Borrowed Lights for a Dark Landing-Place

“That which hath been is named already, and it is known what man is: neither may he contend with him that is mightier than he. Seeing there be many things that increase vanity, what is man the better? For who knoweth what is good for man in this life, all the days of his vain life which he spendeth as a shadow? for who can tell a man what shall be after him under the sun?” — ECCLES. vi. 10 — 12.

You have ascended a staircase which, inside the solid rock, wound up from the sands of the sea shore to green fields and beautiful gardens. Some what of this sort is the structure of Ecclesiastes. And now we have reached the half-way landing-place, the dimmest and coldest station in the entire ascent; and very mournful is the strain in which our moralist reviews his progress. “Fate is fixed, and man is feeble; joy is but a phantom, and life a vapour, and darkness veils the future.” Truly, we have need to borrow lamps and suspend them in this dark place. We must send for some brighter minstrel; for our hearts will break if we only listen to the bard of vanity.

I. Fate is fixed. “That which hath been or which is to be, hath been named already; neither may man contend with him that is mightier than he.” All the past was the result of a previous destiny, and so shall be all the future. Everything is fate. Such is the sentiment of the third chapter, and such appears to be the import of this passage. “Since fate bears sway, and everything must be as it is, why dost thou strive against it?”

Brethren, is there never such a feeling in your minds? Do you never feel as if you were the subjects of a stern ordination? Do you never say, “I must obey my destiny? It is of no use contending with fate. Mine is an unlucky star, and I can change neither my nature nor my nativity; so I must bide my time and take my doom.” Do you never feel as if you were driven along a path over which you have no control, and as if the power propelling you were a blind and inexorable necessity?

Partly imbibed from the old classics, and partly from a sound theology sullenly spoken; and partly indigenous to the human heart, which, even when it does not believe in God and in Jesus, cannot believe in chance, the feeling now expressed is far from rare; and just as it seems to have visited Solomon in the thoughtful interludes of his vanity, so the more pensive and musing spirits are likely to feel it most. As it contains a certain admixture of truth, on a principle which we have frequently * Marcus Antoninus xii. 13.

adopted in these lectures., we shall go to a greater than Solomon in order to get that partial truth corrected and completed.

In the outset, it must be conceded that the Saviour assumed a pre-ordination in all events. He was constantly using such language as this: “The hour is come;” “The hairs of your head are all numbered;” “Your names are written in heaven;” “Many be called, but few chosen;” “No man can come to me, except the Father draw him;” “For the elect’s sake, whom He hath chosen, God hath shortened the days;” “To my sheep I give eternal life.” But then, what sort of pre-ordination was it which the Saviour recognised? Was it mechanical, or moral? Was it blind destiny, or a wise decree? Was it the evolution of a dark necessity, or “the determinate counsel and foreknowledge of God?” Was it the fiat of an abstract law, or the will of a living Person? In one word, was it FATE, or was it PRO VIDENCE?

Most comforting is it to study this doctrine with the great Prophet for our tutor, and so to see the propitious aspect which it bears when rightly understood. As interpreted by “the only-begotten Son from the bosom of the Father,” that pre-arrangement of events which the theologian calls predestination, arid which the philosopher calls necessity, and which old heathenism called fate, is nothing more than the will of the Father, — the good pleasure of that blessed and only Potentate whose omniscience foresaw all possibilities, and from out of all these possibilities whose benevolent wisdom selected the best and gave it being. And he alone can understand election, or exult in Providence, who in right of the Surety can look up to God as his Father, and so take the same views of the Father’s purposes as the Saviour took, equally revering the majestic fixity of the firm decree, equally rejoicing in its wise foresight and paternal kindness. “Fear not, little flock; it is your Father’s GOOD PLEASURE to give you the kingdom.” “I thank Thee, 0 Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because thou hast hid these things from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes. Even so, Father; for so it seemed good in thy sight” “The hour is come, that the Son of man should be glorified. Father, glorify thy name.” And just as you might imagine some poor wandered child waking up amidst the din and tumult of a factory, and cowering half- delinquent, half-stupified, into his dusky corner, — afraid lest this thunderous enginery rush in on him and rend him to pieces, and still more paralyzed when he perceives in its movements the indications of an awful order, — the whole spinning and whirling, clashing and clanking, in obedience to a mysterious and invisible power. But whilst he is watching from his hiding-place, another child comes in, of an age about his own; and this other walks fearlessly forward, for his father leads him by the hand, and shows him the beautiful fabrics which are flowing forth from all the noisy mechanism; or if there be some point in their progress where there is risk to his child from the flashing wheels, he speaks a word and that portion stands still; for his father is owner of it all. So to the poor waif of mortality, the outcast child of apostate Adam, — to the godless spirit waking up in this world of rapid revolution and tumultuous resonance, there is an awful aspect of fatality on the one side and a crushing sense of impotence on the other. So selfish is man and so cruel is the world; so strange are life’s reverses, and so irresistible is the progress of events, that he momentarily expects to be annihilated by the strong and remorseless mechanism; — when, in the midst of all the turmoil he perceives one of like passions with himself walking calmly up and down, and fearing no evil, for his Father is with him, and that Father is contriver and controller of the whole. So, my friends, it depends on our point of view whether the fixed succession of events shall appear as a sublime arrangement or a dire necessity. It depends on whether we recognise ourselves as found lings in the universe, or the children of God by faith in Jesus Christ, — it depends on this, whether in the mighty maze we discern the decrees of fate, or the presiding wisdom of our heavenly Father. It depends on whether we are still skulking in the obscure corner, aliens, intruders, outlaws; or walking at liberty, with filial spirit and filial security, — whether we shall be more panic-stricken by the power of the mechanism, or more enchanted with its beautiful products. It depends on whether we are spectators or sons, whether our emotion towards the Divine foreknowledge and sovereignty be, “0 fate, I fear thee,” or, “0 Father, I thank thee.”

II. Man is feeble. “It is known what man is; neither may he contend with him that is mightier than he.” And Christless humanity is a very feeble thing. His bodily frame is feeble. A punctured nerve or a particle of sand will sometimes occasion it exquisite anguish; a grape-seed or an insect’s sting has been known to consign it to dissolution. And man’s intellect is feeble; or, rather, it is a strange mixture of strength and weakness: —” Go, wondrous creature! mount where science guides;

Go, measure earth, weigh air, and state the tides;

Instruct the planets in what orbs to run,

Correct old Time, and regulate the sun;

Go, soar with Plato to the empyreal sphere,

To the first good, first perfect, and first fair;

Go, teach Eternal Wisdom how to rule —

Then drop into thyself, and be a fool!” *

Nevertheless, redeemed and regenerate humanity is only a little lower than the angels. Its materialism was worn by the Son of God Incarnate, and as He wore it, it was found a shrine in which perfect goodness could exist, and one from which not a few of its endearing rays could emanate; and, celestialized, that corporeity will find a place in the new heavens and new earth where righteousness dwelleth. And, sublimed and sanctified, man’s * Pope’s “Essay on Man,” Ep. ii.

intellect is fit for the noblest themes in the loftiest society. Not to speak of Moses’ meek sagacity, and David’s lyric raptures, and Solomon’s startling intuitions; there are sons of Adam who, here, on earth, possessed no knowledge beyond simple apprehension or idiot ignorance, and who are now the im mediate pupils of the Bright and Morning Star, and fellow-students with the seraphim. And though it be madness in man to contend with his Maker, it is man’s prerogative that his very /weakness is a pur chase on Omnipotence. Insane when contending with One that is mightier, he is irresistible when in faith and coincidence of holy affection he fights the battles of the Most High, and when by prayer and uplooking affiance, he imports into his own imbecility the might of Jehovah. It is known what man is, and what mere man can do. A Samson can rend the ravening lion, and return to find his bleached ribs a hive of honey. A Goliath can hold at bay the embattled host, and with his beam-like lance beat back a charging company. David’s three champions can hew their way through the host of the Philistines, and from the well of Bethlehem bear triumphant to the camp their costly flask of water. And thus, the potsherds of the earth can strive with the potsherds of the earth, and a strong one destroy the weaker. But it is hardly known yet what man can do when his Maker contends for him and fights through him; although the temptations which Joseph and Daniel have vanquished, and found their demolished strength replaced by sweetness; the terror of God which a solitary Elijah or John Baptist has stricken into an idolatrous or hypocritical generation; the water of life which Paul and Silas and Timothy have carried into the midst of a dying world through pain and peril, through bitter mockings and daily deaths, — although these moral triumphs and religious trophies are earnests and examples of what may be done by man when, through Christ strengthening, man is rendered superhuman.

III. Every joy is futile. It is only fresh food for the life-wasting vanity; more fat kine for the lean ones to devour and convert into tenuity; more must ooured into the working vat in order to acidify and augment the brewage of vexation. “Seeing there be many things that increase vanity, what is man the better?” What the better is man of that reputation which only makes him more envied? What the better is he of that wealth which only makes him more obnoxious to plots and dangers? Wrhat the better of that philosophy which, like a taper on the face of a midnight cliff, only shows how beetling is the brow above him, and how profound the gulf below, whilst he himself is crawling a wingless reptile on the ever-narrowing ledge? What the better is acquirement, when, after all, man’s intellect, man’s conscience, man’s affections must remain a vast and unappeasable vacuity?

Here it is that the other Royal Preacher comes forward, and, instead of echoing, answers the demand of Solomon. Jesus says, “I am the bread of life: he that cometh to me shall never hunger, and he that believeth on me shall never thirst.” Jesus is God manifest, and, therefore, Jesus known is satisfaction to the famished intellect. He is God reconciled, and, therefore, Jesus trusted is comfort to the aching conscience. He is God communicated, and, therefore, Jesus loved is a continual feast to the hungry affections. Incarnate, atoning, interceding, Immanuel is the bread of life, — the only sustenance and satisfaction of the immortal soul. And, 0 my hearers, if any of you are hungry, make trial of this food. If your conscience hungers, feed on some faithful saying till you find it as sweet as it is solid, as refreshing as ’tis true. “God loved the world and gave his Son,” “Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners.” “His blood cleanseth from all sin.” “Him that cometh unto me, I will in no wise cast out.” “Behold the Lamb of God!” Dwell on such sayings till they have sunk into your spirit’s core and spread through your consenting nature in realizations glad and blissful. Does your understanding hunger? Do you pine for some knowledge absolute, conclusive, positive? Then no man knoweth the Father save the Son, and he to whom the Son shall reveal him. Look to Jesus. Study the Word made flesh. In Him dwells all the fulness of the Godhead bodily. In Him, the express image of the Father, behold at once your Teacher and your task; for Jesus is the true Theology. Sit at the Saviour’s feet, and listen to his words; for God is all which

Jesus says. Look into his countenance, for God is all which Jesus is. And do your affections hunger? From the festivals of earth, — from its feasts of friendship even, do you sometimes retire mortified and almost misanthropic? or, like the reveller glancing up at the thread-suspended sword, or gazing at the fulgorous finger as it flames along the wall, have you misgivings in the unhallowed mercies which you enjoy aloof from God, or in the place of God, or beneath the wrath of God? Then, through the Mediator be reconciled to God. In Christ accept Him as your Friend and Father. Enter into his peace, and learn to delight in his perfections; and thus, whilst sinful pleasures lose their relish, lawful joys will acquire a flavour of sacredness, and the zest of a sweet security. Or should the cistern break and the creature fail, the infinite joy is Jehovah, and the soul cannot wither whose roots are replenished from that fountain unfailing.

IV. Life is fleeting. It is a “vain life,” and all its days a rt shadow.” A shadow is the nearest thing to a nullity. It is seldom noticed. Even “a vapour” in the firmament, — a cloud may catch the eye, and in watching its changing hues or figure you may find the amusement of a moment; and if that cloud condense into a shower, a few fields may thank it for its timely refreshment. But a shadow, — the shadow of a vapour! who notes it? who records it? As it sails along the mountain side, with morning bright behind it and summer noon before it, the daisy does not care to wink, nor does the hare-bell droop, nor does the bee suspend its labours; and at eve, the shepherd-boy cross-questioned cannot tell if any cloud there were. And the case is rare where some panting traveller sighs, “Return, 0 shadow! Kind vapour, I wish you would not vanish!”

But Jesus Christ hath brought immortality to light. This fleeting life He has rendered important as “a shadow from the rock eternity.” “I am the Resurrection and the Life: whosoever livcth and believeth in me shall never die.” In his own teaching, and in the teaching of his apostles, the present existence acquires a fearful consequence as the germ, or rather as the outset of one which is never-ending. To their view, this existence is both everything and nothing. As the commencement of eternity, and as giving its complexion to all the changeless future, it is everything; as the competitor of that eternity or the counterpoise to its joys and sorrows it is nothing. “What shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? “” Fear not them who kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul: but rather fear Him who is able to destroy both soul and body in hell.” “Our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory; while we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen: for the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal.” tf How vain, then, are men, who, seeing life so short, endeavour to live long and not to live well!”* How vain are men who, pronouncing the present life a shadow, neglect to secure the everlasting substance!

V. The future is a dark enigma. “Who can tell a man what shall be after him under the sun?”

Says Dr. Stewart of Moulin, “I remember an old, pious, very recluse minister, whom I used to meet once a-year. He scarcely ever looked at a newspaper. When others were talking about the French lie volution, he showed no concern or curiosity about it. He said he knew from the Bible how it would all end, better than the most sagacious politician, — that the Lord reigns, — that the earth will be filled with his glory, — that the Gospel will be preached to all nations, — and that all subordinate events are working out these great ends. This was enough for him, and he gave himself no concern about the news or events of the day, only saying, It shall be well with the righteous.” t And although no man can tell the conqueror how it shall be with the dynasty he has founded; nor the poet how it shall be with the epic he has published; nor the capitalist how it shall be with the fortune he has accumulated; it is easy to tell the philanthropist and the Christian how it shall be, not only with himself, but with the cause he is so eagerly promoting. And without quenching curiosity, it may quiet all

* Jeremy Taylor’s “Works,” vol. iii. p. 418. t Memoirs of Dr. Stewart, p. 336.

anxiety to know that when he himself is gone to be for ever with the Lord, Christ’s kingdom will be spreading in the world. “Then said I, 0 my Lord, what shall be the end of these things? And He said, Go thy way, Daniel; for the words are closed tip and sealed. Go thou thy way till the end be, for thou shalt rest, and stand in thy lot at the end of the days,”

December 8, 1850.