“Lo, I am with you alway.” By Rev. Hugh Martin, D.D., Edinburgh. (Continued from page 176.)
ART thou weeping bitterly for thy miserable fall—thy base denial of thy Lord? Or art thou gone back in dull despondency to thy nets again? (John xxi. 3). Thy first love forsaken, thy steadfastness mournfully fallen from, scarcely dost thou dare to hope for liberty of heart to say again with truth, “I love the Lord?” Hast thou ceased to feel thy wonted interest in His cause and kingdom? Is this thy heart relapsed to thy worldly cares and worldly interests, and centred chiefly now on them? Ah! and art thou toiling at thy task and finding nothing; spending money for what is not bread, and labour for that which satisfieth not? Yea; and having tasted truer joys, how canst thou ever again on Galilee’s shores find happiness without the Lord and His love? Well; be it that in the sad wreck that has occurred, no sign of love in thy heart to Jesus now remains; and conscious of the past and all its sin, thou art ashamed to whisper even to thyself, “I love the Lord.” That miserable fall stifles even the question, Do I love the Lord or no?
Be it so. Questioning thine own heart may bring no response of grace. But the Lord Himself draweth near to ask. Behold He cometh after thee. He findeth thee at thy weary task. He takes thee as He finds thee—weary, toiling, restless, dissatisfied; making nothing of it; no candle of the Lord shining on thy head; no joy of the Lord thy strength. Just as thou art He taketh thee in hand to deal with thee again. And He cometh, the same as ever; the same gracious Lord, unchanged, the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever. Behold! He calleth thee by name: “Simon, son of Jonas!”
Look up into His face, and read whether He has come in wrath or love. That face!—burning tears ran down there for sinners; sinners such as thou art; for the very chief of sinners; for “Jerusalem sinners;” for men that hated Him, and spit on Him, and scourged Him, and slew Him, and sealed and watched His grave, that He might be buried out of sight and out of mind—that they might be troubled with Him no more for ever. Great drops of blood, too, flowed down there, down to the ground, where He lay in weakness, with supplications, and strong crying, and tears, bearing the guilt of sinners whom He loved. The heart-melting look of grief, rebuke, astonishment, unquenchable affection, shone there, and melted the heart of Him that denied Him. Look up into that face of Jesus, the same yesterday, to day, and for ever; the same to thee as to Simon Peter on the shore of Galilee’s lake. He is returned from the cross of woe; He is returned from the cold embraces of the grave. He is the heir, too, of all things; He is the Lord of Glory.
From His grave He has come, and from His glory He is tarrying, to seek and find thee; to say, “Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me?”
By His very voice to Peter—a voice not yet dead; living and abiding for ever; living in the power of the Spirit; living on the page of the blessed biography; with you alway to the end of the world; thus truly, lovingly, with present power and love;—seeking thy love, yearning for it, ready to be gratified by it, ready to rejoice in it, very gracious and ready to own thy sincerity, readier far than thou art thyself;—thus does Jesus say unto thee, even now, “Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me?”
Questioning thyself could bring out no clear response. But shall Jesus fare no better when He takes up the question? In the absence of thy loving Lord, it may be thou couldst not firmly, clearly, distinctly, with any consciousness of truth, assert “I love the Lord.” To thine own inquiry—to a fellow-creature’s question—it may be thou art wisely silent. Doubts and hesitations, strengthened greatly by thy fall, oppress thee. And for the very truth’s sake thou mayest refuse to answer the question even as thou wouldst desire to do.
But hark to the gracious words that proceed from His mouth. It is love’s own question. And love itself—infinite and incarnate; a consuming fire as of the Godhead’s glory, yet a gentle flame, as in a brother’s bosom—is dealing with thee, anxious for thy love, wooing thy love. Shall it not win thy love?
Ah! doth not that love of His to thee, which His very question proves; which hath anticipated and been beforehand with thy love; which says, “Ye have not chosen me, but I have chosen you;” that love of which Paul has said, “The love of Christ constraineth us;” and John has said, “We love Him because He first loved us;” doth not such love of His to thee enable, decide, constrain thee to answer as between the omniscient Saviour and thine own moved and melted heart—thy heart broken open, won over, gained for ever; “Lord, thou knowest all things; thou knowest that I love thee?”
Parent! anxious for the little ones whom God has graciously given to thee. Dost thou not know to whom to bring them? Or sayest thou, O that I knew where I might find Him? Lo! Jesus is with us always, even as in the days of His flesh. Realize Him, by faith, as with you still, exactly as in His blessed record (Mark x. 13-16). Bring these little ones to Him. And as you bring them, does He not defend you against all, even disciples, if they rebuke you? Does He not take your children in His arms, put His hands upon them, and bless them?
Sister! weeping thy brother gone. Come to the grave of Lazarus. Jesus is there. Jesus is here as He was there; at thy brother’s grave: Jesus, the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever. “Thy brother,” he tells thee, “shall rise again” (John xi.).
Gentle one! covetous to learn the words of Jesus; to hear His voice; to learn of Him who is meek and lowly. Come thou to Bethany, and sit with Mary at His feet. For, lo! He is here as there, alway, even to the end of the world (Luke x. 38-42).
Blind one! sitting by the wayside, not seeing thy signs, not seeing thy path. Hark! “Lo, I am with you alway.” And hark! again, “Jesus of Nazareth passeth by.” Brother, it is no figure of speech; no pious fancy; no sacred dream; no accommodation of Scripture; no spiritualising device. It is true. Jesus passeth by. Seize thine opportunity. “Son of David, have mercy on me.” Rise, then, for He calleth thee. Hear His gracious question: “What wilt thou that I should do unto thee?” Canst thou not reply: “Lord, that I may receive my sight. Open mine eyes that I may behold wonders out of thy law?” And, “The Lord giveth sight unto the blind, and raises up the bowed down.”
Art thou coming to the table of the Lord, covetous to be a guest of the King of glory? Wouldst thou really sup with Him; not in a figure, but in very truth; as truly as the eleven on that night on which He was betrayed?—so that it shall in truth be said concerning you, “They have been with Jesus;” also, “They have seen God, and did eat and drink with Him.” Is this at any time our marvellous ambition and desire? Oh, give me the Biography and Presence of the King. Give me the blessed words: “And He took bread, and gave thanks, and brake it, and gave unto them, saying, This is my body, which is given for you. Likewise also the cup after supper, saying, This cup is the new testament in my blood, which is shed for you.” And give me in conjunction with this, the promise, “Lo! I am with you alway.” Let me truly, and in faith, conjoin these words and that presence. Let the words be instinct with the presence; and let the presence, and its intended aspect or action towards me at the table, find expression in the words: And oh! have I not my Lord Himself giving me, from His own hand, His body and His blood—even till He come again—when I shall see Him as He is?
Art thou oftentimes weary in a weary world; weary of thy body of sin and death; weary of thy manifold infirmities; weary of thy little progress; forced to look now for thy only satisfaction to the heavenly rest that remaineth? Oh! the blessedness of having in the meantime the presence and biography of your Lord. Come oftentimes, when weary, and troubled, and lonely in spirit; come and meet the Lord even now in these galleries, where the King still goeth with His followers. And as faith casteth out the element of time since His first coming, let it cast out also the interval until His second. “Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father’s house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am there ye may be also.” Let faith destroy that interval. Let faith make no account of it, rising above its separating influence; rising above time and space, and asserting its high prerogative to see things that are unseen—to embrace already the future and eternal. Let faith hear Jesus saying: “Behold! I come quickly.” And let faith and hope reply: “Amen. Even so, come, Lord Jesus.”
Until then, there is the promise: “Lo! I AM WITH YOU alway, even to the end of the world.” After that there is this hope: “So shall we be for ever WITH THE LORD.”