then what help can I expect from the great? If I were rich and powerful; if I had large possessions; if my family had large strings of influence at their command; if I were amongst the noble, and had consequently around me a circle of social brilliance such as those amongst which the proud and powerful delight to move; if I were a mighty politician, or a great diplomat, with large patronage at my command: if I only had some of these things, the great and the rich would be sure to think of me. I might go to them when in want of something—some favour they could perform—and their ears would be mine, their smiles would welcome me, and their help would be granted with both graciousness and alacrity. But I am poor and needy! Now their eyes are turned askance. Now their faces are cold. What do they want (says a poor and needy one) with such as I am? Their hearts scorn any idea of me. I know before I go that it is to me a fatal thing in their eyes if I am poor and needy. But is it so?—that the great and rich will spurn me? Yes. Some will. Most will. But the greatest of all and the richest of all will not. Is this really true? It is nothing less than divine truth itself. It is nothing less than divine truth that to Him the very fact of my being poor and needy is the greatest recommendation: it is that especially which will bring the smile of welcome from Him to me. O, if this be so, I am in a good case. For I am always poor and needy and He is on that very account always willing to help me—more than this, He is always “thinking upon me.” He is my God—my Refuge—my Hope—and I begin afresh, and more and more, to see how exactly suited He is to me: to such a poor and needy sinner as I am. And my present supplication is that He will enable me to come to Him with greater confidence in this divine truth.

“Bless Him, my soul, from day to day;
Trust Him to bring thee on thy way;
Give Him thy poor, weak, sinful heart;
With Him O never, never part.
Take Him for strength and righteousness;
Make Him thy refuge in distress;
Love Him above all earthly joy,
And Him in everything employ.” (Gadsby’s, 171).

MAY 20
“And Pharaoh told them his dreams; but there was none that could interpret them unto Pharaoh. Then spoke the chief butler unto Pharaoh, saying, …he interpreted to us our dreams; …and it came to pass, as he interpreted to us, so it was”—Gen. 41:8, 9, 13.

And this we know was the means by which Joseph (the person spoken of) was brought into favour with Pharaoh, king of Egypt. May the Lord sanctify the consideration in few words of this subject today to the strengthening of our faith; to the enabling of us to walk by faith when we are not permitted to do that which according to the flesh we so much prefer to do, namely—to walk by sight; to the enabling of us to commit our way unto the Lord (Ps. 37:5) instead of desiring—and perhaps rebelliously—to take the management of our concerns out of God’s hands into our own, or to presumptuously map out the way we think He had best take with us. Let us think what the course of the flesh would have been in such a case; what its results would have been; and then recall the final uplifting to our sight of the unerring success of the complicated workings of God’s providence, “ordered in all things and sure,” like the covenant itself. (2 Sam. 23:5). Joseph (guided by even the keenest of fleshly wisdom) would never have entered that prison, could he have avoided it; and when forced there, would have escaped from it immediately had he been able safely to do so. That would have been a triumph of human design, skill and execution. But its results? He would almost certainly have fled over the face of the earth away from the face of Pharaoh; would never have interpreted in the prison the butler’s and baker’s dreams; would never have been found when Pharaoh sought him, never have interpreted his dreams: in fact, he would have run completely away from the means by which he was to be made governor of the land, the means by which Jacob and the children of Israel where to be brought into Egypt, by which all God’s wonderful purposes there were to be performed, and all His covenant promises to them were to be brought about, their tiny race be made as the stars of heaven for multitude (Gen. 15:5) their inheritance of Canaan be accomplished and the great history typical of God’s chosen people in all ages be worked out and recorded. But the walk of Joseph was by faith and not by sight, believing meanwhile of God that “Deep in unfathomable mines of never-failing skill, He treasured up His bright designs, and worked His sovereign will.” He and the poet Cowper believed in the same all-wise, wonder-working God; and how great was the faith-inspiring sight when the veil was lifted from His sovereign working! God was “His own interpreter,” and then He “made it plain!”

“Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take,
The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy, and shall break
In blessings on your head.” (Gadsby’s, 320).

MAY 21
“And it came to pass at the end of two full years, that Pharaoh dreamed”—Gen. 41:1.

Why did Pharaoh dream? He was undoubtedly made to dream this great dream for the beginning and the fulfilment of the wonderful purposes of God. Here we see—as in the case of Cyrus and others—how God is able to use, and does use, even worldly men for the accomplishment of His purposes on behalf of His chosen children; how, to perform any blessing or wise purpose He designs for His people in general, or even for one of them individually, He holds all things at His command. Men are at His control, hearts are at His control, inanimate things and creatures are at His control, the elements we know are at His control, He commanded the sea itself and “there was a great calm”—(Mark 4:39) the gold and silver are His (Hag. 2:8) and so are the cattle upon a thousand hills (Ps. 50:10). He uses and can use them all—and this He does, not with the tiny-sighted vision of a finite mind, but with the unerring wisdom of an all-comprehending sight. This is the faith-helping subject which seems to be suggested for the contemplation of God’s poor tried and harassed people here: and such are they all—even such are those few who possess this world’s riches. All are poor, tried and harassed. And seeing the many ways in which they are poor, are tried and harassed, how needful is a helper whose control not only extends to certain things, but to all things, and therefore to all things and men where the exercise of power is needful on their behalf—from the control of their own deceitful and desperately wicked hearts, and their smallest concerns, to the control of Pharaoh and Satan himself: for it is undoubted that He proved Himself master of Pharaoh and that He has also proved Himself master of Satan. “We are weak: but He is mighty.” We are feeble, and surrounded by everything which we cannot cope with ourselves. But here—as the Psalmist declares (Ps. 27:1) is “the strength of our life”: and He, too, is able to give that living and soul-upholding, spirit-sustaining and heart comforting faith needed to lay hold upon it; and “thus saith the Lord God: I will yet for this be enquired of by the house of Israel, to do it for them. … And they shall know that I am the Lord” (Ezek. 36:37, 38).

“Cheerful we tread the desert through,
While faith inspires a heavenly ray,
Though lions roar and tempests blow,
And rocks and dangers fill the way.” (Gadsby’s, 231).

MAY 22
“I will run the way of thy commandments, when thou shalt enlarge my heart”—Ps. 119:32.

Before this was spoken, an agreement of spirit had been established between the person spoken to and the person speaking. For how “can two walk together unless they be agreed?” (Amos 3:3). The commandments of God are the outward expression of His spirit and the manifestation of His character. It is evident that the speaker had been brought to love these and we cannot love that with which we are not in agreement. A new heart had therefore been bestowed upon him, and a new nature whose motions were in agreement with the spirit and nature of God. This is the cause which brought him to love the commandments of God, and the cause which brings about a love of God’s commandments in any heart. There may be someone reading these lines today who—otherwise in doubt—is conscious that they have been brought to love the commandments of God, and this reflection may be comforting to them, as it is to the writer. No one loves the commandments of God (which means none other than the holy law and the things of God) by nature. For nature is at enmity both with them and Him (Rom. 8:7). How can it be otherwise? If water springs from a poisoned well, will it not partake of the nature of the well? The origin of a thing will tell us what its nature is and what it will do. The principles of fallen nature spring from Satan. They are and must be the express image of his nature and character, as truly as Christ is the express image of the nature and character of God. We know that the whole nature of Satan is at enmity against God and the things and law of God: so, consequently, must be all that springs from him; and alas this is where fallen nature springs from. Therefore nature “is not subject to the law of God, neither indeed can be.” The love of these “commandments,” therefore, plainly implies that this enmity has been slain, and by the only possible means—the impartation of a new nature, which can only have one source: a source like itself. A harassed, tempted and doubting believer may be invited to meditate upon this, as the writer is at present led to do. The further examination of it must be left to him, but to such one thing may be observed: the source at any rate cannot be Satan. Who and what it is is the subject for his consideration, with the word of God as his guide and the spirit of the Lord as his promised Helper. To love these things and to have that love visibly animated and enabled to “run” in them are two different things, which may fittingly form the subject of our next meditation.

MAY 23
“I will run the way of thy commandments, when thou shalt enlarge my heart”—Psalms 119:32.
(second meditation)

We observed yesterday that an agreement of spirit had been established between the speaker and the person spoken to: otherwise, he could not love these things, which are contrary to fallen nature and to the spring of its principles, who is Satan himself, who is the glass in which we may see what our fallen nature is, and which will focus for us our own sad experience of this nature and our observation of it in the world. But as we further observed yesterday: to have this enmity to God and the things of God slain, by the implantation of a new nature—to love these things and to have that love visibly animated and enabled to “run” in them, are two different things. Hence spring many of our perplexities. In connection with this very subject the perplexities, trials and clouds of some of God’s people we know are especially deep, heavy, and powerful. Even in other cases the difficulties are great, the trials of faith many, and the anxiety and the sadness at conscious coldness and declensions from time to time the cause of many an errand to the throne of Grace. But David shews us what was his present hope in the matter. This life in its first begetting did not come from himself. Why should he vainly seek its sustaining and quickenings from wells where no water is?—namely, from himself or any other fruitless source? Indeed, in another place he declares: “all my springs are in thee” (Ps. 87:7). The truth is he needs (for so he says) his heart enlarged. Now, none but He who created it can enlarge it. But He can. There seems to be beneath the surface here a faith lurking that He also will. What was needful for the quickening sought was the enlargement of his love, the enlargement of his faith, the enlargement of his spiritual sight, the enlargement of his affections, the enlargement of his spiritual desires, the enlargement of his insight into the word of God, into its precious promises, into its divine truths; the enlargement of its sanctifying power in his heart; the enlargement of his understanding; and not least—and even instrumentally by all this—the enlargement of his will. But where was—and is—all this to be obtained from? “When thou shalt enlarge my heart.” But is not this a great work? Does it not seem at times impossible? Why? Is it greater than to create the heart? Greater to enlarge it than to first bring it into being? Here seems to be given us by David a line of very needful and divinely directed meditation in such a case: and founded upon the power and affectionate promises of Him to whom he elsewhere cries: “My soul cleaveth unto the dust: quicken thou me according to thy word’” (Ps. 119:25). We are not without hope. His arm is not shortened. He is a resort where ability resides; and our love—seemingly faint and beclouded though it be—to His commandments is an encouragement to seek the “enlargement” referred to by the Psalmist.

MAY 24
“The entrance of thy words giveth light; it giveth understanding unto the simple”—Ps. 119:130.

This is how it is that some hear to saving effect, whilst others depart without experiencing any such result. It is the entrance of the word which giveth light. If this be so, it does appear, indeed, that a sinner cannot give himself light: for to do this he must be able to make the word enter into his heart and understanding. This is not—for it is past—the work of man. It is the prerogative of the Spirit of the Lord. There is little doubt that the virtual exhortation of helpless sinners by so many to do the work in question is responsible for increasing the contempt of many for the Gospel, instead of drawing them to it, and that even in many cases it produces atheists. For men of strong common sense are week by week vehemently exhorted to do what they plainly see and find they cannot do, and being told that that is salvation, many presently go their ways with the conviction that the Gospel is nothing but a vast delusion. Knowing the sovereignty of God, we are yet bound to follow His revealed guidance both in our own contemplations and in the manner of our presentation of divine truths to other poor sinners. Some may say that all the unregenerate regard the gospel as a delusion. But this is by no means the case. Thousands there are who hate it, and will never do otherwise, who yet believe it to be a solemn reality. “Then if man is so helpless, what do you reckon is to be done?” some may say. “Are we to give up trying to save sinners?” as it is sometimes put. “If we tell them they can do nothing, will they not give all up as useless and go their ways and cease all concern in religion?” The briefest answer—suitable to our present limits— seems to be this: That sinners are “born again by the incorruptible seed of the word of God, which by the Gospel is preached unto them” (1 Pet. 1:23, 25). The preaching of this is God’s instrument, and this He will make effectual to every redeemed sinner. Hence the delight of those who love Him when they see sinners come beneath the sound of the Gospel; for we know not to whom He will make it effectual. Secret things belong to Him; those that are revealed belong to us; (Deut. 29:29) and it is revealed to us that His servants are to preach the Gospel to every creature (Mark 16:15; Col. 1:23); and He—“knowing them that are His” (2 Tim. 2:19);—has promised to make it effectual to His redeemed family according to His sovereignty. How favoured are we if used in any capacity whatever as His instruments. And how good that the result does not depend upon mere human effort, but upon the almighty and invincible power of the Spirit of God. He has the power to cause “entrance” of the word—and that it is which will give efficacious light in the heart and make it “the power” not of man, but “of God unto salvation” (Rom. 1:16). What an encouragement this, then, is to the spreading and proclamation of the glorious Gospel of the Living God! Therefore it is that, knowing not who are His till they are manifested, we sometimes sing:

“And may the gospel’s joyful sound,
Enforced by Sovereign grace,
Awaken many sinners round
To come and fill the place.” (Gadsby’s, 398).

MAY 25
“And Saul was consenting unto his death”—Acts 8:1.

Many who are dear to those who love the Lord appear almost beyond the pale of salvation—almost past hope. So unlikely does their case seem. Prayer concerning them appears hard, or where it does not seem hard, answer’s long delay and the continuance of seemingly hopeless outward appearances are deeply discouraging. How many prayers, indeed, now being uttered from godly lips will not be seen answered until those lips are here no more. But can we cease praying on that account? Does the subject of our prayers appear amiable and pleasing as nature goes, and one whom we might think would easily be laid hold of by the sweet constraints of grace; and yet does he, or she, continue, after months or years of prayer, to remain amiably, but persistently, unaffected in any saving manner by the gospel? How easy, it seems to us, would it be for God to call such an one into the paths of His fear. But there seems to be no hope. Is the subject of our prayers a pertinacious, and perhaps intellectually gifted, arguer and caviller against the doctrines and revealed truths of God’s grace? It seems that if they were only more simple and pliable of mind, the gospel—aided by our efforts, perhaps—might be made attractive to them, and that the mountains of perverse reasonings which exist in their minds, being removed, would make the sky of our hopes concerning them so much more clear. It may be that the subject of our concern is an open scoffer, a downright profligate, an open blasphemer, or a violent and scheming enemy of the truth of God and of those who love it. How our faith sinks and our hopes with it. O, do we not see what we are doing? We are looking to the creature and not to the Creator—not to Him to whom we are praying. What are all these things to Him? Is it not an act of creation we are asking Him for? Let us seek to keep that in mind. Was there anything in chaos promising for His creation of this beautiful earth? But was it not nevertheless created? Was there any hopeful indication in Saul? God’s ways are not our ways—but for that very reason we are so often discouraged, if not dismayed. There is every encouragement for us to continue our prayers, seeing that obstacles only count with us—not with God. They are of no account with Him, and for Him “nothing is too hard” (Gen. 18:14; 32:17, 27), as the case of Saul strikingly manifests.

MAY 26
“And the angels which kept not their first estate, but left their own habitation, he hath reserved in everlasting chains, under darkness, unto the judgment of the great day”—Jude 6.

This is a solemn portion of God’s word. Here are beings who were once great and glorious. But they fell. They lost their fairness, and are now marred with the most fearful ravages of sin, which has blasted everything beautiful in them, made their hearts the abodes of hate, blasphemy and woe, and sown their spirits with misery. But other beings also fell, and fell into the same principles of sin and enmity to God. They became no longer fit for the companionship of God, or for the occupation of the abodes of heaven. The society of those eternal regions of peace, light and love; the worship, the eternal music, the companionship of the dwelling place of God and of his glorified loved ones, need beings of spotless purity, and with natures beating in unison with the adorable Centre of the happy family designed to dwell there in love and harmony for ever; and the beings in question fell into a condition totally averse to all this, and unfitting them for it as much as were unfitted by their fall the angels who now fill both the bottomless pit and this world (working through the hearts of men) with enmity to God. Sad is the condition of these fallen, once glorious angels. Sad became the condition of these other beings by their fall. Have we ever seen such objects of woe? We have—and at this moment may do so. To the reader, to the writer, may be said: “Thou art the man!” (Esther 7:6; 2 Sam. 12:7). “Yes, but”—replies the reader, perhaps—“I have yet a hope that I shall see God.” But why should’st thou have this hope, when these fallen angels—once far more glorious than thou—have no hope of ever more beholding those heavenly regions and dwelling in the light of His love? It is all of His Sovereign mercy. Both fell. But thou hast this hope and they have not. May such strange and inscrutable love fill our hearts with filial tenderness and adoration towards one who singled out for both His eternal love and His Almighty Redemption from its fall, such an unworthy being as the one who writes, as the one who reads, though He left those once glorious angels unredeemed.

“Hither, then your music bring;
Strike aloud each cheerful string;
Join, ye saints, the hosts above;
Join to praise redeeming love.” (Gadsby’s, 90).

MAY 27
“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ,
who hath blessed us with all spiritual blessings
in heavenly places (or things) in Christ”—Eph. 1:3.

What are these blessings? May we not, in our brief contemplation, rather say: what do they not include? Only one would we refer to today, which, as it is commended to the writer’s meditation, may be used to help us on our daily journey Zionward. It is this: These blessings include that He will lead us on to an increased knowledge of Himself. Is there a pilgrim to Zion with whom this is not a fervent desire? “To know more of Him and His Salvation.” “O that I might know Him!” “That I might know more of Him, whom to know is life eternal” (John 17:3). “That I might know Him and the power of His resurrection” (Phil. 3:10). Are not these the expressions of those who love Him? “To them that believe He is precious” (1 Pet. 2:7). These things, and their great Source, have become the foundation of their life, hopes and being. They were once “strangers and foreigners” (Eph. 2:19). But they are so no longer. Do they doubt it? Yes, indeed they do, only too often and too deeply. But what a contradiction! Why should they be foreigners, when their hearts and the very desires of their souls are set upon these things—upon Him, who is the sun and fount and centre of them all—who is them all? Is the heart of any “foreigner” set upon them and Him? Such a heart is found in citizens alone. Foreigners and strangers—all others—are at enmity (Rom. 8:7; 1 Cor. 2:14) with Him, with his country, with His City, and with His kingdom. These things and He are precious. If so, the increased knowledge of Him is their desire, and is itself most precious; and this is included in the blessings here referred to. They feel this knowledge to be small, faint and often that it is fading, if not faded; or that it will fade away altogether. But never so. Here is a meditation to cheer the heart and water the thirsty soil of the seeking soul. It will increase—for “He hath blessed us with all spiritual blessings in heavenly places (or things, as the margin reads) in Christ,” and this is one of the principal heavenly things. He will not omit any of them—but if our doubts make us imagine that He will, we may at any rate be certain of one thing—He will not, whatever else He omits, omit this chief of heavenly things from our covenantly “ordered and sure” blessings (2 Sam. 23:5). What encouraging news and ground of reflection for us today. May it help us—whose desire is to “follow on to know the Lord” (Hos. 6:3).

MAY 28
“And He laid His right hand upon me, saying unto me, Fear not”—Rev. 1:17.

The solemn scene brought to mind by these words shews the unspeakable difference which exists (by the sovereign mercy of God) between a child of God and the “children of disobedience” (Eph. 2:2). One is drawn in sweet reverential freedom, and with the gladness of filial hope, to the favoured presence of the great God, his friend, deliverer, protector and everlasting hope. The other shrinks from Him in fear; his spirit—the more he looks upon Him and the more he thinks upon Him—recoils from Him and withdraws in secret terror. He is a flaming fire to him. “Who maketh thee to differ from another?” (1. Cor. 4:7). Here was an almighty person of great awfulness. He had come in person from heaven; and such was the glory, the might, the great dignity and terrifying majesty of the Divine Being who had come from the realms of glory and now stood before John, that when he saw Him his spirit fainted and he fell at His feet as dead (ver. 17). But here is set forth vividly, and very blessedly, the redeemed sinner’s position. This great Being had once before come to earth in person (and not once only).§ John had been so lovingly and tenderly familiar with Him that he had leaned on His bosom (John 13:23) and whilst there reclining had spoken to Him with the reverent freedom and happy confidence of a child dearly beloved (John 13:25); for we read that “there was leaning on Jesus’ bosom one of his disciples, whom Jesus loved” (who was John himself) and that “he then lying on Jesus’ breast saith unto Him, Lord,” &c. (John 13:23, 25). So then we see John’s—and every poor redeemed sinner’s—position before the being of awful majesty who was now with Him in this: He is His dearest Friend, his tenderest Lover, One whose eyes and affections move upon him with divine compassion, who was so much his dearest Friend that He once suffered the agonies of the Cross for him, bore the horrible insults of a mocking multitude for Him, and suffered for him the vengeance of His Father’s hidden face and divine wrath, which caused even Him to cry aloud in agony of spirit: “Eli! Eli! lama sabachthani?”—“why hast thou forsaken me?” (Matt. 27:46) “O my Father, if it be possible let this cup pass from me’” (Matt. 26:39). Great and awful though He is—and to the children of wrath fearful to contemplate (Eph. 2:3)—this is their position of blessed sonship before Him. For He says to John and to them—dread though in majesty He be—“Fear not: I am He that liveth, and was dead; and behold I am alive for evermore” (ver. 17, 18) and “because I live ye shall live also” (John 14:19); and the promise is that we shall see Him (1 John 3:2).
“And from the river of His love
Drink endless pleasures in.”
§ As the Angel of the covenant, appearing to the patriarchs.

MAY 29
“Remember the word unto thy servant, upon which thou hast caused me to hope”—Ps. 119:49.

The hope here indicated is greatly different to that of the worldling. The more the things of earth are examined, so far as stability is concerned, the less are they seen to be. The more the things of God are examined and dwelt upon by thought and experience, the deeper in worth and stability they grow. How comforting and how encouraging it is today to dwell upon the sure basis of what our many hopes rest upon: upon no less a basis than the word of God, “which liveth and abideth for ever” (1 Pet. 1:23, 25) and is a “sure word of prophecy” (2 Pet. 1:19). We desire, perhaps, to grow in grace. Indeed, we hope to do so. But what ground have we for this? What ground?—How much ground in the word of God! upon which we may go boldly to a throne of grace and plead: “O Lord, remember the word unto thy servant, upon which thou hast caused me to hope.” Is it not good ground? Is it not a good hope? We have not perhaps yet experienced the full sweet sense of the pardon of sins, but a precious hope has begun to flicker in our doubt-and-fear-darkened heart? Is it so? Are we true enquirers in Israel? How much ground have we in His precious word for this hope! Let us go with it to His throne of divine compassion and plead it, saying: “Remember the word unto thy servant, upon which thou hast caused me to hope!” Are we in search of comfort? He is “the God of all comfort” (2 Cor. 1:3). He has declared Himself in His word to be such. How many times He has done it. In how many varied manners He has done so. And our faith mixing with these declarations—and perhaps with some especial one above all—this His word is the ground of our hoping for comfort from Him. Whether the ground be many portions of His word, or one in particular. We are coming, and desiring to come, perhaps, to Him now for it. Why? Because of this ground for our doing so. For how many things we have reason to seek Him. Hopes have been raised in our hearts, which cause us to come, even if the hope only reach the height of a “may be” (2 Sam. 12:22: Jon. 3:9). Whatever hope it be, “let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace, to help in time of need” (Heb. 4:16), stating our hope to Him, and pleading its ground: “O Lord remember the word unto thy servant, upon which thou hast caused me to hope.”

MAY 30
“Heaven and earth shall pass away”—Matt. 24:35.
“It doth not yet appear what we shall be, but this we know, that when He shall appear we shall be like Him.” (1 John 3:2). “Eye hath not seen nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love Him.” (1 Cor. 2:9).

When cease the glories of the sky,
And all the grandeurs of the earth:
When all the pomps of creatures die,
With every breath that gave them birth;

When fair creation casts its charms,
And falls resistless to decay;
Whilst sinners sink in death’s alarms,
And saints arise to spotless day;

When all that’s mortal shall be flown:
My fading powers their force resign,
What, rising thence, shall still be known:
In heaven what new-found powers be mine?

How shall I thank, commune, and praise?
In what new fashion shall my voice,
Whilst then direct on Him I gaze,
In heaven’s new excellence rejoice?

How shall I worship: how converse
With all the dear white-washen throng?
In what new words His love rehearse?
What new-found strains will tune my tongue?

As man to insect, oak to seed,
As mountains unto atoms are:
A snail’s pace to the lightning’s speed,
Or as a rush-light to a star:

As each of these may be compared,
In such proportion magnified,
And then, perchance, still past compare,
Will every strength in thee reside.

As mortal to immortal is,
So every power enlarged will shine:
For He who is the Sun of bliss
Will change them with a touch divine.

Then from that touch each power will rise
Clothed with expansion formed to be
The lasting pleasure of His eyes:
The mirror of Infinity.— E. L.

MAY 31
“O give thanks unto the Lord, for He is good; for His mercy endureth for ever”—Ps. 107:1

These are words. They are in the word of God. They are expressed through the pen of “a man after God’s own heart” (Acts 13:22). No wonder that they attract our attention; that they have doubtless attracted the particular attention of God’s people for ages. What gracious words. But is this all they are to us? If so, then, though they be of much concern to God’s people, they have little, if any, present concern for us—except, indeed, it be, perhaps, to bring to mind our sad condition. To be of any real import to us they must have been made expressive of something in our hearts or experience of which words are only the outward garments. They must be something more than the written word of God. They must be His word put into our hearts, and thence—and thence only—springing to our lips. It is of no assurance to us merely that they are the words—and the inspired words—of “a man after God’s own heart,” unless they are made to us words after the feelings of our own God-quickened hearts. Who, then, can truly utter them? For whom may savour perhaps be hoped from their contemplation today? The Psalmist gives us immediate light on the subject in the next verse: “Let the redeemed of the Lord say so.” And he further adds one of the greatest reasons of their ability to say so, namely: because they are, each one, amongst those “whom He hath redeemed from the hand of the enemy,” though this is only one—if chief—ground for it, amongst a multitude. Is there, indeed, any more profitable occupation—besides, perhaps, communion at the Throne of Grace—than counting up our mercies? This may be a difficult question to decide, amongst so many soul-profiting occupations in the various means of grace. But it is certainly one often accompanied with the special blessing of God in the spirit. Then, if sensible, experimental recipients of His mercy, “Let,” today, “the redeemed of the Lord say so;” and endeavour to look over the wide field of His mercies, past, present, and eternal, and seek to join the Psalmist: not in words, not merely in God’s words, nor in the Psalmist’s words, but in the words of their own hearts inwardly prompted thereby: “O give thanks unto the Lord, for He is good; for His mercy endureth for ever:” for it is truth undoubted, and the mirror of the dealings of Him who hath “loved us with an everlasting love,” “who therefore with loving-kindness hath drawn us” (Jer. 31:3), “redeemed us from the hand of the enemy,” “who redeemeth our lives from destruction” (Ps. 103:4) and who “crowns us with loving-kindness and tender mercies” (Ps. 103:4).

“The tender mercies of the Lord
On those that fear His name,
For every thankful tongue afford
An everlasting theme.
By faith received, His flesh and blood
Shall life eternal give;
For He that eats immortal food,
Immortally must live.” (Gadsby’s, 828).