Deep Dealings and Silent Trust
’THB WELL IS DEEP.” — ^JOHK iv. II. VET NO HAN SAID, WHAT BEEEEST THOU? *’ — JOHN Iv. 27.
THESE two utterances, spoken by the woman
at the well of Samaria, have an appropriate
figurative application to very many — may
we say to all? — of the children of sorrow and bereavement!
“The Well is deep!” God’s providences are mysterious. No sounding-line of ours can fathom. “Thy judgments are a great deep!”
Yet not so. If Faith could confidingly let down its rope and pitcher, there would be no harsh verdicts, no questioning the rectitude of the Divine dispensations. Standing as we do, at present, at the well’s mouth and gazing upon its tremulous surface, we often cannot comprehend the mysteries of life and death. The secret is yet to be revealed. To use the language of Deborah’s ancient song of triumph, and keeping up the figure of the first of our motto-verses, there is now only “the noise of archers” at the brink of the well. But the day is coming when we too shall be able to take up her joyous strain: “They that are delivered from the noise of archers in the places of drawing water, there shall they rehearse the righteous acts of the Lord!”
There is a Jewish tradition regarding another of the sacred wells of Palestine (the well of the Wise Men between Jerusalem and Bethlehem), that when the Eastern Magi had at one time lost the gnidance of the mystic star, while stooping over this fountain they saw it once more reflected in its waters. Forthwith it guided them to the place where the young child was: — “When they saw the star, they rejoiced with exceeding great joy.” True, at all events, is this legend regarding God’s providential dispensations. At times we lose the guiding star; it is swept from our firmament; we travel on in darkness, in our shadowed way led in our sorrowful musing to exclaim, “Where is now my God?” But when on our bended knees we stoop over the well — aye, often in our very darkest night of mystery and sadness — lo! the heavenly light reappears; we see the lost star of Providence mirrored in the Fountain of Salvation. The work and the love of Christ explain what is otherwise often inexplicable. God our Maker — God our Redeemer — giveth “songs in the night.”
Take a kindred illustration. We all remember the night on the Sea of Tiberias; the thought of its unremunerated toil mingling with sadder, deeper, more sacred ponderings on Sis absence. But as morning with its faint earliest ray dawned on the silvery beach, there stood a well-known Figure. There was heard a well-known Voice, welcoming the disciples as “children” to the meal already prepared — “It is the Lord!”
So with the mourning believer and his night of tossing on the tempestuous waves. There is often a glorious and unexpected revelation of his Saviour-God even on the shores of Time. And if not here, that revelation will assuredly be made on the day-dawn of Heaven. Yet a little while, the darkness will be past; and lo! on the celestial shore a voice will be heard inviting tx) sit down at the banquet of love; and better than that on earthly lake-side, — a banquet with “no separation.”” It is the Lord ‘* — for ever!
Meanwhile, let us take the other recorded lesson at that same scene at the Well of Jacob, given in the second of our motto-verses — the silence of the disciples regarding what to them was mysterious and perplexing (ver. 27). Amid adverse providences, let it be the duty, the prerogative, the triumph of faith, to he silent What said David, under a complication of sad individual and family trial? “I was dumb with silence; I held my peace even from good.” “I was dumb, I opened not my mouth, because Thou didst it.” How often is this same duty of silence (in other words, of calm submission) under the dealings of God inculcated in Sacred Scripture! “Rest in the Lord (or in margin,” be sUeTU to the Lord “) and wait patiently for Him.” “Truly my soul waiteth (or is silent) upon God” (Ps. lxii. i). “Be silent, all flesh, before the Lord”
* Ps. zxxvii. 7.
(Zech. ii. 13). Or yet again in the sublime and striking prophecy of Habakknk. The prophet, though appalled by the judgments impending on the nation, and which the Divine lips had themselves uttered, resolves to be silent, and to say not, “What seekest Thou?” He resolves to wait for further disclosures of the Almighty’s will: “I will stand upon my watch, and set me upon the tower, and will watch to see what He will say unto me, and what I shall answer when I am reproved” (Hab. ii. i). And what is God’s first message to him? It is simply to continue silent; — to wait. “The vision is yet for an appointed time, but at the end it shall speak, and not lie; though it tarry, wait for it; because it will surely come, it will not tarry” (ver. 3). He compares and contrasts this silent, patient waiting with the restless invocations of the heathen to their dumb idols — calling upon them Twt to be silent, but to speak. “Woe unto him that saith to the wood, Awake; and to the dumb stone. Arise, it shall teach.” But he adds, “The Lord is in His holy temple; let all the earth keep silence before Him.” And then this silence is only broken by the prophet’s sublime prayer, in the first part of which he dwells on the mystery of God’s dispensations, in order that he may wind up with his grand peroration of faith and trust, and holy joy!
Blessed it will be for us, amid all these ’ frowning providences,’ if, instead of presuming in a spirit of unbelief and distrust, to ask, “What seekest Thou?”
vre are ready to hear the voice of the Unknown and Invisible saying, “Hold thee still, and know that I am God!”
“Let us enter into the defenced cities, and let us be silent there; for the Lord our God hath put us to silence” (Jer. viii. 14).
*’ THE COMFORTER IN MYSTERIOUS DEALINGS.
“And I will pray the Father and He shall give you another Comforter, that He may abide with you for «>«•.” — John xlv. 16.
“But when the Comforter is come, whom I will send unto you from the Father, even the Spirit qftru which proceedeth from the Father He shall testify of !/«.” — John XV. 26.
” In your patience possess ye your souls.” — ^Jajke nzi. 19.
Spirit Divine! grant us Thy gracious leadings;
Come breathe submission in the aching heart; And while before Thee rise our fervent pleadings,
More and still more Thy calming grace impart.
Come, like the dew which on Mount Hermon falleth;
Come, when bereavement dims the mourner’s eye; Come, when the “deep to deep” responsive calleth,
And with Thy comforts gem our starless sky.
Come, like the gentle dove, with olive-token;
Come, like the balmy wind, soft breathing peace; Come to all those with sorrow crushed and broken;
Dry every tear; bid every murmur cease.
Come, when the grave the darksome summons bringing, Early for loved ones we are called to weep;
Reveal their angel- voices sweetly singing — “So giveth He to His Beloved sleep!”