“Do as thou hast said,” (I Chron. xvii, 23).
THE future fulfilment of the promises made over to him in Christ is always a satisfying contemplation to the child of God. These promises are presented to faith and they relate to things spiritual and temporal. Numbers of them concern the Church in general, but, under certain circumstances, God’s people still “obtain promises” which affect them personally. Faith takes up the promise, and turns it over and over, sets it in this light and in that, and the more it learns of its contents and its giver, the more precious does it become. Nothing can prize the promise as faith does, and faith prizes nothing so much as the promise. Yet the strongest faith has its limitations, and this the believer soon learns. He is given to see that the difference between his comprehension of the promise and the actual value of its contents as known by the Lord, is very great, for the Lord’s interpretation of what he has laid up for the soul is always something greater, grander and on a scale more vast than faith at its highest can ever grasp. Indeed, so surprising and unexpected is the sweep of His generosity that both faith and reason are rendered speechless in wonderment. “Do as thou hast said—more I cannot trust myself to say.”
This was how Jacob found it. He would have been profoundly thankful were he to find his fears for the safety of Simeon and Benjamin disappointed, but the Lord had planned not only the preservation of these two, but He went much further—He planned nothing less than the restoration to him of his beloved Joseph. Thus the Lord planned the continued possession of what he feared to lose, and added that which he had long despaired of ever possessing.
Thus, too, did the good women of the anointing find. Their greatest concern was among the least things planned for them by their Lord. The question: “Who shall remove the stone?” was the all absorbing one, but they knew not that He had planned not only to meet this difficulty, but to do something infinitely more precious. He had planned to exchange the temporal and melancholy satisfaction of anointing the Lord’s body for a meeting with their immortal Lord, and through that meeting becoming themselves gloriously immortal.
So too with ourselves when we flee from “the wrath to come” to the “city of refuge” set before us in the Gospel. There we taste of the peace of God, and that is a wonderful experience, but soon we learn that something even more wonderful awaits us in that city. We discover that the protecting walls of our city are laid in eternal love and that in very fact our city is our eternal home. “Lord, thou hast been our dwelling place in generations all.”
And now here is David about to make his greatest discovery of the “grace that faileth never.” David came to the Lord with a plan, but soon found that the Lord’s plan for him not only included his own, but before his wondering eyes, reached down to such depths and stretched abroad to such width that the generosity of it left his spirit breathless. He could only throw himself upon the wide bosom of his Lord’s kindness with holy abandon and whisper, “Do as thou hast said.” I should like to apply these words in four ways, and, under the Lord’s blessing, I hope that we may find each of them useful.
Faith acquiesces in God’s arrangement.
Saving faith exercises itself in various ways on the same Object. There is a receiving, a resting, an eating, a drinking, a hearing, a looking, and an acquiescence of faith, but however faith acts, its object is one. Where the object is right, the faith, however weak, is right; where the object is wrong, the faith, however strong, must be wrong. Now if the object be that which is provided, presented, and authorised by God, the faith that looks to it and acquiesces in the arrangement supported by it, cannot be wrong. As David comes before the Lord, his sin is called to remembrance. We know that his sins were forgiven fully and finally long before this, but the Lord would have him consciously to be in his true and proper place relative to the covenant of grace. Yes, and when we come before the Lord for the last time on earth, we too may expect to have our sins called to remembrance. From that thought we recoil, but the Lord is merciful in such recalling of our sins. He would have us to understand clearly on what terms we enter the kingdom which we are now about to receive for an inheritance. So, our remaining moments on earth may well be darkened with the shame of sins past and yet sins forgiven. Now when sin is thus recalled what are the habitual reactions of living faith? Does not faith speak to the conscience on this wise, “Look to Christ, go to Christ, go to his wounds.” And be sure of this—during these last tense moments, faith will speak with the same voice and give the same direction. There now, see where faith has placed you. Are you not now where God in his loving purpose has already placed both you and your sin—in Christ? Here now is the only position where a sinner may hear of God’s gracious arrangement for him. First, let us attend to what the Lord does not want. He does not want our plans, works, expectations, hopes or fruits as these are of ourselves. Very kindly he tells us that he is pleased to find these in our motives, but so far as His gracious arrangements for us is concerned, these do not enter, and so He goes on to speak of other things—His plan for us. This plan of His is founded in grace, sustained by grace, and completed by grace. He speaks of a kingdom which has no end, and of our participation in it, and he tells us that all that has already transpired in our lives—His calling, His lifting, His bearing, His preservation of us, have all been towards this end—our reception into that kingdom. He shows that He has been beforehand with a covenant-working arrangement by which a place has been prepared for us, and that our entry into that place has determined all his actions within our lot. Again I insist, you are not to utter one word about desert, merit, demerit, fruit or profit; no, not one word. Your duty is to listen and to acquiesce in this wonderful plan of grace. Now it is clear, why He lovingly and graciously approached you. “Blessed is the man whom thou maketh to approach to thee, that he may be a dweller within thy courts.” That was one great end of your justification, adoption and sanctification: that you should be a dweller in His courts. Independent of you, here is love working for you. Here for you who shelter in the wounds of Christ, the Father has placed in these same wounds an everlasting kingdom. None can possess it but you only. Here are a few of the marvellous assurances grace bespeaks into your waiting ears: “Fear not little flock, it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom; I have appointed you a kingdom; accepted in the beloved; blessing us with spiritual blessings in heavenly places in Christ Jesus; receiving the end of your faith, the salvation of your souls.” Well now, what has faith to say to all this? Surely in circumstances weighted down with such love and grace, faith cannot be too straight or too simple in expressing itself. What answer has your faith to this arrangement? Do you not find it speaking on this wise: “Since thou dost not speak of human merit, human plans, human purposes, but only of my sin and of thy grand and glorious and gracious arrangement by which it is put away forever, and of blessing me for evermore, what can I say Lord? Do as thou hast said. Most heartily, most gratefully, do I acquiesce. What can David say more?” Indeed, “What more?” For the honouring of the promises of God, no more is necessary. We must not forget either that the Lord’s promise to David covered his descendants, and that his acquiescence stretched to the disposal of their lot by the Lord. “Leave thy fatherless children, I will preserve them. Do as thou hast said.”
A recognition of the method of grace.
“His grace faileth never.” With understanding and sincerity, so sang David, and “following afar off,” so sing all the children of God. It is a question, however, whether we understand this grace to the utmost when we so sing. It is also a question whether or not this more complete knowledge of grace is reserved for our final transaction with God in time. I think that the best of us must confess to a conflict within us between salvation by the Gospel and salvation by “works.” Is it not true that “works” are wedded to our nature as surely as the Gospel is wedded to grace? Referring to this conflict, one man speaking to the “question,” put the matter this way: This conflict between salvation by works and salvation by grace, is like that between a poor man who is married to a proud wife. She will never let herself or others believe in her man’s poverty. Grace shows the man that he has nothing to “pay with” and that he is living on the bounty of a loving Father, but his wife will have none of this. By her, the bounty is spoken of as her husband’s earnings, and she strongly asserts that he is in debt to no one. Against this false position, her husband strongly protests. “I spent all I ever had in a far country, no man gave unto me, my Father found me clothed only in shame and guilt and there is not one thread on my back but is of His generous providing.” So the conflict within goes on, and the frequent assertion, “His grace faileth never,” is no more than the witness of grace to the true state of affairs in the salvation of the soul. As David came before the Lord, his plans broken and his sin recalled, he must have felt his need of God’s gracious providing as never before. And yet I feel that never before did he see himself so unworthy of the least of his mercies. It was in this state that his wondering eyes saw God’s purposes for him brighten out to the fullness of a sun that would not go down, and now as never before could he sing of grace that faileth never. “Faileth never“—surely with the very glory of God did these words now flow into the deep places of his adoring soul. And we too sang of the grace which brought us the hope of a kingdom, but it is one thing to hope for a kingdom, and another thing actually to receive it. During the days of our profession in the world, we were enabled by the Lord to do a number of little things for his kingdom and people, but with our eternity hastening to meet us, we now think very much more of the large number of things we have left undone. And how very imperfect now do the few things done by us appear. Back to do, to undo, or to do over again, we cannot go, and in this state of mind does Providence lay us before the open door of our eternity. It is thus, with a devastating sense of our own emptiness that we lie down to hear God’s final word for us on earth. He speaks, and He does not speak of Hell, nor of that outer darkness reserved for the unprofitable, nor of closed doors, nor of hopes soon to be disappointed. No, but with open face, He speaks of a kingdom of light and of our abundant entrance into it. Our emptiness he fills with all the fullness of His Son’s Saviourhood and then proceeds towards us with assurance upon assurance of gifts of grace ready to be poured into our eternal lot. Here indeed is grace failing never, which we may now term as grace succeeding ever. Now what do you say to this method of grace—the bestowal of the greatest when you know quite well that you are utterly undeserving of the least? “Why, why deal with me in this astonishing way? Surely it was indeed a true thing I heard that grace faileth never, but I now know that the half had not been told me. In truth thy grace faileth never: Do as thou hast said and I stand blessed for evermore.”
Faith in harmony with God’s will.
“Do as thou hast said.” Here there is submission and more—there is harmony with the will of God. Harmony with the will of God is not a primary concern of the seeking soul at the beginning of Christian experience, as the present urgency of finding life in Christ is too pressing to admit of any other consideration. Things are not left long this way, however, for the fleeing to Christ is changed to such an enthusiastic embracing of Him as extends to His sovereignty over all that we are and all that we possess. The sovereignty which pardons our sins forbids our return to these same sins, and then proceeds to go much further: It commands us to leave all for Christ; if need be to leave father and mother; to take up His cross and to deny ourselves; and it even demands our walking in a way which we know must bring the hate of men upon us. Without any consultation of our wishes, it claims the right to cut and carve our lot as it sees fit, and that without explanation or apology. It calls for blind obedience and loving co-operation in its work of making, or wrecking, our most cherished plans and hopes. Almost as soon as he had announced them David found his plans broken by the Lord. He also found his life shortened so that he could not do the good he thought to do, and again it was the Lord in His Sovereignty who, by His mighty hand, crossed and cancelled his expectations. What would be his reactions to these disturbing elements in his lot were David a natural man? Well, I think that the natural man would regard this manifestation of the Divine will in his province, as arbitrary and interfering, and would rebel. The reaction of grace would be quite different. “Do as thou hast said.” It is when we see that the same Sovereignty as withdraws, prohibits or denies this or that to us, proceeds to the bestowal of things infinitely greater and better, that faith achieves its greatest harmony with the will of God. “My plans I cast aside though I loved them dearly, Thine I embrace, do as thou hast said.” Thus, through a view of God’s loving generosity, we see into His heart, and there we find His will. We find it not only holy and just, but profoundly good in its every intention towards us, and we seek to embrace it. Resignation turns to loving submission, which in turn becomes a harmonious merging of our wills with His. Rebellion and complaint wither under a love that plans and provides on a scale so lavish. With sweet resignation the soul relinquishes its own will, settles deep down in the promise, turns over, kisses, and loses itself in the good will of the Lord. “Do as thou hast said. Thy will be done on earth as it is done in Heaven.” What a salvation is this, that brings a rebellious sinner so very near the heart of God, holy, just, and good.
Now, in conclusion, let us look at these words as expressing a happy solution to a difficult problem. In Christian experience the question of an adequate thanksgiving to the Lord must always remain unanswered. This was David’s difficulty when he asked: “What shall I render to the Lord for all his benefits to me?” He calls on sun, moon, stars, young men, maidens and angels to help Him pay His debt of praise; and His plan to build a temple for the Lord was just one more unsuccessful effort in this direction. David is not alone in asking this question. It is a question commonly asked by each member of the Lord’s family, and it is a question that becomes more acute as efforts in any direction are made to answer it. The debt to grace can never be paid, but grace is not without its memorial, however, but it is a memorial strange to man’s way of thinking. “What shall I render to the Lord? I will build a temple to the Lord.” “No,” says the Lord, “it was good it was in thy heart, but my only true and lasting memorial is that which I myself work for you. No temple you may build will show forth my glory and beauty as the simple record of my work in you and for you found in the 51st Psalm.” God is making an everlasting name for Himself, not so much by us as through us. The blood of His Son sprinkled on us; the peace of God within us; the new heart with its cleansing from spot and healing from wrinkle; the eternal life in the mansion above and our abundant entrance into it, are the true memorials of the exceeding grace of God’s planning for us. We, ourselves, as sinners saved by grace, are in ourselves, through grace, the everlasting memorials to the riches of His grace, the plenitude of His mercy, and the reactions of His almighty love to our lost state. This was the solution proposed to David. Are you willing to make your debt an everlasting memorial to free grace? There in glory you may draw on saints without number, and on angels in their hosts to assist your praise, yet their praise of thy Saviour will only deepen thy debt to Him. Are they not all of Him and by Him? What say you to this solution? Eternally you are to be nothing but what He shall make you; eternally you are to possess nothing but what He shall give you, so that each succeeding circle of eternal ages shall see you deeper and still deeper in His debt. The deeper your debt to His love and grace, the higher is your memorial raised to His glory. Does this purpose for your Lord’s glory meet with your approval? Surely it is so, “Do as thou hast said, take the depths of my debt and raise thou them to the height of thy glory.”—Penuel.