Guidance and Glory

“Thou shalt guide me with Thy counsel, and afterward receive me to glory.” — Psa. lxxiii.24.

TN this Psalm troubled men find help A when they need help. It is like the balustrade which leads up from the dark cellar to the upper world, with its air of light and beauty; let us lean hard on it, or rather on Him, who is just beneath the surface of its words.

There are some troubles which strong men may account themselves equal to bear in the energy of their own strength; but there are others so crushing, so terrible, that the heart utterly fails. The pruning-knife is so sharp, the cleansing fire so keen, the cup so bitter.

The psalmist here specifies the cause of one of these bitter troubles, as he tells us how perplexed he was with the mysteries of God’s providence. The inequalities of life; the prosperity of the wicked; and the sorrows of the saints; why the ungodly prosper, while the waters of a full cup are wrung out to God’s people — these things have always been amongst the things hard to be understood; and in the case of the good Asaph, as he sought to know and understand them, his feet had almost gone, his steps had well-nigh slipped.

And there are other sorrows which come to men — when the love cools which had once lit up their lives; when the prop on which they leaned is removed; when the hand that was tightly grasped in theirs relaxes its grip; when some evil thing that had entwined itself with the stronglimbs of service has to be deliberately plucked away; when the face has to be resolutely turned back from some door into bliss to take a lonely and desert path, and the smile of the summer garden is exchanged for the cold grey of the limestone rock. To bear all this with the anointed head and washed face! Not filling the air with complainings, or seeking to attract the pity of others; but suffering alone, and dumb with silence. Ah, how little do we know of what is passing beneath the surface-lives of those we meet continually! We are like houses, through the windows of which now and again a face looks out; but the most of all that happens within is hidden.

But how shall we meet these troubles?

There is no better way than to go into the sanctuary of God, (17). There earthly voices are hushed, and even the voice of passion is stilled. The glare of earth is replaced by those quiet neutral tints which rest the brain. The soul is able to see things from the standpoint of God and eternity, and so weigh them in the balances of the other world. We cannot judge of things as they really are whilst we are living in the busy stir of the world, and amid the hum of human voices. There is no such place for meditation as the shrine of worship, though it may be a quiet walk amid trees and meadows, beside tranquil lakes, or within the sound of the ocean wave breaking on the beach. And sorrow is almost a blessing if it drives us here. “Blessed are they that dwell in Thy house; they will still be praising Thee.” Next we may well look on to the end of things (17). Amid the agony of Job’s trial, he might well have been strong could he have seen the end of the Lord, how very pityful He is, and of what tender mercy. The way is dark, and the stones cut the tender feet; but the Shepherd knows that the green pastures and waters of rest, to which He leads, will more than recompense. Oh, trust Him, my brother! You cannot see the goal; but He does, and He has been there to prepare it for you. Wait for Him and be stilL He may seem to sleep; but the boat is making progress through the storm, and when He awakes, the keel will stand at the very point where you would fain be. “Thou shalt guide me with Thy counsel, and afterward receive me to glory.”

And then, best of all, we must be carefid to maintain the Blessed life. When in winter the short daylight fades off the world, we gather to our lamps and and fires, and the glow steals through the curtains on the passers-by. So, when all our life is wrapped in gloom, we must betake ourselves more vigorously to the cultivation of the Blessed Life. The sap which was making leaves must now go into fruit.

And what is the Blessed Life? It is well described in the exquisite strophe with which the Psalm closes (23-28). To be continually with God, cultivating the momentary sense of His presence. To feel that heaven is heaven because He is there; and that earth need not be so lonesome if He is left. “Thou remainest.” To count on Him more and more as the strength of the heart, and the Divine portion of the soul; to draw near unto him in thought, and musing, and desire, in the study of His Word and prayer; to trust in Him, and declare His works to others. These are some of the phases of the Blessed Life.

Its essence consists, not in the emotions, but in the will; in the attitude assumed, perhaps almost unconsciously at the moment of conversion, at some subsequent time. When the will is in this attitude, adjusted, subjugated, surrendered, the nature of man comes to rest, as a boat anchored at stem and stern on the bosom of a tranquil sea; which only moves quietly as the gentle undulations, the exhausted movement of some long-spent storm, pass beneath the keel, or the wavelets break musically against its sides. There may be tremendous force, abounding activity, the incessant demands of varied interests; but the fret and chafe are gone, for the nature has found the true law and aim and ambition of its existence in becoming an organ through which the will of God is done, even as it is done in heaven. When the God of peace adjusts us to do His will in every good work, then we have the peace of God as a sentinel keeping the heart and garrisoning the mind.

The nature which is in harmony with the will of God is at one with all the holy beings in heaven and on earth — with the stars and their courses; with the inner spirit of nature; with the underlying principles of true blessedness; and, above all, with the nature of Jesus, in whom the Divine and human blend perfectly; and so we come to know Him after an intimate and blessed sort. Remember how He said, “Whosoever shall do the will of My Father, the same is My brother, and sister, and mother.” He knows us, and we know Him; He loves; and we love; He lives and we live also. There is generated thus a Divine companionship. All happy things, and all sad ones; all work in the world He loves so well; all travail for souls; all the lights and shades of life are shared with Him, our Kinsman, Brother, Lord; and into His resources we dip our handsxonstantly, unstintingly, knowing that we are ever with, Him, and that love likes the loved to share its stores.

This is the ideal life; but not an ideal alone, thank God, in ten thousand instances. For many of us who read these words know it by glad enjoyment; if not through all the year, at least in bright parentheses, set in brackets of gold amid the darker letterpress of ordinary experience.

But why are these experiences not more permanenty We read that “Daniel continued.” Oh to be steadfast and unmovable! In order to do this, let us remember the following principles.

(i) We must always distinguish between our emotions, and our attitude. The one may die off our lives like the sunset glory from the ridges of the Alps, that seem so grey and cold when it is gone; but the other should resemble the changeless perpetuity of the everlasting hills, unaltered by the transitions of the ages, or the alternations of day and night. You may not always feel as happy, but you can always say “Yes” to the will of God, and realize your attitude in the risen, ascended, loving Jesus, amongst the thousand thousands that minister to Him. In moments of depression, be sure to live in your will and His will.

(2) We must be careful to maintain this attitude of the will unaltered. God is constanly putting into our lives little or greater occasions of testing. He presents us with His will hidden in a choice, which may be a stepping-stone or a stumbling-block. It is necessary, therefore, to be keenly on the alert for these occasions; lest almost unconsciously our will start back from the attitude it was led to assume, instead of riveting more firmly than ever the blessed yoke of allegiance. Unless we are watchful in applying to each new point the principle of surrender, which we have assumed, we may drift from full face, to three-quarter, and half-face before we are aware.

(3) We must exercise ourselves to have the “conscience void of offense toward God and toward men.” It is a great secret to maintain, not a scrupulous, but a sensitive conscience; and whensoever the clear surface of the mirror is blotted or blurred by the slightest mist, to search out the cause, and at all costs rectify it. Conscience and the Holy Ghost are expressly allied by the apostle — the crystal stone ever bathed in the translucent glory of heaven.

(4) We must ever keep our heart open to the Holy Spirit. It is His province and prerogative to nurture the inner life, and to fill it with the realized presence of the Lord. Sometimes it is wise definitely to seek by faith to receive an infilling of His Presence, and to believe that the faith which can claim, most certainly receives. At other times, or ever we are aware, through an open casement in our heart there is wafted the breath of heaven, laden with spicery and balm. We often take the word out of His hands, pulling up our flowers by the roots to see if they are growing; or worrying because we think we are not learning our lessons quickly enough. We forget that the Father is the Husbandman; and that if only we are receptive enough and willing, He will fulfill in us the gook pleasure of His goodness, and the work of faith with power. The responsibility of realizing in us all that our nature is capable of must lie yonder on His shoulders; the receptivity of His Holy impulses, and compliance with the least of them, is all that rests on us.

(5) We must be very careful to maintain unbroken the habits of the devout life. Too many are like the slip-carriage, which runs for a little from the impulse received from the engine, but then slackens till it comes to a stand; instead of resembling that which keeps its connection with the speed and strength of the locomotive. Even when we had lost our immediate taste for devotional exercises, let us still pursue them; some of our gladdest hours have been those in which we have made a conscious effort to break through the lethargy and sluggishness of the soul.

I have found these things helpful. (a) Not to read newspaper or light literature in the early morning; nor then or at any other time to dissipate the energies of the soul on that which does not profit.

(b) Relaxation and recreation of mind and body are, of course, needful and right. They must be attended to, or even our spiritual life will become impaired. It is wisdom on the part of the fisherman to cease net-casting, that he may set himself to net-mending.

(c) To have always in reading some spiritual or devotional book, that touches specially on the inner life in its deepest aspect, and to devote some part of the morning hour to its perusal.

{d) To Feed on Christ in His Word, and in the frequent observance of His holy supper, which is always a great means of grace and nourishment to my soul.

(e) To cultivate the habit of converse with Christ, whilst walking in the streets, and especially in the country, or whilst engaged in any occupation. There is always time to look up to Him for His smile.

if) To engage much in Christian converse with those who are deeply versed in these things, and have had close dealings with the Lord. It is when brethren talk together and reason that the Lord draws near to go with them, and their hearts catch fire and burn.

In a laundry, the other day, I saw two kinds of irons. One, the usual sort, needing to be put on a heated furnace at frequent intervals to fit them for their work. The other, in which the iron was attached by a flexible guttapercha tube to the gas-pipe, so that it was easy to use it, and inside the iron a jet of flame, fed by the gas, which maintained it at regular temperature, and counteracted the chilling effects of its work. Is it not this that we want? Not depending on the outside stimulus of a convention, a mission, or a sermon; but receiving straight from God Himself that inward fire of the Holy Ghost, to give and perpetuate which is the dearest passion of the hearer of Jesus.

All this will cost us something; the daily dying to self; saying “No” to the flesh; the cutting of hand and foot; the dropping down into the earth to die: but these sufferings are not worthy to be compared with the growing glory of our life, or its blessedness, or its fruitfulness.

And so it shall be that, as we nourish the Blessed life, in all its beauty, till it become the habit of our being, there will come to us a great sense of rest amid trouble, of sweet singing, amid the earthquake that causes the prison-house to rock. God permits the pain, that we may be driven in to Himself in the very desperation of our souls.