06.0.4.5. The Fourth Day
V. -- THE FOURTH DAY
HITHERTO we have traced but one half of the work which God accomplishes upon the creature which is subject to His word. Now, having reached "the third day," we pass from the stages in which the work for the most part is bounding and restraining, to those where the work is adorning and perfecting; when, the distinction being clearly made between what is of God and what is natural to the creature, He proceeds to furnish all the various parts with the forms of light and life suited to each. At this stage, when the earth is raised into heavenly places, many seem to think the work is done. But now begins the perfecting and adorning process, which does not cease until "the image of God" appears. So St. Paul, writing to the Colossians, exhorts to growth in grace in language exactly answering to the stages of creation which we are now to enter on; starting from, "If ye be risen," and leading on the Church to "put on the new man, which is renewed in the image of Him that created him" (Colossians 3:1; Colossians 3:10). So he says, "If ye be risen, seek things above:" look for things in heaven, to comfort and enlighten you. Lights to guide, hitherto unknown, will shine upon you, making alternate seasons rich with blessing. Then again advance: -- "Put on, as the elect of God, bowels of mercies, kindness, humbleness of mind, longsuffering." Put on the graces which are prefigured in the dove and lamb and ox, which appear in season upon the fifth and sixth days. And then "put on the new man, which is renewed in knowledge after the image of Him that created him." So writes Paul, "without a veil;" so writes Moses, "with a veil," "which veil is done away in Christ" (2 Corinthians 3:14).
We are then to trace the stages after resurrection-life is known, through resurrection-lights, till we reach "the moving creature," first creeping, then walking, but with face earthwards; and then "the man," with open face, erect, and looking upward. The fourth day’s work is "lights set in heaven" (Genesis 1:14-15): a mighty work: more glorious far than the "light" upon the first day. Then the light was undefined. Now lights are come; the one with warmth; the other cold but shining: each defined; one direct, the other reflex; but both to rule and mightily affect, not the earth only, but even the wide waters: giving another check, too, to darkness, not only taking from it Day, but invading and conquering it by the moon and stars in its own domain of Night. And so after that the seas of lust are bounded, and the fruits of righteousness begin to grow and bud, a sun, a mighty light, is kindled in our heaven, -- Christ dwells there, God’s eternal word and wisdom, -- no longer undefined, but with mighty warmth and power, making the whole creation to bud and spring heavenward; while as a handmaid, another light, of faith, grows bright, within, -- our inward moon, the Church’s light, or truth received on testimony; for as men say, Christ is the sun, the Church the moon, so is faith our moon within to rule the night. (Note: Those instructed in the Word will not only find no difficulty in seeing how the moon, which outwardly is the Church, is faith inwardly, but further know that there must be this double application, as in the well-known case of Hagar and Sarah. Outwardly, Hagar is the Jewish dispensation, which stood on law, and Sarah is the Christian Church, which stands on faith. But these dispensations of God have their course in individual souls, and in this inward application Hagar is law, and Sarah the promise, or the gospel. See Galatians 4:22; Galatians 4:31.) Of these two, the lesser light must have appeared the first; for each day grew and was measured "from the evening to the morning;" just as faith, with borrowed light, in every soul still precedes the direct beams of the greater light of the Word of Wisdom in us. Now both shine to pour down light. Oft should we err, if, when darkness fell, our moon of faith rose not to rule the night. Yet fair as she is, she but reminds us of present night, making us sigh for the day-star and the perfect day. Thus are "the two great lights" now given by Him who began His work by giving "light." Now He gives the word of wisdom, that is the greater light; and again the word of knowledge or faith, that is the lesser light; then tongues, or discerning of spirits, or healings, like the stars, lesser manifestations of the same one Spirit. (Note: This is Augustine’s exposition, speaking of the fourth day, Confess. l. xiii. c. 18, § 23. The place here given to sacraments is worthy of notice. Augustine makes them only parts of the lesser light. They are no part of the sun, which rules the day, but only of the moon, that is, the word of faith or knowledge. See also Aug. de Gen. c. Man. l. i. c. 25, § 43. Origen’s comment is the same in substance, Hom. i. in Gen.) That such lights, so different and so defined, may be within, is never known by some who yet have been enlightened. The first day’s light has reached them: perhaps the heaven has come: but the waters are not bounded; the earth as yet is not fruitful. To such the difference of lights and their distinct powers must be unknown. Let it not therefore be unlooked for by them. Not till the earth has brought forth fruit are these bright lights set in heaven. The lower fruitfulness of action must precede the higher delights of heavenly contemplation. Not till some fruits appear shall we be adorned with heavenly lights. Then not only is the earth blessed with dews and showers, "the precious things of heaven;" but "precious things are now brought forth by the sun, and precious things put forth by the moon also" (Deuteronomy 33:13-14). (Note: See Isidor. in Gloss. Ordinar. Augustine notices the same, Confess. l. xiii. c. 18, § 22 and 24. He goes on to instance the young man in the Gospel (Matthew 19:16), as one who, because he bore not fruit, could not advance to see the heavenly lights.) Now we perceive wherein the borrowed light of faith, resting on witness, differs from the direct light of truth, from Christ Himself within. Henceforward even the night is bright with stars: darkness is conquered even within its own borders. Faith invades the gloom, turning it at times almost to day, an approach to the glory, when "no night is there" (Revelation 21:25); now waxing, now waning, but never to fall or fail, until "our sun shall no more go down, neither our moon withdraw itself" (Isaiah 60:19-20). Now we see, too, how the creature’s darkness, like death, only brings into view the greater wonders of God’s work in heavenly places. Darkness shews us that the earth has a celestial suite, bright companions in heaven night and day waiting on it; moving it with celestial influences, its air, its earth, its tides; giving colour, warmth, motion, life, everywhere. Who can count all that is given from on high, when we can see that our wondrous path is not indeed a lone one, -- that a heavenly sun attracts, -- that a heavenly moon follows, -- that, though darkness may visit us, henceforth it does not rule us, but is ruled, and that even in the night which still remains in us, we have the presence of Jesus the mediator of the better covenant, and the Church of the First-born, and the spirits of just men made perfect, and an innumerable company of holy angels, who, like the morning stars, are singing all around? In bright days their quiet song, wherein they tell God’s glory, may not be heard; yet they watch and sing and go with us. The gloomy night will bring them into view, still ready to teach us if we have a heart to learn.
These lights are "for signs and for seasons and for years," and "to rule over the day and over the night also" (Genesis 1:14; Genesis 1:18). For "signs" -- first, of what we are. We have thought this earth is fixed: but sun and moon shew that we are but wanderers here. We have supposed ourselves the centre; that it is the sun that moves. The lights will teach us in due time that he is steadfast: it is we who journey on. Again, these lights are "for a sign" how we stand, and where we are; by our relative positions toward them shewing us, if we will learn, our real situation. For the moon is new and feeble, when, between us and the sun, it trenches on his place, and sets at eventide. So is our faith: put in Christ’s place, it must be weak: dark will be our night: we shall move on unillumined. Not so when in her place, not in His, but over against Him, our moon of faith rises at even, as our Sun withdraws Himself. Now she trenches not upon Him; therefore she is full of light, making the midnight almost as the noon-day. So it is said, "Blow up the trumpet in the new moon" (Psalms 81:3; Psalms 81:5); and when the moon is full "eat ye the Paschal Lamb" (Exodus 12:6, &c.); that is, let the trumpet of the gospel sound, when faith is weak: when faith is strong, rejoice together in communion. Thus are the lights "for signs" of what and where we are. Dimmed by mists, they tell also of what remains in us. Turned to darkness and to blood, they forewarn of awful fire, when the earth and the works therein shall be burned up (Luke 21:25, and 2 Peter 3:10). Signs they are, too, to the man, when at length he walks upon the earth, -- the image of God, which after fruits and lights is formed in us, -- to guide him through the wastes within the creature, as he seeks to know its lengths and breadths that he may subdue it all.
Thus are the lights "for signs:" but they are "for seasons" also (Genesis 1:14); to give healthful alternations of cold and heat, and light and darkness. Sharp winters with their frosts, chill and deadness in our affections, and the hours of darkness which recur to dim our understandings, are not unmixed evil. In the coming rest such alternations will not be needed: therefore no summer or winter or shades of night are there. Here, like the gales from the ocean, they remind us of our state, and in that state work in the creature what is really best for it. We could not bear, while as we are, unbroken day. It would, though we know it not, destroy the creature. Ceaseless summer would wear us out: therefore the lights are "for seasons," measuring out warmth and light as we can profit by it. So faith wanes and waxes, and Christ is seen and hid, each change making the creature learn its own dependence; forcing it to feel, that, though blessed, it is a creature, all whose springs of life and joy are not its own.
These lights, too, are "to rule over the day and over the night." To rule the creature, much more to rule such gifts as the day, wrought by God Himself in it, as yet has been unknown. Even to bound the natural darkness hitherto has seemed high attainment. Now we learn that the precious gifts, which God vouchsafes, need ruling; an earnest this of that which comes more fully on the sixth day. A sun "to rule the day" leads to the man "to have dominion," set to rule, not the day only, but every creature. It is no slight step, when God’s aim, hitherto unknown, is learnt; that in His work this gift is for this, that for the other purpose; when it is felt that the best gifts may be misused and wasted; that they need governing, and may and must be ruled. No young Christian feels this; but as he grows up into Christ, his day not only shines, but is divinely governed. The sun now marks the hours, setting to each their bound: morning is discerned from noon, and noon from evening. O blessed day, when the creature comes to bask in sunshine; gift on gift poured on it in due order from the God of all grace!