After these things the word of the LORD came unto Abram in a vision, saying, Fear not, Abram: I am thy shield, and thy exceeding great reward. 2And Abram said, Lord GOD, what wilt thou give me, seeing I go childless, and the steward of my house is this Eliezer of Damascus? 3And Abram said, Behold, to me thou hast given no seed: and, lo, one born in my house is mine heir. 4And, behold, the word of the LORD came unto him, saying, This shall not be thine heir; but he that shall come forth out of thine own bowels shall be thine heir. 5And he brought him forth abroad, and said, Look now toward heaven, and tell the stars, if thou be able to number them: and he said unto him, So shall thy seed be. 6And he believed in the LORD; and he counted it to him for righteousness. 7And he said unto him, I am the LORD that brought thee out of Ur of the Chaldees, to give thee this land to inherit it. 8And he said, Lord GOD, whereby shall I know that I shall inherit it? 9And he said unto him, Take me an heifer of three years old, and a she goat of three years old, and a ram of three years old, and a turtledove, and a young pigeon. 10And he took unto him all these, and divided them in the midst, and laid each piece one against another: but the birds divided he not. 11And when the fowls came down upon the carcases, Abram drove them away. 12And when the sun was going down, a deep sleep fell upon Abram; and, lo, an horror of great darkness fell upon him. 13And he said unto Abram, Know of a surety that thy seed shall be a stranger in a land that is not theirs, and shall serve them; and they shall afflict them four hundred years; 14And also that nation, whom they shall serve, will I judge: and afterward shall they come out with great substance. 15And thou shalt go to thy fathers in peace; thou shalt be buried in a good old age. 16But in the fourth generation they shall come hither again: for the iniquity of the Amorites is not yet full. 17And it came to pass, that, when the sun went down, and it was dark, behold a smoking furnace, and a burning lamp that passed between those pieces. 18In the same day the LORD made a covenant with Abram, saying, Unto thy seed have I given this land, from the river of Egypt unto the great river, the river Euphrates: 19The Kenites, and the Kenizzites, and the Kadmonites, 20And the Hittites, and the Perizzites, and the Rephaims, 21And the Amorites, and the Canaanites, and the Girgashites, and the Jebusites.”
—Genesis 15
The portion of Scripture we have selected for consideration is one of the most comprehensive in God’s word. It is replete with instruction; and there are underlying principles which, in this evil day, when errors of the worst kind are finding an open door into the Church of God, we should do well to consider. Reader, ask the Lord to enable you to receive its truths in your heart, and to make them fruitful in your life, so that you may not be “a hearer of the word” only, but “a doer” also.
“After these things the word of the Lord came unto Abram in a vision, saying, Fear not, Abram: I am thy shield and thy exceeding great reward.” The expression “these things” refers us to the previous chapter. Abram was God’s faithful servant and witness to His truth in the midst of the ungodliness and spiritual darkness which reigned around. He had, gained a great victory over Chedorlaomer and was returning from the slaughter, when he was met by the king of Sodom. This king proposed to Abram to share the spoil: “Give me the persons, and take the goods to thyself.” Abram’s noble reply ensured for him a further manifestation of God’s presence and the assurance of the fullness of blessing from Him as his “shield, and thy exceeding great reward.” God’s servants are called upon to be faithful to Him, to make no compromise with the world, but to live separate; “Touch not the unclean thing; and I will receive you, And will be a Father unto you, and ye shall be my sons and daughters, saith the Lord Almighty.”
We see how remarkably this was fulfilled in Abram’s case. He would make no compromise with the wicked king of Sodom. He would not touch anything of his. “And Abram said to the king of Sodom, I have lift up mine hand unto the Lord, the most high God, the possessor of heaven and earth, That I will not take from a thread even to a shoelatchet, and that I will not take anything that is thine, lest thou shouldest say, I have made Abram rich:”
Mark, dear reader, the simple meaning of these beautiful words. Abram would not put himself under the influence of the world by being under any obligation to it. Had he accepted the gifts of the king of Sodom he would have been under an obligation and would, consequently, have been less independent, less free to act for God. He would have felt fettered. To one not decidedly on the Lord’s side, it might have appeared very harmless to take these gifts. What harm! You need make no further advances to the king of Sodom.
There is no sacrifice of principle, Surely in such a little thing as this. So Saul thought when he brought Agag but spared the oxen. So Gehazi thought when he turned back again to Naaman. How differently from Abram did another child of God act in the Old Testament! “Now Jehoshaphat had riches and honour in abundance, and joined affinity with Ahab. And after certain years he went down to Ahab to Samaria. And Ahab killed sheep and oxen for him in abundance, and for the people that he had with him.” Ahab knew how to gain his ends. When once he had succeeded in getting Jehoshaphat to accept the “sheep and oxen in abundance,” that end was gained. How could Jehoshaphat act independently? He had laid himself, by this act, under an obligation to Ahab. How could he withstand the next artful request—“Wilt thou go with me to Ramothgilead?” How could he make any other reply than, “I am as thou art, and my people as thy people; and we will be with thee in the war.” The world had conquered him. He was no longer God’s independent servant, but under the trammels of Ahab. Oh! if Jehoshaphat had only made the noble reply of Abram, “I will not take any thing that is thine,” what sorrow, what sin, what disgrace he would have saved himself that day!
Abram would be independent of the world. He would act and live above it. He knew he was God’s servant, and he would act as one. He seems to say, the Lord, the possessor of heaven and earth, is my God. I have pledged myself to Him. He is my Lord and Master, and Him only will I serve and obey. What noble conduct! This is the course every child of God should take in reference to the world. He should live above it. He should be God’s uncompromising servant. He should stand out boldly, clearly, unmistakably on the Lord’s side. This is the only noble course. This is the only course that will bring peace to our souls and ensure the light of God’s countenance on our path. Not trying how to make the most of both worlds. Not making trifling advances towards it. No wonder such Christians have clouds and shadows round their hearts. No wonder they enjoy little communion with God. No wonder if they have little assurance of the pardon of their sins or their acceptance in Christ. No misery like that of being half Christian. God sends His own judgment on that soul, in the inward dissatisfaction, the secret uneasiness of conscience, the want of peace and joy.
“The salt that has lost its savor” is the most insipid of all. It is fit only for the dunghill. You look at such people, but you see no clear, distinct marks of heaven upon them. You are unable to tell whether they are converted or not. They look so like the world that you cannot put them “among the children,” and yet there are features about them that make you hope better things. Oh sad state to be in! Such people are walking at a distance from God—if indeed they are His at all. The world is full of them. We meet them on every side of us. No decision for Christ. No outspoken word for Him in the face of a smiling world. For fear of being thought singular or extreme they are full of little concessions and compromises. Alas! for them. They are the sufferers. They are the most to be pitied. Half hearted Christians! who could rush forward in the heat of the world’s battlefield and in the face of a thousand bullets plant the flag of victory and yet quail before the sneer, the curled lip, the reserve, the distance of a poor worldling in the drawing room or at the fireside or occupying some lofty position in respect of them. Ah, say not, this is an isolated case! The world is full of such people. Christians are themselves more guilty of the crime of unfaithfulness to Christ than of all other crimes they have ever committed. Who stands out now like Abram in the passage before us? Few are they indeed among the many. The great question now is not, how like Christ can I become, without asceticism or eccentricity? but, how much of the world can I grasp without losing heaven? Oh fearful apostasy of the Church! “come, Lord Jesus.” and end this shame, and sorrow, and sin!
And mark, dear reader, the Lord’s promise to faithful conduct. “Touch not the unclean thing” is the command. And what is the reward? “and I will receive you, And will be a Father unto you, and ye shall be my sons and daughters.” Mark how it was fulfilled to Abram. He would not touch the unclean thing and now the Lord appears to him. “After these things the word of the Lord came unto Abram in a vision, saying, Fear not, Abram: I am thy shield and thy exceeding great reward.” Yes, even now God appears to the soul of His child-after every step of faithfulness. God appears to him in the silent but secret approval of conscience; in the secret whisper, “Well done, thou good and faithful servant” in the flood of love and light which fills his soul, in the increased enjoyment of communion with God. These are infinitely more, even now, than the pressure of that cross, whatever it may be, through which the blessing has been purchased and what shall be the reward in the world to come! Oh, for a decision for Christ, for faithfulness to God, at all times, under all circumstances! Child of God, throw not away the blessings which such faithfulness will bring to thy soul! Live for the Lord, and see, even on earth, how richly He will reward it!
But what does God say to Abram? “Fear not.” Why such a word? He seemed to be one of the most fearless of men. Had he not shown it by his conduct in going forth in the face of mighty foes to the rescue of Lot? Yes. But it is after the conflict the danger appears. It is not in the thick of the battle that we can see calmly what we have had to encounter, the forces we have had to contend with. It is in the calm retirement and reflection when the battle is over. When we come to look back and see our weakness and the greatness of the foe, then we begin to tremble. Then we need to look again to our strong hold. We need the armor, not only to “withstand,” but “to stand” when the conflict is over. This armor was on when Abram met the king of Sodom; it was off when he met God. “I am thy shield, and thy exceeding great reward,” What greater reward could He give him than Himself. He seems to say, the world and all its treasures are too poor for thee, my child. There is nothing below that is sufficient reward for thy faithfulness. I give thee something greater than them all. I give thee Myself. “Fear not, Abram: I am thy shield, and thy exceeding great reward.” This is the reward God sets before faith. This is the reward God has for those who live for Him. All else is too little for them. Whatever other reward He might give, it would be unworthy of Him. Therefore He gives us Himself.
What more could Abram have? What more could God give him? Having Him, he had all things: and therefore the first and the greatest blessing God gave to Israel of old is the blessing, the first and the greatest, which God gives to His children now, “I am the Lord thy God.” It was the first of Israel’s laws. It is the first of the Christian’s, too. Could God give anything higher to the Christian than he gave to Israel—Himself? Impossible! There may be greater light, but salvation was the same then as now.
But was “God” enough for Abram? “And Abram said, Lord God, what wilt thou give me, seeing I go childless?” Poor heart of man! How like ourselves to the present hour! There was one little idol on which the heart had set itself; a child, and because he had not this all God’s gifts were as nothing. So long as this remained ungratified, even God Himself was as nothing. How many a child of God is mirrored in this narrative of Abram! God has given Himself to us, in all the riches of His grace, in all the length and breadth, the heights and depths of His love, in all the promises and sure rewards of His word and yet because some thorn is not removed from the heart, some longing desire of the soul is not gratified, some object of life is not attained or some plan on which we had set our hearts has been crossed, all is as nothing. Not even God Himself is sufficient. The idol is there. There is a substance, or, perhaps, only a shadow, between the soul and God and that dims His brightness. It must be moved. That idol must be thrown down. That shadow must be dispersed.
“The dearest idol I have known,
Whate’er that idol be,
Help me to tear it from Thy throne,
And worship only Thee,”
But how does God remove it? By granting the request? Never. He is God and the creature must know it and bow. Man must come to terms with God, not God with man. His way is always the best and therefore He never bends. God will give the blessing, but not in Abram’s time or manner. He will give it in His own. In the meantime He does not leave us without hope. He gives us His word of promise-His “sure word of prophecy.” With that Abram must be satisfied. On that he must lean. So with all God’s children. “And, behold, the word of the Lord came unto him, saying, This shall not be thine heir; but he that shall come forth out of thine own bowels shall be thine heir. And He brought him forth abroad, and said, Look now toward heaven, and tell the stars, if thou be able to number them: and he said unto him, So shall thy seed be.”
Let us mark another important truth. “And he said unto him, I am the Lord that brought thee out of Ur of the Chaldees, to give thee this land to inherit it.” God gives Abram the promise to rest upon, and in these words appeals to him for trust in that promise by reminding him of what He had done for him in times past. It is as if He would say, did I not choose thee and lead thee out of thine own country, Ur of the Chaldees? By My grace to thee in time past, in leading thee out and making thee Mine, trust Me now. The Lord had brought him out of Ur, for the very purpose that his seed should inherit the land. Abram needed to be under no apprehension, for God would be faithful. So now with us. God has chosen us in Christ, and “blessed us with all spiritual blessings” in Him. Not one good thing of, all the Lord our God has promised, shall fail.
But as with Abram, so with us. It is not God what fails, it is our faith. We cannot wait for God. We want his promises fulfilled in our time, instead of His, in our way, instead of His, according to our measure, instead of according to His. Our faith is continually failing. We exclaim, in fretfulness of heart, “Lord God, what wilt thou give me?” Perhaps we are tried, like Abram here, in another way. We see at our very side some Eliezer, some one who has not taken up the cross as we have or done what we have, in the full enjoyment of God’s choicest gifts, while we are kept waiting day by day without any token of coming blessing. Oh how trying to flesh and blood is this waiting!
Well, the Lord will not answer the fretfulness of our hearts. He will not let us have things as we like. He again puts before us just what He put before Abram here, “the sure word of prophecy,” and says, lean on that. That is enough for the present, wait on Me. Not only so, but He meets us further, even as He met Abram. Remember how I brought you out of Ur of the Chaldees, out of the darkness and bondage of sin and death. See what great things I have done for you in time past. Can you not trust Me for all that is to come? In this way God bids us look back at His love and faithfulness, that we may trust Him for the future. In the same way David takes encouragement: “O my God, my soul is cast down within me: therefore will I remember thee from the land of Jordan, and of the Hermonites, from the hill Mizar.” These were places where God had shown His power on David’s behalf and now he is in trouble he looks back, remembers God’s goodness, and takes courage for the future; “I shall yet praise him, who is the health of my countenance, and my God.” Thus God seems to speak to Abram. But alas, Abram’s faith is weak! Who would have thought that the one who only a short time before had stood out so boldly for the Lord would now have shown such marvelous want of faith? Again he replies, “Lord God, whereby shall I know that I shall inherit it?” What strange questionings of God’s faithfulness! What clouds had gathered round this good man’s faith! “Lord God, what wilt thou give me…Lord God, whereby shall I know that I shall inherit it?” He hardly seems the same man who had just before said to the King of Sodom, “I will not take from a thread even to a shoelatchet … I will not take anything that is thine…”
Ah, dear Christian reader, said we not well that the armor is needed after the conflict? “Wherefore take unto you the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day.” What follows? “and having done all, to stand.” The foe comes to us after the conflict, because then he knows we so often have the armor off. See Elijah. He who could boldly stand before Ahab and exclaim, “There shall not be dew nor rain these years, but according to my word.”3 is seen a few hours after fleeing into the wilderness to hide himself under a juniper tree, trembling like a leaf, under the boastful threat of guilty Jezebel! See David; through great faith in God he smote the giant with a sling and with a stone. “Come to me” were the fearful words of the giant of Gath, “and I will give thy flesh to the fowls of the air.” Yet David with his armor of faith prevailed. Not too long afterwards he is seen fleeing into the wilderness and exclaiming, in miserable distrust of God, “I shall now perish one day by the hand of Saul.” Oh, sad unbelief of the heart! Blessed be God, though our faith is constantly fluctuating, always bringing dishonor and discredit upon Him, He never changes! He is our heart’s only resting place. Not our faith, not our resolutions, not our confidence in Him, our knowledge of Him. No—Only Himself.
Abram had asked, “Lord God, whereby shall I know that I shall inherit it?” God now proceeds to point out how he may be sure that he shall. “And he said unto him, Take me an heifer of three year old, and a she goat of three years old, and a ram of three years old, and a turtle dove, and a young pigeon.” Mark this well, reader. Abram had asked, “Whereby shall I know?” and God points him to the sacrifice-to the divided heifer, the she goat and the ram. He points him to these as a pledge of the fulfillment of every promise, the full realization of every blessing. Do we, like Abram, want to be assured that every promise of God will be fulfilled, that every blessing in His storehouse shall be ours? Where does God still direct us to look? To the cross-the divided, suffering, bleeding, dying Lamb on Calvary. There is God’s answer to our question. “He that spared not his own Son,” He seems to say to us, “but delivered him up for us all, how shall he not with him also freely give us all things?” Yes, heaven still points to the cross of Jesus for an answer to every question of the heart. There He bids us look and rest. There we turn in our darkest moments. There faith revives, and goes onward in its heavenward path with new energy. God be praised for that wondrous cross! On it hangs all our hopes. On it are suspended the issues of every step of our way. We behold the dying Lamb, and raise our songs of praise. We go forth from His side rejoicing. We go forth to victory.
And this encouragement is for the weakest, the poorest, the most needy. “The turtle-dove and the young pigeon” are there-God’s provision for the poor. They are specially provided for. They are special objects in God’s heart. They are bidden to look at the cross of Christ and take courage. That bleeding Lamb is their pledge that every blessing shall be theirs, every promise of God’s their everlasting portion.
“And when the sun was going down, a deep sleep fell upon Abram; and, lo, an horror of great darkness fell upon him.” All the external channels of communication with the outer and visible world were now closed in order that Abram might hold communion with God. It is only when outward things are shut out that the spiritual vision is clear. Then we see God. Then He opens His mind to us. Then He reveals to us the deep purposes of His heart. This took place, it is said, “when the sun was going down.” There must be darkness round the earth before the lights of heaven can be seen. When darkness covered the earth, the light of redeeming love shone in its brightest rays on Calvary. So is it always. God’s lights shine in the world’s darkness. God opens wide the spiritual faculties of the soul when all the channels of communication with the outer world are closed. There is darkness over the earth, the faculties of Abram’s soul are closed to outward things but what wondrous realities are being made visible to him! Oh the things unseen revealed in God’s presence to the soul that leaves the world and self and sin behind are always wonderful! They are the true realities of life. There is nothing so real as they are. The mightiest of the mighty of this world’s events are but shadows in comparison. The only real life is the life “hid with Christ in God.” The only real existence is that spent in His presence. All else is shadow, dream, the spray dashed from the ocean’s rock, the bubble glittering for a moment on the world’s treacherous sea!
“And he said unto Abram, Know of a surety that thy seed shall be a stranger in a land that is not theirs, and shall serve them; and they shall afflict them four hundred years.” Here was the rebuke to Abram’s want of faith, as truly as was the dumbness of Zacharias for his unbelief. Abram had said, “Lord God, what wilt thou give me?” God reveals to him much that saddens his heart. His hopes are thus subdued and chastened and he is taught that the true resting place of his heart is not in outward things but in God Himself, not in the earnestly desired child-but in God alone. Alas, the fondest desires of the heart, if allowed to stand between us and God, when realized, end in sadness and sorrow. God is teaching us this continually. Let our most fondly cherished wishes be fully gratified, their sequel is a mingled experience of sadness and grief, as Surely as the issue of the seed of Abram was a sequel of tears and afflictions, sorrows and sins. Surely we may learn again God’s often taught, but never fully learned, lesson, “I am thy shield, and thy exceeding great reward.” Not the child, but God. Not the creature, but God. Not in anything below, but in Him above.
Reader, have you learned this lesson? Is there some desire between your soul and God, some cherished wish, some darling treasure—it matters not what—on which your heart is set, and leading you, as long as it remains ungratified, to exclaim, “Lord God, what wilt thou give me.?” Oh learn the lesson! When you get it, it will disappoint. It will not be equal to expectation. Earthly hopes are never realized. The tendency of the human mind, by dwelling on some earthly expectation, is to exaggerate its value, so that when realized it falls far below expectation. This disappointment is, must be, from the very nature of the human mind, the sequel of every cherished earthly desire. “My soul, wait thou only upon God; for my expectation is from him.” Expectation, however long cherished, however long dwelt upon, never falls below the mark when centered in Him. The fulfillment is always beyond the expectation, however great it may be, because it is in God.
Mother, is the shadow between thy soul and God a child? wife, is it a husband? merchant, is it thy business? nobleman, is it thy rank or wealth? Whatever it is, the end will be sorrow. Whatever comes between the soul and God will prove to be a thorn piercing the soul.
Perhaps you say you value them, but you hope you have not made an idol of them. Who is to judge? Did man ever confess, or even know, that what his heart was set upon had become an idol? Never. Can you say, well, whatever is between my soul and Him, let Him remove it. I am ready to let everything go for Him. This will be the test. Try to realize this. Suppose at this moment God were to draw near and take away that child, that husband, that business, that rank and wealth, do you hold each one of them so in subservience to Him that you could say take them, Lord: leave me only Thyself and I shall be happy? Can we say, and say truly this?
Ah, let us beware of these idols! Let us keep everything in subjection to the Saviour. Let us ask the Lord earnestly to let nothing, however dear, take His place on the throne. We shall be saved from tearful eyes, broken spirits, and bleeding hearts. We shall value them all according to their true estimate, simply because Christ is valued above all.
But when do these treasures become idols? Passing along the road, on a starlight night, I have looked up at the bright moon shining in all its brilliancy. I saw no cloud on its bright surface. But suddenly I became conscious of a less luster, a dimmed brightness on the path. Looking up I saw a faint shadow, scarcely a cloud, almost a film on its beauteous surface. I saw it not before. I never should have seen it at all till it came between me and the light, it was so faint and slight. So is it with many a thing here. It looks all right. We can detect nothing wrong. Ah! let it pass between the soul and the light of God’s presence. Then only will its true character be seen. Does it cast no shadow over the heart? Does it leave the brightness of the Lord’s countenance shining on the soul? Is Jesus seen through it clearly, sweetly? Is the soul enjoying unclouded fellowship with Him under it? Is there no check to the current of his peace and joy?
If there be, reader, in however slight a degree, in the same degree has that thing become an idol. If peace, and joy, and holy fellowship with Jesus are not thine, depend upon it there is some idol between thy soul and God. It may be the world or the flesh, or even the gifts and blessings of God; it matters not what, it is an idol. Oh search and see! Am I truly living under the unsullied light of God’s countenance? Is Jesus only on the throne in my heart? Is my heart whole for Him, or is it divided? Search, reader, search. True joy consists only in one thing-being whole hearted for Christ.
“And thou shalt go to thy fathers in peace; thou shalt be buried in a good old age.” Abram had given up all for God. He had had to separate from his country, kindred and his father’s house. Every earthly association was severed and he had to walk with God a stranger and a pilgrim through an enemy’s country. Now God promises him a renewal of the family tie in that bright and blessed world towards which be was journeying, “Thou shalt go to thy fathers in peace.” This is the glorious reward God sets before all who have to pass through that fiery path of separation. They shall have an eternal restoration of every severed tie. The fond affections of the family hearth shall be renewed where no cloud can ever enter to mar their beauty, to overshadow their luster or cause distance or reservation between heart and heart. Human affection shall be deepened and intensified, yet be holy and happy. The eyes and hearts of all shall gaze upon Him who sits upon the throne and catch His glory which shall be reflected from heart to heart and from face to face. The tenderness and affections of earthly homes shall be gathered up again and shall run throughout eternity in one even course under the eye of Him from whose presence they now derive their highest joy, though amid tears, severances and sad farewells. Yes, “Eye hath not seen” what that family scene shall be; “nor ear heard” the holy, heavenly harmonies that shall be heard from that great gathering round the throne. This is “prepared” for all them that love Him. This is our glorious prospect, the promise of our God, on which hangs all our hopes, all our earnest longings.
“And thou shalt go to thy fathers in peace.” Peace is the heritage of all God’s people. When they came to the cross, it was then they tasted its stream. The Saviour’s peace was given to them day by day as they journeyed through the desert below. It was peace when they came to Jesus, peace as they journeyed on day by day, peace when they stood on the border of the dark river through which they had to pass, peace as the ransomed spirit left its prison house of clay to join the family on high—all was peace.
Blessed assurance for each child of God: “And thou shalt go to thy fathers in peace.” One by one are passing from us, of those we loved below. The smiles that once greeted us on earth of the trusted and the true are lessening as we pass on. We can count them very easily. The golden links of heaven are stronger and more in number today than they were a few short years ago. What a host is gathering round the throne! What a greeting shall be, ere a few more suns rise and set! What warm embraces are at hand! How they make our hearts beat for joy at the very thought of them! Each hour is filling the ranks of the unfilled homes on high. And the morning is very near; oh, how near! Jesus is coming, and with Him every broken link shall be bound again, every sad farewell shall be left behind forever. As each one passes on before us, leaving us to tread a still more lonely path, we count up our numbers and see how few are the links that bind us to this world. We are waiting to join them. We long for that eternal glory, that endless greeting. We are waiting in the hall below till the summons shall come from above.
Yet more than all, we long His glory to behold,
Whose smile fills all that radiant throng
With ecstasy untold.
Our waiting cry is, Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly; and the glad echo that greets us from heaven and cheers our broken spirits on earth, is, “Surely I come quickly.”
We are like to servants
In their Master’s hall,
Busied with our daily work,
Waiting for His call.
On the roof above us
Rows of bells are hung;
One by one they summon each,
With their clamorous tongue.
Then, the servant bidden
Saith ‘That rings for me,’
Leaveth off his present toil,
Whatever it may be;
Smootheth his apparel,
Looks a farewell round,
Passeth from his fellows
While the bell doth sound;
Mounteth up the staircase,
To his Lord doth go;
Tarrieth in the upper rooms,
Comes no more below.
Oh to be up yonder
Pressing near to God!
Thus we pine and murmur,
Counting service vain;
But the loving Master
Reckons up our pain.
He, the unforgetting,
Marks our every sigh;
When our heart is heaviest,
Comfort then is nigh.
When our hope is faintest,
And despair most strong,
And the night gloom deepens
Round the waiting throng,
Then the welcome summons
Suddenly shall ring,
And our glad steps hasten
To our Lord and King.
“Thou shalt be buried in a good old age.” What a delightful sight is the head hoary in God’s service! What a heart-cheering, holy sight to see, that while the hair is growing whiter, the heart is deepening in love to the Saviour, the life more unreservedly laid upon the altar as a living sacrifice to Him! Oh what a blessed, and glorious sight is this!
But how terrible the converse of this! What more melancholy, what more heart rending sight can there be than to see beneath the hoary head an unrenewed heart! Can there be on earth anything more saddening than to behold the hoary hairs consecrated to mammon, to the service of the world? Can there be a more heart rending sight than an unconverted, a worldly old age? Oh, if angels can weep, it is here! They bend over the battlements of glory in wonder and pity. An unconverted old age! Then conversion to God is almost hopeless. It is a rare occurrence. The die has been cast. The seal has been fixed upon the brow. Only a stupendous miracle can break the hardened heart-hardened, perhaps, by long years of familiarity with the gospel-and snatch the brand from the burning. Oh fearful sight! Reader, art thou one of these aged unconverted ones? Oh, may God speak to thee now, through these lines! Only He can. May He break that hard heart! May He rouse thy slumbering, yea, seared conscience—seared, perhaps, as with a hot iron! May He melt thy frozen soul, and bring thee to the foot of His cross as a poor, humbled sinner! Then, with all the dark picture of the past, shall there be hope in thy latter end. May the Judge standing at that awful bar on high have mercy upon thy soul! Neither heaven nor earth can draw a darker picture than thine, unconverted aged one!
“But in the fourth generation they shall come hither again: for the iniquity of the Amorites is not yet full.” God’s people could not enter the promised inheritance till “the iniquity of the Amorites” was full. They must fill up their measure of rejected mercy, and despised grace, and indulged sin. Then should the Lord’s people return.
It is the same now. “The Lord is not slack concerning his promise, as some men count slackness; but is longsuffering to us-ward, not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance”1 We cannot yet enter our inheritance. “the iniquity of the Amorites is not yet full.” Not yet, but soon will be. The cup is in their hand. It is fast filling up. Mercy despised, grace rejected, warnings unheeded, entreaties mocked, the holy blood habitually trampled under foot and counted an unholy thing! These are the droppings, hour after hour, into that cup. It is now nearly full. Who shall conceive the vengeance! Who shall picture the blood stained apparel of Him who cometh from Edom, with dyed garments from Bozrah! Who shall describe that winepress of wrath preparing by unholy hands for their own unholy souls and bodies! Then “the ransomed of the LORD shall return, and come to Zion with songs and everlasting joy upon their heads: they shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away.” We shall then enter into our everlasting inheritance and go no more out.
Let us now consider the most important and instructive portion of this chapter—the “furnace,” the “burning lamp,” and the “pieces.”
“And it came to pass, that, when the sun went down, and it was dark, behold a smoking furnace, and a burning lamp that passed between those pieces.” The narrative presents us with a striking type of the death of Christ. This was the covenant God made with Abram, through which all the promises of God were made good and every blessing came down to him and his descendants. Looking at it as a representation of the great sacrifice of the Lamb of God and the part His people have in that sacrifice, it is very striking. “when the sun went down, and it was dark” then was the light of heaven seen shining in meridian rays from Calvary. Then the sacrifice; symbolized here by “the pieces,” was smitten, and pierced, and rent asunder. “there was darkness over all the land” the historian tells us, and a cry from that cross rent the blackened vault of heaven, “My God my God, why hast thou forsaken me?”
But what was seen between those “pieces?”, “a smoking furnace, and a burning lamp” The former represents the sufferings, the persecutions, the trials and sorrows of the Lord’s people. The latter represents the light of God’s presence—God’s promises, and peace, and joys. Between the “pieces” both were seen. In the cross of Christ the Lord’s people find both. When they come to Him—to know, to follow, to lean upon Him—it is in much tribulation. The cross is their portion hour by hour. It is indeed a furnace, a “smoking furnace,” through which they are called to pass. But blessed be His holy name there is, along with that smoking furnace, the light, the comfort, the joy of the Lord’s presence. In Christ both are found. Not till man comes between those “pieces,” not till the sinner is led to hide in a crucified Saviour, does he know what it is to take up the bitter cross. Not till then does he know what it is to taste true joy. It is indeed darkness all around him then. Only in Christ has he light. “Between the pieces”-there is his place all through this dispensation. “Hid with Christ in God”—there he finds his light as well as his cross, his “smoking furnace and burning lamp.”
But one sweet word here reminds him of a glorious time drawing near. If there is the “smoking furnace,” it will not be always there. It “passed between the pieces.” “Our light affliction which is but for a moment.” The day is at hand when there shall be no longer the “smoking furnace.” In the meantime, though there is the anguish, the cry, the sin, yet God’s people are between the pieces—safe in Christ, and “all things” working “together for good,” because he is in Him.
“In the same day the Lord made a covenant with Abram” We have in these words a most important truth brought before us. The same day on which God showed Abram the “pieces,” He showed him also his part in them. There were the pieces, and also the covenant made with Abram, founded on the “pieces.” Thus God would have all His people not only to look to the crucified Saviour, but also to see their own individual interest in that Saviour; not only to know that He died to put away sin, but also that by that death He put away our sin. The one should never be preached without the other. What avails religion if we cannot be sure of an individual interest in it? Far better be without it! What peace can that soul have, which, while looking to the cross, cannot see its own part in that great work of redemption. God would have us not only see the “pieces,” but that in those pieces a “covenant” is made with the soul. He would have us to say with humility, yet with confidence, not only Jesus died for sinners, but Jesus died for me; not only He put away sin, but He put away my sin. “I am crucified with Christ: nevertheless I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me: and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me.”, ” “My Lord and my God.” said Thomas; “My beloved is mine, and I am his”
Reader, rest satisfied with nothing short of this personal assurance of salvation. God shows you here that He would have you see your own interest in His “finished” work. He died for you. He has put away your sins. Oh, poor, anxious sinner, believe it and be at peace. Accept that work—salvation finished, and finished for thee. Nothing to be done, but everything already done by Jesus. If you could do anything to get an interest in that work, it would not, it could not, be a “finished” work. As such it would be unworthy of God. It would be an incomplete thing and would give no peace. But “it is finished.” Oh! believe it. Believe it now. Take this full and freely offered salvation, and go in peace.
“In the same day the Lord made a covenant with Abram, saying, Unto thy seed have I given this land, from the river of Egypt unto the great river, the river Euphrates.” We notice here the expression “have I given” The previous appearances of God to Abram brought with them future promises of blessing to him and his seed. Here, however, it is not a future promise, but a present possession. It is not, as before, “I will give,” but “I have given.”
This is instructive. God had just shown Abram the “pieces,” and his own covenanted interest in them. In the sacrifice everything is present possession. In Christ all things are ours. “who hath blessed us with all spiritual blessings in heavenly places in Christ:” “Whether Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas, or the world, or life, or death, or things present, or things to come; all are yours;” That sacrifice made all the land though, then filled with enemies, forever the possession of Abram and his seed.
The sacrifice of Christ makes the world and all things the believer’s, though as yet it is the enemy’s country. Having Christ, we have all things. Blessed and glorious truth! May we know our wealth! May we understand our high and holy position! May we, as “kings and priests,” sons of God, and heirs of eternal life, never stoop from our lofty position to find a resting place in anything lower. May we be whole hearted for Him, in this day of being lukewarm, of indecision, and of declension. Many are going back and walking no more with Jesus. The love of many is waxing cold. Forms and ceremonies are taking the place of real life from God in the soul. On all sides the declension is rapid and startling. Let us see to it, that the rapidity of the current does not carry us along with it. If we breast it in our own strength, we are hopelessly lost. Our only strength, our only security is in Christ; our only hiding place the Rock of ages. As the storm rages more wildly outside and the horizon grows darker and darker as the droppings of the last thunder cloud begin to fall faster and faster may we shelter ourselves more closely than ever in the clefts of the smitten Rock and wait with patience the hour when the storm shall cease and the wild waves cease to roar and the blackened sky give place to a bright morning, a “morning without clouds,” when “the Sun of righteousness shall arise with healing in His wings,” and chase every shadow, and every cloud, and every sorrow from our blighted world, and all shall be bright and glorious again as Eden was, reflecting in ten thousand forms of light, and life, and beauty, the glory of Him who is fairer than the children of men, and who shall lead His people “unto living fountains of waters: and wipe away all tears from their eyes.”3 Hasten, Lord, that glorious hour! Come quickly, and tarry not!
I journey forth rejoicing,
From this dark vale of tears,
To heavenly joy and freedom
From earthly bonds and fears:
Where Christ, our Lord, shall gather
All His redeemed again,
His kingdom to inherit:
Good-night till then!
Go to thy quiet resting,
Poor tenement of clay!
From all thy pain and weakness,
I gladly haste away;
But still in faith confiding,
To find Thee yet again,
All glorious and immortal:
Good-night till then!
Why thus so sadly weeping,
Beloved ones of my heart!
The Lord is good and gracious,
Though now He bids us part.
Oft have we met in gladness,
And we shall meet again,
All sorrow left behind us:
Good-night till then!
I go to see His glory,
Whom we have loved below!
I go, the blessed angels,
The holy saints to know.
Our lovely ones departed
I go to find again,
And wait for you to join us:
Good-night till then!
I hear the Saviour calling,
The joyful hour has come!
The angel-guards are ready
To guide me to our home,
Where Christ, the Lord, shall gather
All His redeemed again,
His kingdom to inherit:
Good-night till then!
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