The Purpose of the Spirit's Blessing

And immediately the Spirit driveth Him into the wilderness,” — MARK i, 12,

“Immediately,” immediately after what? After the opened heavens and the dove-like peace and the voice of a Father’s blessing, ‘Thou art my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.” It is no abnormal experience. Thou too hast passed through it, O my soul. Are not the times of thy deepest depression just the moments that follow thy loftiest flight? Yesterday thou wert soaring far in the firmament and singing in the radiance of the morn; to-day thy wings are folded and thy song is silent. At noon thou wert basking in the sunshine of a Father’s smile; at eve Thou art saying in the wilderness “My way is hid from the Lord.” Nay, but, my soul, the very suddenness of the change is a proof that it is not revolutionary. Hast thou weighed the comfort of that word “immediately”? Why does it come so soon G after the blessing? Just to show that it is the sequel of the blessing. What was that in Jesus with which the Father was well pleased? It was the vision of what was to come, the vision of where the Spirit would drive Him. The Father saw that the dove-like peace which had fallen on the Son of Man would make Him fit for the wilderness; He blessed Him for what He would be able to bear. The shining on the banks of Jordan was the hour of His adoption, but the wilderness was the hour of His inheritance. Is it not ever so? God shines on thee to make thee fit for life’s desert-places — for its Gethsemanes, for its Calvaries. He lifts thee up that He may give thee strength to go further down; He illuminates thee that He may send thee into the night, that He may make thee a help to the helpless. Not at all times art thou worthy of the wilderness; thou art only worthy of the wilderness after the splendours of Jordan. Nothing but the Son’s vision can fit thee for the Spirit’s burden; only the glory of the baptism can support the hunger of the desert.