01.05. Meditation 5

MEDITATION 5.

"This is my comfort in my affliction" Psalms 119:50

"Though the mountains depart and the hills be removed — yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken nor my covenant of peace be removed — says the LORD, who has compassion on you." Isaiah 54:10 In some hour of pensive thought, everyone must have experienced a strange mixture of feelings, in contemplating the aspects of nature, with reference to the short and uncertain duration of human life. Some objects in nature present, indeed, a fair emblem of our fleeting existence. The lily, which blooms and fades in spring — the rose, which summer expands, and which sheds its leaves before summer is closed — the thousand insects which glitter in the morning sun, and which are brushed into the pond by the breeze of evening — the vapor which rises from the earth, and floats for a season in the sky — but is dispersed so soon as the meridian sun pours its full flood of light and heat over the earth and sea.

These objects, so beautiful, and yet so transient, seem to be faithful emblems of the shortness and uncertainty of human life; and as such, they are referred to in the sacred page, when man, in all his glory, is compared to the "grass which grows up," and to "the flower of the grass which flourishes," and "to the vapor which appears for a little time, and then vanishes away." Other objects in nature are of a firmer texture and more enduring form; such as the mighty oak, which centuries have confirmed in strength — the trees of the forest, which our grandsires planted, and under which our fathers rested — and which, after all the storms that have raged around them, still afford us their shelter and shade. In contemplating such objects, a melancholy feeling is apt to steal over us — a feeling as if our age were as nothing in comparison with theirs. And we are ready to remember, with pensive sadness, the many generations of our friends whom they have survived, and to think, with sadness still more pensive — that the same branches may wave in the wintry wind, or grow green in the spring, or cover the earth with their shadow in autumn — when our frail bodies shall have been laid in their narrow home, and our eye forever shut to all the loveliness of nature. Yet, even in these objects we may discern the symptoms of age and frailty. The oak may be gnarled and bent, and here and there a branch may exhibit that rottenness which is the prelude to universal decay. But other objects there are which have had a still longer existence, and yet exhibit no tendency to change. The everlasting hills on which the eyes of our forefathers looked, are still before us. We live amidst the mountains to which they repaired as a harrier against invasion, or a refuge from ignoble thraldom — but where are the millions of our race whom these mountains sheltered? Where the eyes which once rested on their verdure? Where the limbs which toiled up their steep ascent? A thousand generations of our race have passed away — but these mountains are still substantially the same. In contemplating such scenes, who has not felt a sense of his own insignificance stealing over his heart, while he thought of the contrast which their stability presents to the frailty of man? But what shall we say, if even those objects which are most stable and enduring, shall be declared by God himself to be frail and perishing in comparison with ourselves — if the everlasting hills shall be held up as a faint emblem of our immortal and imperishable being; and if, after all the lessons which the flowers of the field, and the fleeting vapors of the sky, and the swiftness of the shadow, have been made to teach us of the vanity and uncertainty of our existence — here, those objects in nature which are of the firmest texture and most enduring form, shall be found, notwithstanding, too frail and fleeting to body forth our immortality? Above all, what shall we say, if those very objects which fill us with the deepest sense of our own frailty, by presenting a contrast in their enduring age to our own uncertain life — shall be selected by God himself, as emblems of his faithfulness to a promise which eternity alone can fully accomplish — and if even the everlasting hills shall be found too transient to represent the perpetuity of that kindness which he bears to us, and of that peace which he is willing to confer? "Though the mountains depart and the hills be removed — yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken nor my covenant of peace be removed — says the LORD, who has compassion on you."

Besides the promise which is directly conveyed to us in these words, they obviously presuppose, or imply, certain great truths which lie at the foundation of Christian comfort and hope.

1. The promise obviously implies the immortality of man. It points to the dissolution of the material world, and assures him that he shall survive the wreck of mountains. It refers to the day when the "earth shall be dissolved, and the elements shall melt with fervent heat, and the heavens shall be rolled up as a scroll" — and tells us that man, small, and insignificant, and frail as he seems to be, is destined to an immortal existence, and shall be the object of God’s care, after all other things shall have passed away! Did the believer fully realize this truth, which is one of the first elements of his creed, might he not, even when standing amidst the everlasting hills, exclaim, "Frail as I am, and deeply as in such scenes I feel my frailty — I am still immortal, and their duration shall bear no comparison with mine. True, they have stood the shock of ages, and ages yet to come may leave them where they stand; and long before they shall depart, nay, long before the trees which crown their summits shall wither or decay — the grave shall have received my mortal remains. But the soul within me cannot die; it will survive the shock of dissolution; death will be its birthday into an immortal existence. And in some future age, it will witness the removal of these mountains, and the dissolution of this world, while still it is exulting in the spring-time of eternal youth."

2. This promise implies the eternity and immutability of God, by whom it is made. He speaks as the eternal God — to man as an immortal being. He shall exist, unchanged and unchangeable, after this world shall have passed away. And what is God to His redeemed people? He is their Friend, their Portion, their All. Being assured, then, of their own immortality, what should afford a surer ground of confidence, or nourish a more joyful hope — than the thought that the God whom they love, in whom they trust, and whom they have chosen as their portion — shall exist, and continue the same forever? Yes, though all things else be changed — though the sun is blotted from the sky, and the stars fall from the heavens, and a universal change passes over the face of nature — yet, God being forever the same, He will be their everlasting support, the "strength of their hearts, and their portion forever." Did the believer fully realize this, might he not, even when he contemplates his departure out of this world, exclaim, "Take me from this earth, or let the earth itself be dissolved! Let me pass, if it is His will, into the eternal world. Being assured of my immortality, and of God’s eternal and unchangeable nature — I cannot be unbefriended or forlorn. Amidst all changes — He will be the same. And having my hope and confidence in God, that hope and confidence cannot be impaired by the greatest convulsions of nature."

"In the beginning You laid the foundations of the earth, and the heavens are the work of Your hands. They will perish, but You remain; they will all wear out like a garment. Like clothing You will change them and they will be discarded. But You remain the same, and Your years will never end!" Psalms 102:25-27

3. But what bond exists between God and man? What is the ground or warrant of that confidence which we draw from the consideration of God’s eternal existence, in respect to our own immortal state? The bond which connects God with man, the ground and warrant of our confidence — is His Word. It is plainly implied in this promise, that God’s word, the word which he has spoken for the comfort of his people, shall endure, and shall have its accomplishment, after "the mountains have departed, and the hills have been removed." God gives his simple word as our guarantee for eternity! In the midst of all our fears, he interposes his promise, and that must be our stay! And is it not sufficient? His word is immutable as God himself; by his word, the world was created; by his word, the world will be dissolved; and by the same word, his people will be sustained amidst all changes. That is a bond of security which time cannot invalidate, nor death impair, nor the wreck of universal nature destroy — for, says the apostle, "we are born again, not of corruptible seed, but of incorruptible — by the word of God, which lives and abides forever." And then, as if to meet the very fears which a sense of our frailty awakens, he adds, "all flesh is as grass, and all the glory of man as the flower of grass. The grass withers, and the flower thereof falls away; but the word of the Lord endures forever. And this is that word which by the Gospel is preached unto you." Of that word, our Lord himself declared, "that Heaven and earth shall pass away — but one jot or one tittle of the law cannot fail." "Because God wanted to make the unchanging nature of his purpose very clear to the heirs of what was promised, he confirmed it with an oath. God did this so that, by two unchangeable things in which it is impossible for God to lie, we who have fled to take hold of the hope offered to us may be greatly encouraged. We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure." Hebrews 6:17-19

While these three things — the immortality of man, the immutability of God, and the everlasting verity of his word — are necessarily implied in this sublime promise — its more direct and immediate object is to assure us of the unchangeable kindness of God, and of the everlasting stability of a covenant in which that kindness has been embodied, and is revealed. That we shall survive the dissolution of material nature is a sublime truth; but far more cheering is the assurance, that God’s kindness shall not depart from us, nor his covenant of peace be broken. This covenant, and that kindness, are in some respects distinguishable from each other — his kindness is the cause, the covenant is the effect. His kindness being the spring, in the divine mind, of all those streams of mercy, which flow through the channel of the covenant, for the refreshment of his weary and forlorn people.

It is the Covenant of GRACE which is here spoken of. It is mentioned in connection with God’s kindness; and he speaks as a forgiving father: "My covenant shall not depart, says the Lord that has mercy on you." Blessed be God! It is not of the covenant of works that he has spoken these unchangeable words, otherwise we might well call upon the hills and the mountains to fall upon us, and hide us from His wrath. The covenant of works is called "the ministration of death," "the ministration of condemnation" — but it is added, that it was a ministration which was to be done away. But the covenant here spoken of is "the ministration of the Spirit," "the ministration of righteousness," "the everlasting covenant," of which the apostle says, "if that which is done away was glorious, much more that which remains is glorious."

It is a Covenant of REDEMPTION. God here speaks as the Redeemer of his people, "For a small moment have I forsaken you; but with great mercies will I gather you. In a little wrath I hid my face from you for a moment; but with everlasting kindness will I have mercy on you, says the Lord your Redeemer."

It is GOD’S Covenant. He appropriates it to himself when he calls it the "covenant of MY peace;" nay, it is identified in Scripture with the necessary and unchangeable attributes of the divine nature. It is called "the counsel of God," "the wisdom of God," "the power of God unto salvation." So that if there is an immutable perfection in God, which no change in creation can alter — we may rest assured of the stability of that covenant which is the charter of our immortal hopes. His faithfulness, his truth, his love — are all pledged to its accomplishment; and for the honor of his name, as well as for the happiness of his people, "God will ever be mindful of his covenant."

It is a Covenant of LIFE — eternal life being the end in which it terminates. It is a covenant of faith — faith being the means by which its blessings are enjoyed. It is a covenant of promises — promises which embrace everything that is needful for our safety and improvement here, and for our endless happiness hereafter. It is a sure covenant, based on God’s infallible decree, registered in his unchangeable word, and sealed by the Savior’s blood. It is a well-ordered covenant, arranged by unerring wisdom, and adapted, in all respects, to the nature and necessities of his people.

It is a covenant of PEACE, of actual peace with God, and of sensible peace in the heart. Of actual peace, for Christ "has made peace by the blood of the cross." He has taken away the enmity, and laid the ground of a full and everlasting reconciliation between God and his people. So soon as we know the completeness and sufficiency of Christ’s atoning sacrifice, and the success with which he discharged the conditions and stipulations of that covenant — we not only see the solid ground of a sinner’s acceptance, but we may also enjoy, in a measure proportioned to the strength and constancy of our faith, the sensible experience of peace in our own hearts. And what kind of peace is this? God says, it is "My Peace," "the very peace of God which surpasses all understanding!" It is the same peace the Savior referred to, when, conversing with his sorrowing disciples in the prospect of his departure, he bequeathed it as his dying blessing, "Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world gives, give I unto you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid!" "Not as the world gives," for the world gives insincerely or partially, or only for a season — its best gifts, even when longest enjoyed, are in their own nature transient. We shall either be taken away from them, or they shall be taken from us, and assuredly they must terminate when the world itself is no more. But the peace of God, having its seat in the soul, and being independent of all outward conditions, is "a well of water that springs up unto everlasting life!"

It is an EVERLASTING Covenant. Its origin is hid in the eternal counsels of God before time began — and its outcomes shall be unfolded after time shall have run its course. The "eternal purpose which he purposed in Jesus Christ before the world was," although not revealed in all its vastness until "the fullness of times," did, nevertheless, determine the course of providence, and influence the condition of the human race, from the beginning. All events, the fall itself, the subsequent treatment of Adam and his posterity, the rise, establishment, and overthrow of nations and kingdoms, the marvelous economy of the Jews — all were permitted, with reference to this scheme of salvation, and were from the first subordinate, and will ultimately be rendered subservient, to the confirmation and establishment of God’s eternal covenant.

Down to this hour, it has stood unchanged, and from this hour onwards, to the end of time — will its influence extend. Men will, as of old, ridicule its claims, or deny its truth, or reject its authority, or refuse its offered blessings. Infidels, and idolaters, and the wicked of all classes, may combine to overthrow it — the fires of persecution may be lighted, and the sword unsheathed against its defenders. But that covenant, which rests on the decree of God, which bears the seal of the Redeemer’s blood, and to which the Divine Spirit bears witness — shall survive every successive assault, and remain, unchanged and unchangeable, after all its enemies have gone down to the grave! Nay, after the earth itself shall have been dissolved, and every man shall have disappeared from its surface — that covenant shall be still the same — eternity itself will only unfold its everlasting outcomes!

These great truths —
the immortality of man,
the immutability of God,
the verity of his word,
the stability of his covenant,
the unchangeableness of his kindness
— these are the pillars and supports of Christian faith and hope. They are eternal and unchangeable truths. Therefore, "We say with confidence: The Lord is my helper; I will not be afraid. What can man do to me?" "God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging!" "My heart and my flesh may fail — but God is the strength of my heart, and my portion forever" — for this is his own imperishable promise, "Though the mountains depart and the hills be removed — yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken nor my covenant of peace be removed — says the LORD, who has compassion on you." Is it true that we are immortal beings? Is it true that there is an unchangeable and eternal God? Is it true that he has spoken to us, and that his Word is in our hands, a Word which shall endure forever? Is it true that, in that Word, God reveals to us a covenant, in which, if we are personally interested, our safety is infallibly secured in time, and our happiness for eternity? Is it true, that, on our entering within the bonds of this covenant, embracing its promises, and conforming to its holy spirit — our eternal state depends? And is it, then, reasonable to delay for one hour the act by which we are to secure a saving interest this covenant? Is it right to pass on, from one stage to another of our earthly journey, all the while exposed to sudden death, without having made the everlasting salvation of our souls a matter of certainty? Would the men of the world thus delay, were a covenant or compact left open for their signature, by which they could secure a rich inheritance for themselves and their children on earth? Would they not be anxious to affix their names to the agreement, so as that all parties might be legally bound — lest, by sickness, or death, or some unforeseen contingency, their opportunity of implementing the deed might be forfeited? Yet, this is for an inheritance on the earth, an inheritance which they cannot long enjoy, however long it may endure — for they and their children must leave it at death. But here is a covenant waiting for our signature, a covenant with God, a charter for an immortal inheritance! Have we signed it for ourselves? Have we done our best to get the names of our children enrolled as "heirs of God" — or are we still "strangers to the covenant of promise, without Christ, and so without God, and without hope?"

Gracious God! have you given us such an economy of grace — a covenant which, like the rainbow, spans the whole horizon of time, and casts on its troubled atmosphere the rays of peace and hope! And shall we not see your rainbow in the clouds, and be glad? Have you sent this covenant as an ark on the swelling waters — and shall we not flee to it as our refuge, and be safe? Have you let down this golden chain out of Heaven, and shall we see it hanging over us, and within our reach, and not lay hold of it? Have you placed us under a dispensation, dictated by kindness, designed for peace, founded on a great redemption, sealed with the blood of your own Son, attested by all your people as well-ordered in all things and sure, and effectual for the highest and holiest ends of our nature? And shall we, educated from our infancy in the knowledge of its truth, and sensible, as we are, that it provides for those needs of our nature which the world cannot supply, and those evils for which the world offers no remedy, shall we — thus educated, thus convinced — turn away from our covenant God, and his everlasting kindness?

God forbid! What shall support us, if this is taken away? The world is about to be destroyed, and even though it were eternal — yet, being mortal, we cannot long enjoy it! Our bodies must be dissolved back into dust — and our immortal, imperishable spirits, what will be their destination at the hour of death? What hopes could we cherish, nay, what dark forebodings might we not feel, were we not supported by God’s own recorded promise, "Though the mountains depart and the hills be removed — yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken nor my covenant of peace be removed — says the LORD, who has compassion on you."