Jesus Christ the Heart's Guest
The advent of Jesus into a heart that is darkened by trouble is a wonderful source of joy. There is an ‘upper room” of the soul, an inner sanctum, of which we give up the key only to our nearest and dearest friends. It is inside of that “court of the Gentiles” which all our ordinary acquaintances are treading every day. That iimer chamber sometimes becomes what the room in Jerusalem was, on that night after the Master’s crucifixion — a place of sore sorrow. A bereaved and forlorn company indeed were the eleven disciples on that evening!
And we feel somewhat as they did. But into our soul’s private chamber — when the lights were burning low and the air is heavy 128 with grief or disappointment — there is One who enters! He comes in through the closed doors, and O, how sweetly sounds the voice of His love, as He says, “peace be unto you!” He shows us His hands pierced, and His side riven with the cruel spear for our sakes on His cross. When we recognize our divine guest, we are ready to say, in the language of Ray Palmer’s sweetest hymn,
“Earth has ne’er so dear a spot
As where we meet with Thee.”
At such times of communion with Jesus, we do not need to give to Him the honeycomb; He gives it unto us. Its effusive sweetness makes our lips to sing for joy. His consolations fill the room with their choice perfume. Then we can exultingly say “My beloved is mine and I am His; His left hand is under my head, and His right hand doth embrace me.” He spreads the banner of His love over us; we enter into a fellowship of His sufferings for us, and He with our griefs or disappointments. There is no sweeter, stronger fellowship 129 with Jesus than to unfold all our troubles to Him. He lifts off the load. Instead of the spirit of heaviness He giveth the garment of praise. Then like the disciples in the Jerusalem chamber *Sve are glad when we see our Lord.”
It was in anticipation of all the seasons of trial and perplexity and bereavement that should come upon His followers that our Lord gave this precious assurance, “Ye now have sorrow, but I will see you again, and your heart shall rejoice, and your joy no man taketh from you.” This joy — let us remember — flows from the actual spiritual presence of the Master with us. Peace comes when He comes and power comes also. We become strong with His strength and feel a fresh vigor steal over our fainting spirit. Dark hours bring no fears, for Christ’s voice is heard continually saying unto us, “It is I; be not afraid.”
To a true believer who is in this close heart-fellowship with Jesus, the largest fortune can add very little; and the loss of earthly property can take but little away. 130
Nothing can break down a soul that is firmly established in this conscious experience. It is united to Him; it is under His wing, and all the clouds that overcast the sky of poor worldlings sail far below it. The hailstorm of trials, adversities and assaults, under which evil men are cowed, cannot hail upward, or reach the believer in his safe place of refuge. His joy is above the reach of the thunderbolts. So Christ Jesus entering into Paul’s soul kept him serene amid the Euroclydon tempest — and made Peter to sing in the midnight dungeon; Patmos was no longer a lonely spot to the Beloved Disciple when the Master was with him there.
The more we have of Christ’s presence, the more serenely and securely happy we are. An empty heart is a wretched heart. A worldling’s treasures never satisfy; the more fuel that is heaped on the fire of covetousness the fiercer is the flame. I don’t believe that Rothschild’s millions can ever impart such exquisite joy as the saving of a soul gives to many a hard-toiling pastor or 131
Sunday-school teacher. The millionaire will count up his possessions at last and say, *Ts this all?” The true Christian inventories his treasures and says “All things are mine and I am Christ’s and Christ is God’s.” A believer’s true joy is love clasping Jesus, and faith looking forward to the endless fellowship of heaven. “A little while and ye shall see me; and where I am ye shall be also.”
If we make Jesus the guest of our hearts in this world, He will admit us to be His guest in the celestial mansion. When we return home from a long journey, it is not the house, the furniture or the fireside that gives us joy; it is the sight of the loved ones there. So in our Father’s House it will not be the pearl-gates or the golden streets; — we shall be glad when we see our Lord! In the language of Bonar’s sweet hymn — which I heard sung at his funeral —
“Christ will be the living splendor, Christ the sunlight mild and tender. Praises to the Lamb we render, Ah, ’tis heaven at last! 132
Broken death’s dread bands that bound us, Life and victory around us, Christ the King himself hath crowned us, Ah, ’tis heaven at last!