Chapter Seven: Night Songs

The apostle tells us that “God is light, and in him is no darkness at all.” It follows, therefore, that if we live near to him; if we daily walk with the assured conviction that we are in his immediate presence, and with a faith that looks to him and sees him, we shall always “walk in the light, as he is in the light;” or, as they hymn expresses it, we shall “walk in the light of God.” I think it would be well if we could impress upon our minds and hearts some of the lessons of Holy Scripture which may tend to confirm us in the belief of this truth. I suppose it was from deep person experience, as well as from direct inspiration, that David said: “The Lord is my light and my salvation.” And how cheeringly does Isaiah utter the rich promise that “thy sun shall no more go down; neither shall thy moon withdraw itself; for the Lord shall be thine everlasting light, and the days of thy mourning shall be ended” (Isaiah 60:20). It will be noted, too, that all that I have hitherto said upon the importance of spiritual life, and of the maintenance of vital connection with its Source, is more than suggested by what the apostle teaching concerning Christ: “In him was life, and the life was the light of men” (John 1:4). This doctrine of the identification of our light with Christ’s life is mentioned here merely for the reader’s serious meditation, as the elaboration of a subject so profound would lead us away from our immediate purpose. There is a sense in which his coming into the world enlightens every man (John 1:9), but Christians are especially illuminated. They are “all the children of light” (1 Thessalonians 5:5). They “are called out of darkness into his marvelous light” (1 Peter 2:9). And this expresses precisely the point with which I introduced this subject. We are near to God. His glorious face shines upon us. He has “lifted up the light of his countenance upon us,” and has put gladness into our hearts.

But not only is it our privilege to “see” him thus by faith; we may also hear his voice. It comes us in no thunder tones. It is neither loud nor startling. It is so “still” and “small” that we must needs listen for it if we would catch its whispered lessons, and be enlightened by its luminous directions. If we could realize that in all the instructions, encouragements, admonitions, comforts, promises which are applicable to us in the Scriptures, God is really present and speaking them to us now, the words would come to us with a vividness and a living power which, in our casual and careless reading, we too often miss. It is one thing to perceive that they were once uttered, and quite another to feel that they are, to all intents and purposes, being uttered now. And it is doubtless for this reason, because God is present with it and in it, that his word is “living and powerful.” To my mind there is something inexpressibly sweet in the thought, or, rather, in the assured conviction that our heavenly Father has not simply given us the record of what he said to distant people ages ago, but that he is really speaking every day to us, addressing words of comfort to our hearts, and of light to our understanding. When, therefore, the troubles of life assail us, when we are perplexed and cast down, when we are tempted and tried, and fell almost like giving over, it will be a blessing to us if we can get away from the noise and turmoil of the world, and hear a still small voice speaking not simply to the ancient Hebrews through Isaiah, but to our own troubled hearts, saying: “Fear not, for I have redeemed thee: I have called thee by they name; thou art mine. When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee: when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned; neither shall the flame kindle upon thee” (Isaiah 43:1-3).

But when I call attention thus to these exceeding great distinctions and honors — to the light of God shining into our hearts and upon our pathway; to his assured and certain presence with us, never leaving nor forsaking us; to his gracious and almighty protection and support, let it be understood that I am speaking of the fact, rather than the experience, of what is really true, however we may fail to realize it. For very few, perhaps none, of even the best of Christians can be said to pass their days in unclouded sunshine and in unqualified happiness. God may be to us in every deed all that I have said—near and gracious, and pouring out his heart of love upon us—and still, owing to our fleshly nature, and to the perverting and blinding influences connected with our secular life, we may fail to see and realize all this, and may even be brought to feel that he is far away from us. We have seasons of depression. We come into a cold, prayerless, unjoyous spirit. The ways of God in his dealings with us are mysterious and inexplicable, and we sometimes think that his hand is very heavy for a loving Father’s hand! And then doubts supervene. Is he a loving Father? And if he is, are we indeed his children? Surely something is wrong. Either we do not sustain to him the relation that we had fondly supposed, or else his is not the character that we had believed and in which we had trusted. Oh, it is a dreadful thing to get down into this “slough of despond!” — to feel that God has forsaken us; that it is in vain to serve him; that he hears, he heeds, he pities us no more. The wicked flourish like a green by tree; the men of the world seem to bask in his smiles; their lives are crowned with blessing; they have more than heart could wish; and with it all they appear to be gay and bright and joyous, while we are left to struggle with adversity, and to taste the bitter cup of disappointment, affliction and sorrow. He even takes from us our best beloved, and he leaves us to endure our calamities and griefs in loneliness and desolation of soul.

If any of my readers has ever experienced some such feeling as this, let him not suppose for a moment that his case is exceptional. Alas! to all of us the night cometh. For some reason — and I am now quite sure that it is a benevolent reason — God sometimes hides his face from us. Clouds arise over our lives. Our sun goes down. Gloomy shadows come creeping across our pathway. We cry to him in our distress, but it grows darker and darker. And now we cannot see our way. We are “walking in darkness, and have no light.”

But shall we give over? Shall we abandon God because in his own wise love he is leading us down into vales of darkness in order to conduct us to greater heights and brighter joys beyond? Shall we imagine that we are not his children, and not accepted by him, because he chastens and corrects us? Surely we did not become Christians in order to make money; to secure uninterrupted worldly prosperity; to enjoy and immunity from the ills and sorrows of life, but to become perfect as God is perfect; and to this end to yield ourselves to his guidance and discipline in the full assurance of faith.

The instruction given by the prophet seems to cover the whole case: “Who is among you that feareth the Lord, that obeyeth the voice of his servant, that walketh in darkness, and hath no light? let him trust in the name of the Lord, and stay upon his God” (Isaiah 50:10). Translating this language into our dispensation, it is evident that he that “feareth the Lord, and obeyeth the voice of his servant,” the Christ, is a Christian. He need have no doubt as to his standing and relation. He is a child of God, beloved, and watched over, and cared for. And if it be so that for a time he “walketh in darkness and hath no light,” this should not be thought a reason for distrusting God’s favorable disposition, or his own acceptance with him. On the contrary, he is to feel that these clouds and this darkness are round about the very throne of God; and that, in being led into the darkness, he is really coming closer to God. While, therefore, the outward light is shut out, it should only, like Milton’s blindness, intensify the brightness of the spiritual vision. It is now that God is indeed specially near, a very present help in time of trouble. These occasions, therefore, are calls to us not to walk, and not to try to walk, by sight, but by faith. When a Christian is in darkness and hath no light, he still has one blessed resource—he can ”trust in the name of the Lord, and stay upon his God.”

And surely, if we can believe that our troubles, afflictions and sorrows are neither accidents nor judgments, but chastisements, giving evidences of truest love on God’s part, and assurances that he regards us as his children, we shall not only submit to them, but we shall find in them sources of richest blessing, and occasions for thanksgiving and praise. For though he may lead us into the darkness, he also giveth to his beloved songs in the night.