I Sleep, but My Heart Waketh
I sleep, but my heart “waketh: it is the voice of my beloved that knoeketiif
- ‘” defiled: for
the night,**
saymg, Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled: for my head is filled with dew, and my locks with the orops of
&c. — SoNO V. 2, to the end.
The passage I have read forms one of the dramatical scmgs of which this wonderful book is composed. The subject of it is a conversation between a forsaken and desolate inSe and the daughters of Jerusalem. First of all, she rdaies to them how, through slothfulness, she had turned away h«r lord from the door. He had been absent on a journey from home, and did not return till night. Instead it anxiously sitting up for her husband, she had barred the door, and slothfully retired to rest: “I slept, but my heart was waking.” In this half-sleeping, half- waking frame, t heard the voice of Kei beloved lli&Wid*. ‘^ O^^ to me wj ister, my lore, my dove, mj imdefiled; for my head is died with dew, and my locks with the drops of the night.” )iit sloth prevailed ynih her, and she would not open, but iDSwered him with foolish excuses: I have put off my coat; how shall I put it on? I have veashed my feet; how iball I defile them?”
2. She next tells them her grief and anxiety to find her lord. He tried the holt of the door, but it was fiistened. This wakened her thoroughly. She ran to the door and evened, but her beloved had withdrawn himself, and was gone. She listened — she sought about the door — she called «-bat he gave no answer. She followed him through the itreete; but the watdimen found her, and smote her, and took away her veil; and now with the morning light she appears to the daughters of Jerusalem, and anxiously beseeches them to help her: “I charge you, if ye find him whom my soul loveth, that ye tell mm that I am sick of love.”
3. The daughters of Jerusalem, astonished at her extreme anxiety, ask: “What is thy beloved more than another bdov?” This gives opportunity to the desolate bride to enlarge on the perfections of her lord, which she does in a itiain of the richest descriptiveness — the heart filling fuller and fuller as she proceeds, till she says: This is my beloved, and this is my fiiend, O ye daughters of Jerusalem! ‘’ They seem to be entranced by the description, and are now as anxious as herself to join in the search after this altogether lovely one. “Whither is thy beloved gone, O thou fiurest among women? whither is thy beloved turned aiide, that we may seek him with thee?”
Such is the simple narrative before us. But you will see at once that there is a deeper meaning beneath — that the sanative is only a beautiful transparent veil, through which every intelligent child of God may trace some of the most common experiences in the life of the believer. (1.) The doiolate bride is the believing soul. (2.) The daughters of Jerusalem are fellow-believers. (3.) The watchmen are ■imsters. (4.) And the altogether lovely one is our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.
L Believers often miss opportunities of communion with Christ through slothfulness.
I. Observe Christ is seeking believers. It is true tVit Chnst is Beeking unconverted souls. He stretdieB out lila hands all the day to a gainsaying and disobedient peoph he is the Shepherd that seeks the lost sheep; but it is as true that he is seeking his own people also — that he may make his abode with them — that their joy may be full Christ is not done with a soul when he has brought it to the forgiveness of sins. It is only then that he begins his regular visits to the soul. In the daily reading of the Word, Christ pays daily visits to sanctify the believing soul. In daily prayer, Christ reveals himseK to his own in that other way than he doth to the world. In the house of God Christ comes in to his own, and says: ‘’ Peace be unto you! “And in the sacrament he makes himself known to them in the breaking of bread, and they cry out: “It is the Lord!” These are all trysting times, when the Saviour comes to visit his own.
2. Observe Christ cUso knocks at the door of believers. Even believers have got doors upon their hearts.. You would think, perhaps, that when once Christ had found an entrance into a poor sinner’s heart, he never would find difficulty in getting in any more. You would think that as Samson carried off the gates of Gaza, bar and all, so Christ would carry away ail the gates and bars from believing hearts; but no, there is still a door on the heart, and Christ stands and knocks. He would fain be in. It is not his pleasure that we should sit lonely and desolate. He would fain come in to us, and sup with us, and we with him.
3. Observe Christ speaks: “Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled.” O what a meeting of tender words is here! — all applied to a poor sinner who has believed in Christ. (1.) “My sister;” for you remember how Jesus stretched his hand toward his disciples, and said: “Behold my mother and my brethren; for whosoever shall do the will of my Father, the same is my brother, and my sister, and my mother.” (2.) “My love;” for you know how he loved sinners — left heaven out of love — lived, died, rose again, out of love, for poor sinners; and when one believes on him, he calls him “My love.” (3.) “My dove;” for you know that when a sinner believes in Jesus, the holy dove-like Spirit is given him; so Jesus calls that soul “My dove.” (4.) “My undefiled” — strangest name of all to give to a poor defiled sinner. But you remember how Jesus was holy, harmless, and undefiled. He was that in our stead — when a poor sinner believes in
him, be is looked on as undeMed. Cbxvst says:” My un«
0BSMON xxxni. 225
ed.” Such are the wmning words with which Chiist
res to gain an entrance into the believe is heart. Oh,
strange that anj heart could stand ont against all this
•
. Observey Christ waits: ‘^ My head is filled with dew, m J locks with the drops of the niht.” Christ’s patience L unconverted souls is very wonderful. Day aner day (leads with them: “Turn ye, turn ye, why will ye die?” er did heggar stand longer at a rich man’s gate, than IS, the almighty Saviour, stands at the gate of sinful ms. But his patience with his own is still more woniil — they know his preciousness, and yet will not let
in-*their sin is all me greater, and yet he waits to heious.
Believers are often slothful at these trysting times, put the Saviour away with vain excuses. H.) The ’ of daily devotion is a trysting hour vrith Cnrist, in ;h he seeks, and knocks, and speaks, and waits;
yet, dear believers, how often you are slothful, and e vain excuses! You have something else to attend r you are set upon some worldly comfort, and you do et the Saviour in. (2.) The Lord’s table is the most )us tiysting-place with Christ. It is then that believers
him knocking — saying: ‘^ Open to me.” How often is opportunity lost through slothfidness — through want [rring up the gift that is in us — through want of attend-through thoughts about worldly things- — through unngness to take trouble about it! —
I have put off my coat; how shall I put it on?
I have washed my feet; how shall I defile them?
pubtless, there are some children of €kpd here, who did &nd Christ last Sabbath-day at his table — who went ’ unrefreshed and uncomforted. See here the cause — - 18 your own slothfulness. Christ was knocking; but RTould not let him in. Do not go about to blame God m Search your own heart, and you will find the true Perhaps you came without deliberation — without sxamination and prayer — without duly stirring up. Perhaps you were thinking about your worldly gains losses, and you missed the Saviour. Bemember, then, fault is yours, not Christ’s. He was knocking — you Id not let him in.
II. Believers in darkness cannot rest without C In the parable we find that, when the bride foui husband was gone, she did not return to her rest* ( her soul failed for his word. She listens — she seek calls. She receives no answer. She asks the wat< but they wound her, and take away her veil; still not broken off from seeking. She sets the daugh Jerusalem to seek along with her.
So is it with the believer. When the slothful I is really awakened to feel that Christ* has withdrawi sel and is gone, he is slothful no longer. Believ main at ease only so long as they flatter themselves 1 is well; but if they are made sensible, by a fall into by a fresh discovery of the wickedness of their heai Christ is away from them, they cannot rest. The can rest quite well, even while they know that tl not in Christ. Satan lulls them into fatal repose. the believer — he cannot rest. 1. He does all he himself. He listens — he seeks — he calls. The I searched with fresh anxiety. The soul seeks and c prayer; yet often all in vain. He gets no answer — n of Christ’s presence. 2. He comes to ministerswatchmen on the walls of Zion. They deal plain faithfully with the backslidden soul — take away t] and show him his sin. The soul is thus smitt wounded, and without a covering; and yet it does n over its search for Christ. A mere natural heart fall away under this — not so the believer in darknc He applies to Christian friends and companions — bic help him, and pray for him: “I charge you, O ye da of Jerusalem, if ye find him whom my soul loveth, t that I am sick of love.”
Is there any of you, then, a believer in darknes anxiously seeking Christ? You thought that y really been a believer in Jesus; but you have fall sin and darkness, and all your evidences are overc You are now anxiously seeking Christ. Your so for his Word. You seek — you call, even though i no answer. You do search the Bible, even th( is vnthout comfort to you. You do pray, thou| have no comfort in prayer — no confidence that; heard. You ask counsel of his ministers — and wh deal plainly with you, you are not offended. They jou, and take away the lell itom -jou. They tell y
0 rely on any past experiences — that they may hare been Idnave — they only increase your anxiety; still you follow lard after Christ. You seek the daughters of Jerusalem — them that are the people of Christ — and you tell them to pray for you.
Is this your case? As face answers to face, so do you see your own imaee here? Do you feel that you cannot rest out of Christ s then do not be too much cast down. This is no mark that you are not a believer, but the very KTeise. Say: —
Why art thon cast down, O my soul?
Why art thou disquieted in me?
Still trust in God; for I shall yet praise him.
Who is the health of my countenance, and my God.**
Is there any of you awakened, since last Sabbath-day, by some fall into sin, to feel that Christ is away from you? Doubtless, there must be some who, within this little week, We found out that, though they ate bread with Christ, they have lifted up the heel against him. And are yon fitting down contented — without anxiety? Have you fallen, nd do you not get up and run, that, if possible, you may ind Christ again? Ah, then! I stand in doubt of you — or rather, there is no need of doubt — you never have known the Saviour — you are none of his.
ni. Believers in darkness are sick of love and full Oj tfte commendation of Christ — more than ever.
In the parable, the bride told the daughters of Jerusalem that she was sick of love. This was the message she bade them carry; and when they asked her about her beloved, die gave them a rich and glowing description of his perfect beauty, ending by saying: “He is altogether lovely.”
So is it with the beUever in time of darkness: “He M rick of love.” When Christ is present to the soul, there is no feeling of sickness. Christ is the health of the coimtenance. When I have him full in my faith as a complete Borety, a calm tranquillity is spread over the whole inner Bum — the pulse of the soul has a calm and easy flow — the heart rests in a present Saviour with a healthy, piadd affection. The soul is contented with him — at rest in him: “Return imto thy rest, O my soul.” There is no feding of sickness. It is health to the bones; it is the very health of the soul to look upon him, and to love bixxi. But when the object of affection is away, the Yieait tvixnaa sick. When the heart searches here and there, and cannot find the beloved object, it turns faint with longing: “Hope deferred maketh the heart sick.” When the ring-dove bias lost its mate, it sits lone and cheerless, and will not be comforted. When the bird that hath been robbed of its joung, comes back again and again, and hovers with reluctant wing over the spot where her nest was built, she fills the grove with her plaintive melodies — she is ‘*> sick of love.” These are the yearnings of natiure. Such also are the yearnings of grace. When Jesus is away fix)m the believing soul it will not be comforted. When the soul reads, and prays, and seeks, yet Jesus is not found, the heart yearns and sickens — he is “sick of love.” “Hope deferred maketh the heart sick.”
Did you ever feel this sickness? Did you ever feel thai Christ was precious, but not present — that yon could not lay hold on Christ as you used to do, and yet your soul yearned after him, and would not be comforted without him? If you have — -1. Remember it is a happy sickness — it is a sickness not of nature at all, but of grace. All the struggles of nature would never make you “sick of love.” Never may you be cured of it, except it be in the revealing of Jesus! 2. Remember it is not best to be ^’sick of love” — it is better to be in health — to have Christ revealed to the soul, and to love him with a free, healthy love. In heaven, the inhabitants never say they are sick. Do not rest in this sickness; press near to Jesus, to be healed. 3. Most, I fear, never felt this sickness — know nothing of what it means. Oh! dear souls, remember this one thing: If you never felt the sickness of grace, it is too likely you never felt the life of grace. If you were told of a man, that he never felt any pain or uneasiness of any kind all his days, you would conclude that he must have been dead — that he never had any life; so you, if you know nothing of the sick yearnings of the believer s heart, it is too plain that you are dead — that you never have had any life.
Last of ally the believer in darkness commends the Saviour* There is no more distinguishing mark of a tine believer than this. To the unawakened there is no form nor comeliness in Christ — no beauty that they should desire him. Even awakened souls have no true sense of Christ’s perfect comeliness. If they saw how Christ answers their need, they could not be anxious* But to believers in darkness there is all comeliness in Christ — he is fairer than ever he was before. And when the sneering world, or cold-hearted brethren, ask: ‘’What is thy beloved more than another bdoved?^ he delights to enumerate his perfections, his person, his offices, his everything — he delights to tell that ‘’he is the chiefest among ten thousand” — “his mouth is most sweet” — yea, “he is altogether lovely.”
A word to believers in darkness* There may be some who are walking in darkness, not having any light Be persuaded to do as the bride did — not only to seek your lebved, hut to commend him, by going over his perfections.
1. Because this is the host of all ways to find him. One of the chief reasons of your darkness is your want of considering Christ. Satan urges you to think of a himdred things before he will let you think about Christ. If the eye of your faith he fully turned upon a full Christ, your ffiirkness vnll be gone in e instant. “Look unto me, and be ye saved.” Now, nothing so much engages your eye to look at Christ as going over his perfections to others.
2. Because you will lead others to seek him with you. Oh! dear brethren, the great reason of our having so many dark Christians now-a-aays is, that we have so many sel- &h Christians. Men live for themselves. If you would live for others, then your darkness would soon flee away. Commend Christ to others, and they will go with you. Parents, commend him to your children; children, commend him to your parents, and who knows but God may bless the word, even of a believer walking in darkness, that they shall cry out:
“Whither is thy beloved gone, O thou fkirest among women? Whither is thy belovea turned aside, that we may seek him with thee?”
St Peter’s, 1837