The Wilderness After Jordan

“Then was Jesus led tip of the Spirit into the wilderness.” — Matt. iv. i.

Then was Jesus led up. Surely it was a strange time for such a catastrophe. Was it not just after the glorious vision on the banks of Jordan, when the heavens had been opened to His sight, and the dove-like Spirit had descended on His soul, and the Father’s voice had sounded in His ear, “This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.” After such a vision, after such a voice, one would have thought that there was no room in His life for a wilderness any more; yet it was then, and at no other time, that the wilderness appeared. I too have betimes been forced to repeat this experience of my Lord. I have sat down at the table of communion, and it has seemed to me as if heaven were for ever opened. All clouds have vanished from my path, and the silence has been broken by the benediction of a Father’s voice, and the dove-like Spirit has whispered in my ear the promise of a peace that passeth knowledge. But then anon the shadows have gathered anew. The table of communion has been withdrawn, and the Divine voice has seemed to be silent, and that which was once the garden of the Lord has been transformed into the solitudes of the wilderness. I have asked myself in surprise wherefore my soul has been thus disquieted. Why has the glory of my morningfaded Why has the glad promise of peace been broken? I went out, like the Psalmist, with a multitude that kept holy clay, and I have returned alone. Why art Thou so far from helping me, 0 my God?

My soul, thou art disquieted without a cause. Thy God is not far from helping thee; thy God has never left thee for a moment; He has passed with thee from the Jordan into the wilderness. It is the Spirit that leads thee up into the wilderness. He would not have fulfilled His promise of peace had He left thee on the banks of Jordan. The vision of the opened heavens was only peace from the storm, but the promise He made to thee was a promise of peace in the storm. That promise He can only keep in the wilderness. What proof wouldst thou have of His love? Wouldst thou have purple and fine linen, and sumptuous faring every day? That would not be a peace which passeth knowledge; it would be a peace explainable by earthly causes. But if the clouds should gather, if the stars should go out, if the night winds should blow and beat upon the house of thy life, and if through all that life should be strong and steadfast, then verily thou hast a peace not given by the world — a peace independent of the earth, defiant of the wilderness. If the dove that lighteth from the opened heavens can abide when the heavens have been closed, thy bright experience at Jordan shall be proved to be no dream.