Fears Quieted
“This is the rest luherexvith ye may cause the weary to rest, and this is the —
“Jrar not; K am tfjc iTtrst ann tfje ILnst; 31 am t)t tijat libctfj, anlJ faas tirati; anU, bffjoitt, K am alibc for rbrrmorr, “Slmcn; anti fjaije tfje fetgs of pjatifs anH of tcatfj.”
—Rev. i. 17, 18.
Or, “I am the Living One.” John’s loving Lord had been lost from sight, ever since the hour when He was borne upwards to heaven from the heights of Olivet. How the orphaned Apostle must have mourned over the irreparable blank! How oft in thought would he retraverse these days of earth’s holiest and most sacred friendship — when he had walked by his Lord’s side, or leaned on His bosom, or listened to His words of divinest comfort! How often may he not have breathed the fond wish, in words which have enshrined themselves in many a bereft heart —
“Oh, for the touch of a vanished Hand,
And the sound of a Voice that is still!”
And yet he would remember, too, the Christ of Nazareth and Galilee is no longer the lowly Man of sorrows, the Pilgrim of pilgrims. He is exalted in heavenly state — a name is given Him which is above every name! When, therefore, he had the first startling intimation of the Divine apparition in Patmos; when he heard the trumpet heralding his Lord’s approach, saw the bright blaze of glory projected from His path, and listened to the announcement in whose presence he was — “I am Alpha and Omega, the first and the last” — he might have expected, on turning round, to gaze on some dazzling throne, gleaming with coruscations of Truth, and Holiness, and Righteousness — tiers of attendant angels and burning seraphim lining the celestial pathway! How different! He first sees a vision, and then hears a voice. Both are replete with comfort and consolation, and well fitted to dismiss and dispel all fear. The vision — It is the Lord holding a cluster of stars in His hand, and encircled with seven golden candlesticks; in gracious love moving in the midst of the Church militant; feeding each candlestick with the oil of His grace, and keeping every star in its sphere in the firmament. The voice — The vanished hand does touch, the stilled voice is once more heard: “He laid His right hand upon me, and said. Fear not.” It would recall to Him that memorable morning descent, after the night of seraphic bliss on the Mount of Transfiguration, when the heavenly messengers had come and gone, and he and his companion-Apostles were returning back to the dull world again. “Alone!” — “yet not alone!” “When they lifted up their eyes, they saw no man, siwe Jesus only.” Bereft they were of their celestial companions; but they had One compensating solace for all they had lost. The stars and satellites and moons had waxed and waned and departed — the taper-lights had been extinguished; but the great Sun still remained to illuminate their path, and perpetuate the bliss of that glorious Sabbatic hour. It was enough — they asked no more. With His love and presence to cheer them, they pursued their path, ready for duty, for trial, for suffering — animated by the sight of the crown, they descended more willing to bear the cross. So would it be now, in Patmos, as on Hermon.
We have, in this exquisitely tender dealing with John, an assurance of what Jesus is still. First, to His Church universal: — “in the midst of it “— keeping the oil from decaying, and the gold from tarnishing, and the stars from starting from their orbits. Then, also, what He is willing to be to every individual believer — the poorest, the humblest, the meanest, the most obscure — though his heart be a Patmos, lonely and desolate, and his home a desert rock, or a dungeon of captivity, or a hut of poverty, or a chamber of disease, or a bed of death: — there He is, to lay His right hand of love on the trembling one, and say,” Fear not! “Fear not, thou poor sinner, trembling under the load of thy guilt — * I am He that was dead; ‘My death is thy life. My blood thy plea. My cross the passport to thy crown. Fear not, thou weak and faint-hearted, borne down under thy corruptions, the strength of thy temptations, the weakness of thy graces, the lukewarmness of thy love —” I am alive for evermore; “Liv grace will be sufficient for thee. Fear not, suffering one: — thou art contending with a great fight of afflictions; trial after trial, like wave after wave, has been rolling in upon thee; thy house hath been swept, ties have been broken, graves opened — the tear scarce dry when made to flow again. Fear not! I have “the keys of the grave and of death.” Not one deathbed has been ordered, not one grave dug, not one tear permitted, without My bidding. Art thou not satisfied when a Living Redeemer has the Keys of Death suspended from His girdle. In whose keeping could they be better than in His? Art thou afraid to die? Is the thought of death, of thy coming dissolution, fearful to thee? “Fear not! I was dead/” I have sanctified that grave and that dark valley by traversing it all before thee. I am the abolisher of death; and to all my people I have made the gate of Death and the gate of Heaven one!
Jesus liveth: — what a motto and watchword for us! Many of the most loving and beloved of human friends come only, like Moses and Elias on the mount of which we have spoken, upon angel visits — illuminating the night of earth with a transient yet blessed radiance — then leaving us, like the disciples, amid the chill, gray mists of solitude — our path moist with dewy tears, as we hurry back once more to a cold, unsympathising world. But blessed antidote to all cares! blessed balm for all wounds! blessed compensation for all losses! blessed solace in all sorrows! — if we can descend from the mountain-heights of worldly bliss to the deepest valleys of humiliation and trial with Him still at our side. Jesus liveth! — the Living among the dead — Faithful among the faithless — Changeless among the changeable — the only unfailing, unvarying Friend in a failing, varying world. Jesus liveth! Then when Christ, who is our life, shall appear, we shall also appear with Him in glory. Like John, we will fall down at His feet and exclaim, “This God shall be our God for ever and ever!”
‘I love to hear that voice of old
Which over Patmos’ rocky shore
Thus sweetly spake, ‘I live; behold,
I am alive for evermore! ’
‘My Saviour lives! ’ — no mortal ears
Can listen to more joyous strains;
High above yonder rolling spheres
My God, and yet my I’rother, reigns.
“‘My Saviour lives!’ He intercedes
Still as the Lamb — the Crucified;
* Father, I WILL ’ — ’tis thus He pleads — Ne’er was the boon He asked denied.
f ‘My Saviour lives!’ — and still His heart
Responsive beats upon the throne
To every pang from which I smart;
He makes my tears and woes His own.
“‘My Saviour lives!’ — to see His face
My endless happiness will be;
Lord, independent of all place,
Where’er Thou art is Heaven to me I ’
“ye now therefore have SORROW; BUT I WILL SEE YOU
AGAIN, AND YOUR HEART SHALL REJOICE, AND
YOUR JOY NO MAN TAKETH FROM YOU.”