The Loving-kindness of the Lord

Chapter 7 THE LOVING-KINDNESS OF THE LORD, ON THE WILD, IN THE DUNGEON, IN THE SICK-ROOM, AND ON THE SEAS. A MEDITATION.

O give thanks unto the LORD, for he is good: for his mercy endureth for ever. Let the redeemed of the LORD say so, whom he hath redeemed from the hand of the enemy; And gathered them out of the lands, from the east, and from the west, from the north, and from the south. They wandered in the wilderness in a solitary way; they found no city to dwell in. Hungry and thirsty, their soul fainted in them. Then they cried unto the LORD in their trouble, and he delivered them out of their distresses. And he led them forth by the right way, that they might go to a city of habitation. Oh that men would praise the LORD for his goodness, and for his wonderful works to the children of men! For he satisfieth the longing soul, and filleth the hungry soul with goodness. Such as sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, being bound in affliction and iron; Because they rebelled against the words of God, and contemned the counsel of the most High: Therefore he brought down their heart with labour; they fell down, and there was none to help. Then they cried unto the LORD in their trouble, and he saved them out of their distresses. He brought them out of darkness and the shadow of death, and brake their bands in sunder. Oh that men would praise the LORD for his goodness, and for his wonderful works to the children of men! For he hath broken the gates of brass, and cut the bars of iron in sunder. Fools because of their transgression, and because of their iniquities, are afflicted. Their soul abhorreth all manner of meat; and they draw near unto the gates of death. Then they cry unto the LORD in their trouble, and he saveth them out of their distresses. He sent his word, and healed them, and delivered them from their destructions. Oh that men would praise the LORD for his goodness, and for his wonderful works to the children of men! And let them sacrifice the sacrifices of thanksgiving, and declare his works with rejoicing. They that go down to the sea in ships, that do business in great waters; These see the works of the LORD, and his wonders in the deep. For he commandeth, and raiseth the stormy wind, which lifteth up the waves thereof. They mount up to the heaven, they go down again to the depths: their soul is melted because of trouble. They reel to and fro, and stagger like a drunken man, and are at their wits' end. Then they cry unto the LORD in their trouble, and he bringeth them out of their distresses. He maketh the storm a calm, so that the waves thereof are still. Then are they glad because they be quiet; so he bringeth them unto their desired haven. Oh that men would praise the LORD for his goodness, and for his wonderful works to the children of men! .... Whoso is wise, and will observe these things, even they shall understand the lovingkindness of the LORD. - Psalms 107:1-31; Psalms 107:43

'Whoso is wise, and will observe these things, even they shall understand the loving-kindness of the Lord.' May we be enabled to exercise the power of observation, may we be filled with the grace of understanding, and may we find the theme to be possessed of increasing attractions, so that ' gladness and joy shall be found therein, thanksgiving and the voice of melody.' The Psalmist selects some rich and remarkable instances of God's gracious interposition, bids his readers study them and form their own conclusions from them. If we wish to 'understand' the loving-kindness of the Lord, we need not speculate, we have only to observe;' and we have not anxiously to cast about for examples, as they are gathered and classified for us in the induction which distinguishes this inspired song. Let us then be 'wise' and 'observe' them ― let us interrogate them, and find what they say, singly and collectively, of 'the loving-kindness of the Lord.' Besides the miscellaneous illustrations that occur towards the end of the Psalm, there are four special instances set before us: the wanderer in the desert; the prisoner reduced to slavery; the poor and helpless invalid; and the mariner overtaken by the storm; while the record of each instance ends with the hearty refrain ― ' Oh that men would praise the Lord for his goodness, and for his wonderful works to the children of men.' If, then, we ' will observe these things,' and if we analyze the form, the period, and the result of these divine manifestations, we shall, by the divine blessing, ' understand ' something of the loving-kindness of the Lord. And,

1. If one ' is wise and will observe these things,' he ' shall understand the loving-kindness of the Lord' to be effectual loving-kindness. It gives complete relief. It is no mockery of favour, no semblance of love. It deals not in half measures, but secures complete deliverance. In order to prove this, let us obey the Psalmist and ' observe.' The wanderer in the wilderness has lost his path, and knows not whither he is going; there are no marks to guide him, no footprints which he may select and follow; all about him is monotonous sameness, the sultry sky above him, and the dreary waste, as far as his eye can reach, on every side of him. And what is now done for him? The divine care does not pave a path for him through the quagmires, remove a few sand-hills, vail the heavens to cool him, open a spring for his thirst, or create an oasis on which he may refresh his weary limbs. 'No; it does a more thorough work for him, for it guides him out of the desert ― keeps him in the right path,' and leaves him not till it brings him ' to a city of habitation.' It also effectually provides for him ― gives him not a scanty repast, the tasting of which only whets his appetite for more, but ' He satisfieth the longing soul, and filleth the hungry soul with goodness.' The deliverance is complete, and safety is secured.

Again, the slave is shut up in the dungeon, into which ' the shadow of death ' has collected itself, the ' iron ' gnawing his limb, and ' affliction ' preying upon his heart. Now the divine love does not simply lighten his chain, or abridge his hours of labour, procure him some compensation for his drudgery, or teach him a song to gladden his captivity. No; but the intervention is decisive, and the prisoner is fully and finally liberated. 'He hath broken the gates of brass, and cut the bars of iron in sunder.'

Father, in the case of the invalid, sick, restless, and to all appearance about to die, the sympathy of God does not merely grant him an hour of respite, or a slight amelioration, a calmer pulse, or a less feverish brow ― prolonged life with broken health. No; but it restores him, and so restores him as to leave no lingering weakness, no remnant of his previous malady. He sent his word and healed them, and delivered them from their destructions.'

Lastly, there are the mariners, 'that go down to the sea in ships.' The hurricane sweeps over them, the winds rise in their anger, and the sea rolls in wild disturbance; so that ' they mount up to the heavens, they go again to the depths.' Now, the divine watchfulness does not content itself with abating the blast, lowering the crest of the billow, or effecting a lull in the tempest, leaving the ' shipmen ' still at the mercy of the elements and far from the spot of their destination. No; but ' he maketh the storm a calm, so that the waves thereof are still.' Nay more. Himself pilots the vessel, and 'so He bringeth them unto their desired haven.' If thus we 'observe these things' as the Psalmist instructs us, we shall learn the lesson, that His kindness is effectual in every emergency. The same perfection of rescue is seen in our salvation. The sinner is not let alone at any point of his history, but is at length guided to glory. He gets, not an occasional, but a full forgiveness; and, on being pardoned, he is not then left to find the means of his sanctification, but he becomes, by divine grace, a new creature, undergoing, not a partial, but a total renovation. "Nor is he sanctified, but left unprovided with sources of happiness, for he is taken up to complete and eternal enjoyment in heaven. Why should not we invoke His kindness, and trust in it; and why should not those who have felt it to be so effective themselves, or seen it to be so in the experience of others, ― why should not they join in the chorus, ' Oh that men would praise the Lord for his goodness, and for his wonderful works to the children of men!'

2. If we obey the Psalmist, and ' observe these things,' we ' shall understand the loving-kindness of the Lord' to be seasonable loving-kindness. Let us again review the instances ― The wanderers could not find their way. It was a solitary path which they so feebly trod, and on which they so often stumbled. They were fast being bewildered. Their stores were exhausted, ' hungry and thirsty their soul fainted in them.' 'No wreath of smoke hanging in the air indicated a human habitation. They were about to lie down on the sand and die, when heaven descended to their aid, led them out of the danger, and brought them to those who had mourned them as lost, and who were filled with gladness on their return. The bondmen could not achieve their emancipation, and the fetter only cut the deeper into their flesh with every effort to break it or wrest their limb out of it. They could not dispel the ' shadow' that lay upon them, nor win their way back to freedom.

'They fell down, and there was none to help.' Their heart sank under their suffering. They were preparing themselves for the prospect of a hopeless bondage, and looked for release only in that world 'where the wicked cease from troubling, and where the weary are at rest,' when the Divine Liberator came down and achieved their deliverance, said ' to the prisoners, go forth; and to them that sit in darkness, show yourselves.' The sick and suffering patients had been using every remedy, yet were ' nothing bettered, but rather grew worse' ― 'their soul abhorreth all manner of meat, and they draw near to the gates of death.' They are given over by their friends, and they make up their minds that they must soon die. But just as they turned their ' back to the wall, and wept sore' under this terrible sensation, the great Physician visits them, lays His hand on them, and bids them live. The malady is arrested at the moment when it seemed to triumph, and they are rescued from the grave as they were at the point of falling into it. The sailors were on the tempestuous deep, and the gale still grew in wildness ― ' the sea wrought, and was tempestuous.' The mast was strained, the cordage loosened, and the canvas torn to shivers. The ship had been ' lightened,' but was still ' covered with the waves.' No anchor could hold, the yawning seams could not be kept together by being ' under-girded;' all the resources of their nautical craft had failed, and their 'soul is melted because of trouble.' But when they could do no more, and 'were at their wit's end,' and the bark, struck by a few more seas, must have foundered, then, ― He who 'gathers the winds in his fist,' and 'measures the waters in the hollow of his hand,' looked on them in pity, dispersed the storm-cloud, and took the vessel safely into the harbor.

Thus God interferes in the crisis, and waits till it come, ere He show His power and love. Man is allowed to feel his own weakness, and feel it so thoroughly as to be convinced, that if God do not save him he must perish. He is suffered to make an experiment upon human help, nay is allowed ample time to make a series of experiments upon it, so that be may himself come to the conclusion, that his only refuge is in God. And when this conclusion in the end is pressed upon him, then does God step in to his rescue. It is often at the moment of sharpest agony, that the peace of God enters the heart; it is at the point when sorrow comes to be past all endurance, that 'He healeth the broken in heart, and bindeth up their wounds.' The angel of the Lord did not retard Abraham's journey to Moriah, but he intercepted the patriarch's band as it trembled in the act of descent with the fatal knife. Isaac lay bound on the altar, ere the rustling of the ram was heard in the thicket. Thus man learns to appreciate God's kindness, for it is so seasonable; and thus the interference of God is ever at the best time, for it is His time. And surely it becomes us to wait for it. If it be delayed, it may be to try our faith; or it may be that the moment of our preparation to receive it has not come round. Some lingering remnant of self-reliance about us may retard the arm of the Lord. ' It is good that a man should both hope and quietly wait for the salvation of the Lord.' The apparent delay is explained by His servant ― ' That he might humble thee, and that he might prove thee, to do thee good at thy latter end.' And if, when the hour of peril came, His loving-kindness has come too ― if our extremity has always been His opportunity, then should we raise the anthem for ourselves ― for all, ' Oh that men would praise the Lord for his goodness, and for his wonderful works to the children of men.'

3. If we will ' observe these things,' we ' shall understand the loving-kindness of the Lord' to be undeserved loving-kindness. For it is manifested to those who did not merit it ― to those who had brought themselves, by their own temerity and sin, into danger and difficulty. Let us again, in evidence of this, follow the Psalmist's guidance, and 'observe,' so that we may 'understand.'

First, they who had lost their road in the desert should not have been there at all. Why did they leave the common haunts of life and expose themselves to such jeopardy? Why should they prefer the ' solitary way' to the trodden and frequented one? Why did they leave the scenes of cultivation, or the green banks of the stream, and be found at length ' hungry and thirsty?' The motive was either restlessness and dissatisfaction, or a mere spirit of adventure, or the ambitious desire to explore new tracts, or farm a more fertile glebe, or found a new colony, and raise a new city. They do not seem to have been in the way of duty, when they ran the terrible risk. They might therefore have been suffered to faint and die; and their bones, bleached in the shower and breeze, would have been an ominous warning to future rovers and malcontents. In the second instance which we are asked to 'observe' ― the sin is expressly stated ― those who 'were bound in affliction and iron,' had brought upon themselves such a penalty: ' Because they rebelled against the words of God, and contemned the counsel of the Most High, therefore he brought down their heart with sorrow.' They would not serve God, and therefore they are forced to serve man. They would not serve God willingly, and now they serve man by compulsion. They would not wear His 'yoke, which is easy,' and therefore they were shut up ' and sit in darkness and in the shadow of death.' And in God's righteous judgment they might have drooped in hopeless captivity, and have found no freedom but in death; and these ' gates of brass' might have opened only that their corpses might be carried to an ignoble sepulcher ― the spot where 'the servant is free from his master.' In the third case, those bowed down by disease are expressly called 'fools,' who, 'because of their transgressions, and because of their iniquities, are afflicted.' Their own folly chastises them, and they might, as they well deserved, have pined and died. They had no claim for health, and they might have been suffered to feel that 'the wages of sin is death.' The mariners, however, are described as those 'that do business in great waters.' It was not sin that led them to follow out their useful and exciting profession. But perhaps their error is, that they forget their close dependence upon God. They tread with perfect security that thin and frail plank, which is the only partition between them and the devouring billow. They trust in the skill of their captain, and in the quick eye and steady hand of their helmsman, but omit to place a higher confidence in God. So often have they ploughed the deep ― so often have they been placed with only sky above and sea around, that the sublime scene creates no impression, and his ' wonders in the deep,' seen so frequently, raise no feelings of amazement or devotion. They look on the glorious mirror, but they recognise not the Almighty's form glassing itself. In time past, when ' the Lord sent out a great wind, and there was a mighty tempest in the sea, so that the ship was like to be broken,' they had found that their pilot did weather the storm, and they looked not above to Him who sat ' king upon the flood;' who rode in the whirlwind, and so controlled the blast, that ' the sea ceased from her raging.' So often had they been preserved, so firm had been the ' tackling,' so accurate the 'soundings,' and so often in their distress had they discovered a creek into the which to thrust in the ship, 'that, when again ' the sea arose by reason of a great wind that blew,' they still had reliance on themselves. And they are therefore punished for their temerity and self-confidence, and might have perished. 'When thou didst blow with thy wind,' they might have sunk ' as lead in the mighty waters,' and remained in the abyss till the time when ' the sea shall give up its dead.'

Thus, if we ' observe,' we shall find that the loving-kindness of the Lord is always undeserved. It is free and sovereign. We forget Him, but He does not forget us; and when our sins expose us to imminent peril ― and that peril is a righteous and appropriate punishment, even then does He 'make no tarrying,' but He swiftly comes to save us. Thus, ' when we were without strength, Christ died for the ungodly.' Paul was racing on an errand of blood when the divine grace laid hold on him. If, then, we have no claim upon Him, and yet He so effectually and seasonably aids us, will we not respond, ' Oh that men would praise the Lord for his goodness, and for his wonderful works to the children of men!'

4. If we are wise, and will 'observe these things,' we shall 'understand the loving-kindness of the Lord' to be habitual loving-kindness. The Psalmist does not mean that God has done those acts of beneficent intervention once, and only once; but He means that God is in the habit of doing them. He has special pleasure in doing them. He often takes the wanderer by the hand and leads him, often brings liberty to the captive, often heals and raises up the sick, and often quiets the foaming surge. Had He shown this power and affection but once, had 'these things' been solitary operations, men would hesitate to place confidence in Him; might have supposed that His love had expired, or that His power was exhausted. Our question would have been, shall such loving-kindness be again exhibited, and to us? if we need it, shall we get it? But we learn that it is God's daily and customary work, and so each of us can say, 'My soul, wait thou only upon God; for my expectation is from him.' He has often vouchsafed relief to others, and will He not to thee: ' The Lord's hand is not shortened.' Similar is His loving-kindness in redemption; for He ' daily loadeth us with benefits.' He bestows not one pardon, but myriads of them; not a solitary spiritual impulse, but a long series of them; not a single deliverance, but a succession of them; not one answer to prayer without a second, but a host of them beyond memory or calculation: ' Many, O Lord my God, are thy wonderful works which thou hast done, and thy thoughts which are to us-ward; they cannot be reckoned up in order to thee; if I would declare and speak of them, they are more than can be numbered.' And thus, if the Divine Benefactor never wearies in blessing us; if we partake so often, and as often are warranted still to entertain the hope that we may and shall partake again, will we not express our own gratitude, and invoke humanity in all conditions and countries to enter into the same exercise ― ' Oh that men would praise the Lord for his goodness, and for his wonderful works to the children of men.'

5. If we take pains and still ' observe these things,' we shall find ' these things' all to be acts of simultaneous loving-kindness. God is not so occupied with one case of misery as to overlook the others. All these deeds of loving-kindness may happen, and very often do happen, at one and the same time. While He is engaged in the wilderness, He is not so wholly absorbed as to forget that He has work to do on the ocean. When He descends 'to hear the groaning of the prisoner,' He is not so wholly engrossed as to desert the bed of affliction. But when He is filling the hungry, at that very moment He is gladdening the heart of the sailor; when He is breaking the chain of the captive, He is at the same instant quickening and restoring the invalid. His loving-kindness does not travel in narrow tracks, but it is ever active and is universally diffused. It may be found on the steppes of Tartary at the same point of time as amidst the waves of the Atlantic ― equally and at the one minute among the icebergs of the poles and the torrid plains of the equator. He is everywhere to bless and save. Never do His worshipers, like those of ancient Baal, need to cry to Him in frenzy, under the idea that 'He sleepeth. or is in a journey,' or is otherwise occupied. Others may be receiving assistance, but you may receive it too. Their getting does not prevent you from getting. The blessing does not pass you as it goes to them. When Sir Philip Sidney was about to moisten his fevered lips on the battle-field, and beheld a wounded soldier look up wistfully at the draught of water, he at once denied himself, and ordered the cup to be handed to his wounded comrade in arms. But no one of us needs so to deny himself, for his reception of the gift is no stealthy anticipation of others, nor does he snatch to himself what might be divided in common with them. There is ever 'enough and to spare.' Why, then, should there not be unbounded confidence in God, in whom each one of us, be he where he may or how he may, lives, moves, and has his being? O let us rejoice in such omnipresent goodness, and trust in it. Let us ever feel that God's kindness to others does not shade his benignity to us ― for the desert far inland, and the sea in its remote latitudes, the dungeon and the couch of suffering may be all at the same moment the scene of seasonable and effective intervention. As we cannot exile ourselves from His presence, or pass beyond the pale of His energy, shall we not, as we survey His unbounded and sleepless munificence, cry out in the fulness of our joy, 'Oh that men would praise the Lord for his goodness, and for his wonderful works to the children of men!'

6. If we ' observe these things,' yet further and finally, we ' shall understand' that the loving-kindness of the Lord is manifested in answer to prayer. When they who had lost their way in the sandy waste, ' wherein were fiery serpents, and scorpions, and drought, where there was no water,' found the vanity of every shift, and became conscious of their own utter helplessness, ― ' then they cried unto the Lord in their trouble, and he delivered them out of their distresses.' They who had been loaded with fetters, and guarded by ' bars of iron,' were so convinced of their feebleness and of their desperate condition, that ' then they cried unto the Lord, and he saved them out of their distresses.' The sick and suffering, to whom wearisome days and nights were appointed,' as they lay and tossed on their couch, feel that He alone could befriend them, and then ' they cry unto the Lord in their trouble, and he saveth them out of their distresses.' And the mariners also, as the gloom of the hurricane closes on them, and they drift wildly before it, cast themselves on the divine pilotage, and cry' at length ' unto the Lord, and he bringeth them out of their distresses.' In all these instances of danger they cry, and that cry is heard. ' His ear is ever open to their cry.' The ear of man may be too distant to listen. The cry of the wanderer might be borne on the breeze, and its echo might startle the beast that roams in the desert, but it could bring no relief. The groan of the slave might sink to the earth where he lay and pined, but it penetrated not through doors and walls, and his tyrant heard it not. The moan of the sick man might fill his own chamber, and be too feeble to pass beyond it; and the shriek of the mariner might be lost in the howl of the storm ― but each cry came up before God, and brought down instantaneous, appropriate, and effective succour.

'Is any among you afflicted? Let him pray.' Such prayer, indeed all prayer, is the instinctive cry for help. It is not a daily penance, or a formal repetition, but the natural outburst of a spirit yearning for deliverance. And when it asks for Christ's sake, it is assuredly heard and answered: Out of the depths have I cried unto thee, Lord. 'Lord, hear my voice.' The spirit, in the hour of its weakness, looks up to God, and He blesses and saves. O, then, ask and wait; wrestle and triumph. What has not God done in answer to prayer ― ' what terrible things in righteousness?' Human entreaty has shut up heaven, and has again opened it. At the voice of a man the sun stood still. Prayer has sweetened the bitter fountain, divided the sea, and stilled its waves. It has disbanded armies, and prevented conflict; it has shortened battle, and given victory to right. It has conferred temporal abundance, as in the case of Jabez; and given effect to medical appliances, as in the case of Hezekiah. It has quenched the mouth of lions, and opened the gates of the prison-house. As Jesus prayed by the river, the dove alighted on Him; and as He prayed on the hill. He was transfigured. The glory of God was manifested to Moses when be asked it, and the grace of Christ to Paul when he besought it. Not a moment elapsed between the petition of the crucified thief, and its glorious answer. Ere Daniel concluded his devotion, the celestial messenger stood at his side. The praying church brought down upon itself the Pentecostal effusion. Will we not be encouraged by such examples to ' look up;' and will not this be the experience of each of us: 'I sought the Lord, and he heard me, and delivered me from all my fears. This poor man cried, and the Lord heard him, and saved him out of all his troubles.' If we will not ask, how can we expect to enjoy? and if we do ask and get, then surely may we not sing, ' Oh that men would praise the Lord for his goodness, and for his wonderful works to the children ,of men!'

One word more: if we observe the miscellaneous ' things ' which conclude the Psalm, we ' shall understand the loving-kindness of the Lord ' to be often startling in its nature and results. The good it does is amazing, and the penalty it sends is confounding. On the one hand ' He turneth the rivers into a wilderness, and water-springs into dry ground;' and, on the other hand, ' He turneth the wilderness into a standing water, and dry ground into water-springs.' At one time ' He turneth the fruitful land into barrenness, for the wickedness of them that dwell therein;' and at another time He converts the desert into a fertile landscape, ' and there He maketh the hungry to dwell, that they may prepare a city for habitation, and sow the fields, and plant vineyards which may yield fruits of increase.' At one epoch such colonists are loyal to Him, and ' lie blesseth them also, so that they are multiplied greatly, and He suffereth their cattle to increase;' and at another epoch, 'again ' when they forget Him, ' they are minished and brought low through oppression, affliction, and sorrow.' Sometimes He sends a terrible revolution which convulses society, and turns it upside down. Then, ' He poureth contempt upon princes, and causeth them to wander in the wilderness where there is no way;' and ' yet setteth he the poor on high from affliction, and maketh him families like a flock.' Such acts are of loving-kindness ― not only those of prosperity, but also those of adversity. These sudden and terrible reverses are meant to teach and humble ― for they show the justice of God, exhibit the evil of sin, and induce man to forsake it. Therefore adds the Psalmist, ' The righteous shall see it and rejoice, and all iniquity shall stop her mouth.' Such a history says, ' unto the fools. Deal not foolishly; and to the wicked. Lift not up the horn, lift not up your horn on high; speak not with a stiff neck. For promotion cometh neither from the east, nor from the west, nor from the south. But God is judge; he putteth down one, and setteth up another.' In conclusion, ' Whoso is wise, and will observe these things, even they shall understand the loving-kindness of the Lord.' We have endeavored to ' observe,' and we trust that now we ' understand the loving-kindness of the Lord' to be effectual, seasonable, undeserved, habitual, simultaneous, and exercised in answer to prayer. And as we see it so strikingly exemplified in the wanderer, the slave, the invalid, and the mariner, let us always adore it, and ask grace to enable us to 'walk as the children of so many mercies.'