The Order of Life
Psalm xxvii. 5, 6 v.
“For in the time of trouble He shall hide me in His pavilion; He shall set me upon a rock; and now shall mine head he lifted up above mine enemies round about me.”
There are three stages in the spiritual life — the pavilion, the rock, and the mount. It begins in the secret of the pavilion. The troubles of the world are at first concealed from it. Life appears a more radiant thing than it really is. And it is well it should be so. We would never enter on the voyage if our first sight were not that of the summer sea. By-and-by the illusion vauishes. We come out from the pavilion which hides the troubles of life. We pass from innocence into struggle. We stand upon a rock — the symbol of defence, the sign of resisting strength. It is our ag;e of warfare, of battle, of temptation. At last comes the final stage — peace. Our head is lifted above our enemies; we are raised from the rock to the mountain, and look down. The struggle is over; the rest of the pavilion is restored. But it is no longer the rest of innocence. It is the calm of temptation conquered, the peace of sorrow vanquished, the silence of warfare passed. The quiet of age is better than the quiet of youth. Youth can hide me from my enemies; but age can lift me above my enemies.
Oh, my Father, lead me through this path of Thine. Give me Thy pavilion in life’s morning. Hide from my opening eye the storms of this world. Let me start with a vision of its beauty alone. And yet, I would not always dwell within Thy hiding-place. Bring me in time from the pavilion to the rock. I would know life as it is, by-and-by. I would meet its clouds; I would brave its storms; I would breast its billows. I would not have men say, “It was easy for him to live; he was hid all his life within a pavilion.” When I have seen the world in rose-colours for a little while, I would stand upon a rock and buffet the waves. But neither would I end here, oh, my Father. I know that there is a last state resembling the first. There is a haven where men repose, not by hiding, but by conquering. Lead me to that rest. It is not the rose-coloured rest of the pavilion; but it is better. It admits other colours than the rose; it brings in the whole rainbow. It vindicates the seared and yellow leaf. It tells me that youth is not the only fire that can kindle the flower. It tells me that there is a peace passing knowledge that can come through knowledge. Thy dove on the banks of Jordan is beautiful; but the angels that minister to the wilderness are more beautiful still. Lead me to the rest that lies beyond the rock. When Thou hast lifted up my head above my enemies, I shall not need the secret of Thy pavilion.