The Last Musing
“This is the ixst 7vhereioith ye may cause the locaiy to rest, and this is the refreshing” —
“©catfj is sbjalloiucli up in Ftctorg.” — i Cok. xv. 54.
Jra, tfjougfj C iBnli? tfjroiigFj tfjc faallrg of tlje sfjatiobj of tifatfj, 2 iuill fear no rfatl: for ^Tfjou art Snttfj the; ©fjg ro5 anU STfjg staff tfjEg comfort me.” — Ps. xxiii. 4.
W^t last
ilHusmg.
“Rest.”” Refreshment.’
How can such
words be employed regarding Death? How can shade of EUm-palm be spoken of with reference to that dark Valley, in connection with which the yew and the cypress have always been accepted as the appropriate symbols? In the oldest Epic poem of the world, indeed, the grave is spoken of as the place where “the weary are at rest.” But with death itself, there is usually associated no such restful, reposeful thought. Though the last enemy — it is still an enemy! Nevertheless, thanks be to God, there is here, too, a palm-grove for His true people. These fronds have no louder or more tender ’ whispering of the name of Jesus,’ and His exceeding great and precious promises, than at a dying hour! A traveller in Palestine remarks literally, what we may take allegorically, that” the finest and best palm-trees are along
THE BANKS OF THE JORDAN.”
“I am persuaded that... death shall not separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” “Thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory, through our Lord Jesus Christ.” Bunyan represents even the timorous pilgrim Much- Afraid, as “going through the stream singing.” Yes, there is a real companionship in that closing scene. There is a Tree which can make these waters of Marah sweet. The column of cloud and fire, which has gone before in the wilderness, will not forsake in the swelling of the Border river.
And this is no mystical figure — no mere poetical or sentimental illusion. It is a wondrous fact. Thousands who have passed through the final conflict can bear witness to it — the felt fiearness of the Saviour. No one who has had any experience of deathbeds but can testify, that there is often the sublime consciousness of a Presence there — as if the dying pilgrim rested on a living Arm, and the place became a Peniel, where, like the patriarch, the wrestling soul saw God face to face!
How can we, with lowly confidence and hope, look forward to a similar hour? It is by having Christ as our portion notv., if we would have Him as our portion tJien. What was it that gave David this confidence in the prospect of treading the closing Valley? It was the conscious nearness — the realised presence of Jehovah his Shepherd, in life. He was even then rejoicing in this companionship and love. See how near he felt Him to be! Observe the phraseology of the second of our motto-verses — the form of utterance. It is not “I will fear no evil, for Thou art to be with me,” nor is it “for God is with me,” but “Thou art with me.” He seems to look up with trustful faith to Him who was even then at his side. He speaks not of a remote Being, who would meet him at the valley-entrance — a mere guide through the gloom of that strange gorge at the end of the journey, but who at other times is unknown and distant. It is the Friend he has known and confided in so long. It is the Shepherd of whom, in the opening strain of the song, he said, that Shepherd is mine — “The Lord is my Shepherd.” It is He whose guiding hand had led him by “the green pastures,” and “the still waters,” and “the paths of righteousness.”
And was the Psalmist deceived? Did this song of life prove a delusion when the hour of death came? Could he sing it so long as his journey was carpeted with flowers and radiant with sunshine? but did his faith forsake him, and his rod and staff give way, and his song melt into a wail of terror, when the shadows fell around? We have his last words recorded. We have the very hymn which this Hebrew minstrel sang, when the valley-gloom was beginning to darken his path, and the sound of the waters of death fell on his ear: “He hath made with vie an everlasting covenant, ordered in all things, and sure. This is ail my salvation, and all my desire I” So also was it with him who uttered the triumphant exclamation of the former verse placed at the head of this meditation. He who had so fondly loved and prized the shelter of the Elim-grove in life, could exult, even amid the lowering clouds which shrouded the closing hours of a consecrated existence — “I am not ashamed: for I know Whom I have believed, and am persuaded that He is able to keep that which I have committed to Him:”
And God is ever faithful who promised, “As thy days, so shall thy strength be.” “Thou art with me,” says Lady Powerscourt, “is still the rainbow of light thrown across the Valley.” Nor will that solemn, mysterious hour be allowed to overtake us till the Lord of life sees meet. This is surely a comforting reflection (which we had occasion also to dwell upon in the immediately preceding meditation), that life and death are in His hands: that what appears to us to be the most wayward and capricious of occurrences — the departure of a human being from this world — is directly under His sovereign control; that He gives the lease of existence; and, when He sees meet, revokes the grant? Sweetly sings one of the minstrel-band of German hymn-writers: —
“My God, I know not when I die:
What is the moment or the hour,
How soon the clay may broken lie,
How quickly pass away the flower;
“My God, I know not hmv I die:
For death has many ways to come;
In dark mysterious agony,
Or gently as a sleep to some.
“My God, I know not where I die;
Where is my grave; beneath what strand?
Yet from its gloom I do rely
To be delivered by Thy hand!
“Then comes it right and well to me,
When, where, and how, my death shall be!”
Death has no terrors, when it comes thus as a message from death’s great Conqueror. He sends His angels — glorious beings who delight to do His pleasure — to the bedsides of His saints, to bear their spirits on wings of light and love upward to heavenly mansions.
“For them the silver ladder shall be set, —
Their Saviour shall receive their latest breath: They travel to a fadeless coronet, Up through the Gate of death!”
U “Father, I will” (is His last and closing intercessory prayer in behalf of every member of the Church on earth), “that they also, whom Thou hast given Me be with Me where I am; that they may behold My glory.”
“There is no death! What seems so is transition;
This life of mortal breath
Is hut a suburb of the Life Elysian,
Whose portal we call death.”
It is the portal and portico of “our Father’s house.” As we stand under the porch, the archway over our head projects a shadow. We are for a moment out of life’s sunshine. But the next! the door opens; and better than the blaze of earthly sun is ours. The darkness is past, and the true light shineth. In an instant, from the gloomy Valley of Cypresses, we are among the Palms of Paradise!
“In the stillness and the starlight,
In sight of the Promised Land,
We thought of the bygone pilgrimage,
And the burning, blinding sand.
“How gracious, too, had been the dews,
Which from God’s presence fell;
And the hallowed hours of resting
By Palm-grove and by Well.
“But now we pitched our final tent,
The desert journey done,
For the glorious hills of the Better Land
Gleamed in the setting sun.
“A river — the Border river
Was seen in the dying light,
The rush of its swelling waters
Was heard in the deepening night.
“We sit under Heavenly palm-trees
In the dawn of Eternal day,
And look toward the desert hill-tops,
^Yhere the misty shadows play.
“The great and terrible land
Of wilderness and drought,
Lies in these shadows behind us,
For the I-ord has ’ brought us out.’
“The great and terrible river
Which we stood by night to view,
Is left far off in the darkness,
For the Lord has ‘brought us through.’”
BLESSED BE THE LORD, THAT HATH GIVEN REST UNTO HIS PEOPLE ISRAEL, ACCORDING TO ALL TH.T HE PRO-MISED: THERE HATH NOT FAILED ONE WORD OF ALL HIS GOOD PROMISE WHICH HE PROMISED.”
“THERE REMAINETH THEREFORE A REST FOR THE PEOPLE OF GOD.”
mu Soul;
for
t!je ILorti fjatf) Uealt fiountifuHu
—PSALM CXVI. 7.