1. Our way does lie over the mountains. There are difficulties. The Christian course is like a Roman road which never turned aside, but went straight up and on. So much the better. A keener air blows, bracing and health-giving, up there. Mosquitoes and malaria keep to the lower levels.
2. There is always a path over the mountains. Some way opens when we get close up, like a path through heather, which is not seen till reached. We walk by faith. We foolishly forebode and fancy that we cannot live if something happens, but there is no _cul de sac_ in our paths if G.o.d"s mountain-way is our way, nor does the faint track ever die out if our faith is keen-sighted and docile.
II. The Pasture on the mountains--lit. "bare heights."
Pastures in the East are down in bottoms, not, like ours, upon the hills. But this flock finds supplies on the barren hill-tops.
Sustenance in Sorrow and Loss.
1. Promise that whatever be our trials and losses we shall be taken care of. Not, perhaps, as we should have liked, nor as abundantly fed as down in the valleys, but still not left to starve. No carcases strewed on the bleakest bit of road as one sees dead camels by the side of the tracks in the desert.
2. Promise of sustenance of a higher kind even in sorrow. The Alpine flora is specially beautiful, though minute. The blessings of affliction; the more intimate knowledge of His love, submission of will. "Out of the eater came forth meat."
"Pa.s.sing through the valley of weeping they make it a well"; the tears shed in times of rightly borne sorrow are gathered into a reservoir from which refreshment, patience, trust and strength may be drawn in later days.
But the perfect fulfilment of the promise lies beyond this life. "On the high mountains of Israel shall their fold be," and they who have found pasture on the barren heights of earthly sorrow shall "summer high in bliss upon the hills of G.o.d," and shall at once both lie "for ever in a good fold," and "follow the Lamb whithersoever He goeth," and find fountains of living water bursting forth for ever on these fertile heights.
THE WRITING ON G.o.d"S HANDS
"Behold! I have graven thee upon the palms of My hands; thy walls are continually before Me."--ISAIAH xlix. 16.
In the preceding context we have the infinitely tender and beautiful words: "Zion hath said, The Lord hath forsaken me. Can a woman forget her sucking child? ... yea, they may forget, yet will I not forget thee." There is more than a mother"s love in the Father"s heart. But wonderful in their revelation of G.o.d, and mighty to strengthen, calm, and comfort, as these transcendent words are, those of my text, which follow them, do not fall beneath their loftiness. They are a singularly bold metaphor, drawn from the strange and half-savage custom, which lingers still among sailors and others, of having beloved names or other tokens of affection and remembrance indelibly inscribed on parts of the body. Sometimes worshippers had the marks of the G.o.d thus set on their flesh; here G.o.d writes on His hands the name of the city of His worshippers. And it is not its name only, but its very likeness that He stamps there, that He may ever look on it, as those who love bear with them a picture of one dear face. The prophecy goes on: "Thy walls are continually before Me," but in the prophet"s time the walls were in ruins, and yet they are present to the divine mind.
I. Now, the first thought suggested by these great words is that here we have set forth for our strength and peace a divine remembrance, tender as--yea, more tender than--a mother"s.
When Israel came out of Egypt, the Pa.s.sover was inst.i.tuted as "a memorial unto all generations," or, as the same idea is otherwise expressed, "it shall be for a sign unto thee upon thine hand." Here G.o.d represents Himself as doing for Israel what He had bid Israel do for Him. They were, as it were, to write the supreme act of deliverance in the Exodus upon their hands, that it might never be forgotten. He writes Zion on His hands for the same purpose.
Now, of course, the text does not primarily refer to individuals, but to the community, whether Zion is understood, as the prophet understood the name, to be ancient Israel, or as the Christian Church. But the recognition of that fact should not be allowed to rob us of the preciousness of this text in its bearing on the individual. For G.o.d remembers the community, not as an abstraction or a generalised expression, but as the aggregate of all the individuals composing it.
We lose sight of the particulars when we generalise. We cannot see the trees for the wood. We think of "the Church," and do not think of the thousands of men and women who make it up. We cannot discern the separate stars in the galaxy. But G.o.d"s eye resolves what to us is a nebula, and to Him every single glittering point of light hangs rounded and separate in the heaven. Therefore this a.s.surance of our text is to be taken by every single soul that loves G.o.d, and trusts Him through Jesus Christ, as belonging to it, as though there were not another creature on earth but itself.
"The sun whose beams most glorious are, Disdaineth no beholder."
Its light floods the world, yet seems to go straight into the eyeball of every man that looks at it. And such is the divine love and remembrance. There is no jostling nor confusion in the wide s.p.a.ce of the heart of G.o.d. They that go before shall not hinder them that come after. The hungry crowd sat down in companies on the green gra.s.s, and the first fifty, no doubt, were envied by the last of the hundred fifties that made up the five thousand, and wondered whether the five loaves and the two small fishes could go round, but the last fed full as did the first. The great promise of our text belongs to me and thee, and therefore belongs to us all.
That remembrance which each man may take for himself--and we are poor Christians if we do not live in its light--is infinitely tender. The echo of the music of the previous words still haunts the verse, and the remembrance promised in it is touched with more than a mother"s love.
"I am poor and needy," says the Psalmist, "yet the Lord thinketh upon me." He might have said, "I am poor and needy, therefore the Lord thinketh upon me." That remembrance is in full activity when things are darkest with us. Israel said, "My Lord hath forgotten me," because at the point of view taken in the second half of Isaiah, it was captive in a far-off land. You and I sometimes are brought into circ.u.mstances in which we are ready to think "G.o.d has, somehow or other, left me, has forgotten me." Never! never! However mirk the night, however apparently solitary the way, however mysterious and insoluble the difficulties of our position, let us fall back on this, that the captive Israel was remembered by G.o.d, and let us be sure that no circ.u.mstances of our lives are so dark or mysterious as to warrant the faintest shadow of suspicion creeping over the brightness of our confidence in this great promise. His divine remembrance of each of His servants is certain.
But do not let us forget that it was a very sinful Zion that G.o.d thus remembered. It was because the nation had transgressed that they were captives, but their very captivity was a proof that they were not forgotten. The loving divine remembrance had to smite in order to prove that it was active. Let us neither be puzzled by our sorrows nor made less confident when we think of our sins. For there is no sin that is strong enough to chill the divine love, or to erase us from the divine remembrance. "Captive Israel! captive because sinful, I have graven _thee_ on the palms of My hands."
II. A second thought here is that the divine remembrance guides the divine action.
The palm of the hand is the seat of strength, the instrument of work; and so, if Zion"s name is written there, that means not only remembrance, but remembrance which is at the helm, as it were, which is moulding and directing all the work that is done by the hand that bears the name inscribed upon it. The thought is identical with the one which is suggested by part of the High Priest"s official dress, although there the thought has a different application. He bore the names of the twelve tribes graven upon his shoulder, the seat of power, and upon his breastplate that lay above the heart, the home of love. G.o.d holds out the mighty Hand which works all things, and says to His children: "Look, you are graven there"--at the very fountain-head, as it were, of the divine activity. Which, being turned into plain English, is just this, that for His Church as a whole, He does move amidst the affairs of nations. You remember the grand words of one of the Psalms,--"He reproved kings for their sakes, saying, Touch not Mine anointed, and do My prophets no harm." It is no fanatical reading of the history of earthly politics and kingdoms, if we recognise that one of the most prominent reasons for the divine activities in moulding the kingdoms, setting up and casting down, is the advancement of the kingdom of heaven and the building of the City of G.o.d. "I have graven thee on the palms of My hands"--and when the hands go to work, it is for the Zion whose likeness they bear.
But the same truth applies to us individually. "All things work together"; they would not do so, unless there was one dominant Will which turned the chaos into a cosmos. "All things work," that is very plain. The tremendous activities round us both in Nature and in history are clear to us all. But if all things and events are co-operant, working into each other, and for one end, like the wheels of a well-constructed engine, then there must be an Engineer, and they work together because He is directing them. Thus, because my name is graven on the palms of the mighty Hand that doeth all things, therefore "all things work together for my good." If we could but carry that quiet conviction into all the mysteries, as they sometimes seem to be, of our daily lives, and interpret everything in the light of that great thought, how different all our days would be! How far above the petty anxieties and cares and troubles that gnaw away so much of our strength and joy; how serene, peaceful, lofty, submissive, would be our lives, and how in the darkest darkness there would be a great light, not only of hope for a distant future, but of confident a.s.surance for the present. "I have graven thee on the palms of My hands "--do Thou, then, as Thou wilt with me.
III. A last thought here is that the divine remembrance works all things, to realise a great ideal end, as yet unreached.
"Thy walls are continually before Me." When this prophecy was uttered the Israelites were in captivity, and the city was a wilderness, "the holy and beautiful House"--as this very book says--"where the fathers praised Thee was burned with fire," the walls were broken down, rubbish and solitude were there. Yet on the palms of G.o.d"s hands were inscribed the walls which were nowhere else! They were "before Him," though Jerusalem was a ruin. What does that mean? It means that that divine remembrance sees "things that are not, as though they were." In the midst of the imperfect reality of the present condition of the Church as a whole, and of us, its actual components, it sees the ideal, the perfect vision of the perfect future, and "all the wonder that shall be." Zion may be desolate, but "before Him" stands what will one day stand on the earth before all men, "the new Jerusalem, coming down from heaven," having walls great and high, and its foundations garnished with all manner of precious stones. "Thy walls are before Me," though the ruins are there before men.
So, brethren, the most radiant optimism is the only fitting att.i.tude for Christian people in looking into the future, either of the Church as a whole, or of themselves as individual members of it. G.o.d"s hand is working for Zion and for me. It is guided by love that does not lose the individual in the ma.s.s, nor ever forgets any of its children, and it works towards the attainment of unattained perfection. "This Man"
does not "begin to build and" prove "not able to finish."
So let us be sure that, if only we keep ourselves in the love, and continue in the grace of G.o.d, He will not slack nor stay His hand on which Zion is graven, until it has "perfected that which concerneth us," and fulfilled to each of us that "which He has spoken to us of."
I said at the beginning of these remarks that G.o.d did what He bids us do. G.o.d bids us do what He does. His name should be on our hands; that is to say, memory of Him, love of Him, regard to Him, confidence in Him should mould and guide all our activity, and the aim that we shall be builded up for a habitation of G.o.d through the Spirit should be the conscious aim of our lives, as it is the aim which He has in view in all His dealings with us. Our names on His hand; His name on our hands; so shall we be blessed.
THE SERVANT"S WORDS TO THE WEARY
"The Lord G.o.d hath given me the tongue of them that are taught, that I should know how to sustain with words him that is weary; he wakeneth morning by morning, he wakeneth mine ear to hear as they that are taught."--ISAIAH l. 4.
In chapter xlix. 1-6, the beginning of the continuous section of which these verses are part, a transition is made from Israel as collectively the ideal servant of the Lord, to a personal Servant, whose office it is "to bring Jacob again to Him." We see the ideal in the very act of pa.s.sing to its highest form, and that in which it is finally fulfilled in history, namely, by the person Jesus. That Jesus was "Thy Holy Servant" was the earliest gospel preached by Peter and John before people and rulers. It is not the most vital conception of our Lord"s nature and work. The prophet does not here pierce to the core, as in his fifty-third chapter with its vision of the Suffering Servant, but this is prelude to that, and the office a.s.signed here to the Servant cannot be fully discharged without that ascribed to Him there, as the prophet begins to discern almost immediately. The text gives us a striking view of the purpose of Messiah"s mission and of His training and preparation for it.
I. The purpose of Christ"s mission.
There is a remarkable contrast between the stately prelude to the section of the prophecy in chapter xlix., and the ideal in this text.
There the Servant calls the isles and the distant peoples to listen, and declares that His mouth is "like a sharp sword"; here all that is keen and smiting in His word has softened into gentle whispers of comfort to sustain the weary.
A mission addressed to "the weary" is addressed to every man, for who is not "weighed upon with sore distress," or loaded with the burden and the weight of tasks beyond his power or distasteful to his inclinations, or monotonous to nausea, or prolonged to exhaustion, or toiled at with little hope and less interest? Who is not weary of himself and of his load? What but universal weariness does the universal secret desire for rest betray? We are all "pilgrims weary of time," and some of us are weary of even prosperity, and some of us are worn out with work, and some of us buffeted to all but exhaustion by sorrow, and all of us long for rest, though many of us do not know where to look for it.
Jesus may have had this word in mind, when He called to Him all them "that labour and are heavy laden." At all events, the prophet"s ideal and the evangelists" story accurately correspond. Christ"s words have other characteristics, but are eminently words that sustain the weary and comfort the down-hearted. Who can ever calculate the new strength poured by them into fainting hearts and languid hands, the all but dead hopes that they have reanimated, the sorrows they have comforted, the wounds they have stanched?
What a lesson here as to the n.o.blest use of high endowments! What a contrast to the use that so many of those to whom G.o.d has given "the tongue of them that are taught" make of their great gifts! Literature yields but few examples of great writers who have faithfully employed their powers for that purpose, which seems so humble and is so lofty, the help of the weary, the comfort of the sad. Many pages in famous books would be cancelled if all that had been written without consideration for these cla.s.ses were obliterated, as it will be one day.
But Christ not only speaks by outward words, but has other ways of lodging sustenance and comfort in souls than by vocables audible to the ear or visible to the eye on the page. "The words that I speak unto you, they are spirit and they are life." He spoke by His deeds on earth, and in one and the same set of facts, He "began to do and to teach," the doing being named first. He "now speaketh from Heaven" by many an inward whisper, by the communication of His own Spirit, on Whom this very office of ministering sustenance and comfort is laid, and whose very name of the Comforter means One who by his being with a man strengthens him.
II. The training and preparation of the Messiah for His mission.
The Messiah is here represented as having the tongue of "them that are taught," and as having it, because morning by morning He has been wakened to hear G.o.d"s lessons. He is thus G.o.d"s scholar--a thought of which an unreflecting orthodoxy has been shy, but which it is necessary to admit unhesitatingly and ungrudgingly, if we would not reduce the manhood of Jesus to a mere phantasm. He Himself has said, "As the Father taught Me, I speak these things." With emphatic repet.i.tion, He was continually making that a.s.sertion, as, for instance, "I have not spoken of Myself, but the Father which sent Me, He gave Me a commandment what I should say, and what I should speak ... the things therefore which I speak, even as the Father hath said unto Me, so I speak."
The Gospels tell us of the prayers of Jesus, and of rare occasions in which a voice from heaven spoke to Him. But while these are palpable instances of His communion with G.o.d, and precious tokens of His true brotherhood with us in the indispensable characteristics of the life of faith, they are but the salient points on which the light falls, and behind them, all unknown by us, stretches an unbroken chain of like acts of fellowship. In that subordination as of a scholar to teacher, both His divine and His human nature concurred, the former in filial submission, the latter in continual, truly human derivation and reception. The man Jesus was taught and, like the boy Jesus, "increased in wisdom."
But while He learned as truly as we learn from G.o.d, and exercised the same communion with the Father, the same submission to Him, which other men have to exercise, and called "us brethren, saying, I will put my trust in Him," the difference in degree between His close fellowship with G.o.d the Father, and our broken and always partial fellowship, between His completeness of reception of G.o.d"s words and our imperfect comprehension, between His perfect reproduction of the words He had heard and our faint, and often mistaken echo of them, is so immense as to amount to a difference in kind. His unity of will and being with the Father ensured that all His words were G.o.d"s. "Never man spake like this man." The man who speaks to us once for all G.o.d"s words must be more than man. Other men, the highest, give us fragments of that mighty voice; Jesus speaks its whole message, and nothing but its message. Of that perfect reproduction He is calmly conscious, and claims to give it, in words which are at once lowly and instinct with more than human authority: "All things that I have heard of My Father I have made known unto you." Who besides Him dare make such a claim? Who besides Him could make it without being met by incredulous scorn? His utterance of the Father"s words was unmarred by defect on the one hand, and by additions on the other. It was like pure water which tastes of no soil.
His soul was like an open vessel plunged in a stream, filled by the flow and giving forth again its whole contents.
That divine communication to Jesus was no mere impartation of abstractions or "truths," still less of the poor words of man"s speech, but was the flowing into His spirit of the living Father by whom He lived. And it was unbroken. "Morning by morning" it was going on. The line was continuous, whereas for the rest of us, at the best, it is a series of points more or less contiguous, but with dark s.p.a.ces between.
"G.o.d giveth not the Spirit by measure unto Him."
So, then, let us hold fast by Him, the Son in whom G.o.d has spoken to us, and to all voices without and within that would woo us to listen, let us answer with the only wise answer: "To whom shall we go? Thou hast the words of eternal life."