EXTRACT from Richard Sibbes.
Sometimes, indeed, I am amazed at the joy of sinners, while those who have the truest cause of exultation rather are too sad. Yea, I wonder that, on due consideration, joy of soul bursts not my mortal frame. Though I should never think highly of myself, yet I should never think lowly or meanly of the manifestations of the love and favour of God. What shall I, then, think of this quiet of mind, this peace of God that passes understanding, pouring into my soul, and giving me the life of a prince, while one would be ready to conclude that I lived like a prisoner? What of this dwelling under the smile of Heaven? this joy that I have in believing? these transforming glances of glory, which give a sweet antepast of the fruition to come, and make me long for the day of communion? What of my daily allowance from the table of the King, yea, sometimes my being allowed to eat at the King’s table of the hidden manna, and bread of life, and to behold His glory with the eye of faith.
Surely, then, I ought to sing and rejoice; for as the sorrow of the world worketh death, so the joy that is spiritual tendeth to life. God remembers both the place and time where He lets out His love to His people; hence says He to Jacob, “I am the God of Bethel”; and of Jacob to his posterity, “He found Him in Bethel, and there He spake with us, even the Lord God of hosts, the Lord is his memorial.” “I remember thee, the kindness of thy youth, the love of thine espousals.” Dare I, then, despise the day of small things, or forget what God may be pleased to remember? And if I look but a little further to the end of my life, which is perhaps nearer than I think of, what a flood of glory waits to replenish my enlarged soul, when sin and imperfection shall be put off, and perfection put on? Should not such a happy change, secured to me by the faithfulness of Him who cannot lie, but who rests in His love, cause a continual joy in my soul? I daily see sinners, whose life is one scene of joviality, one round of mirth, and yet they know not on what account they are so cheerful; and why should I be sad, who have the truest cause of purest joy? Neither should the outward troubles of time disquiet me, more than a king, riding in his coach of state, attended with his guards, should take it ill that dust should fly round him, or a gentle shower fall on him, when screened from both; so I am safe in the promise; yea, I ride in the chariot of my Beloved with greater security, and statelier port, than crowned heads could ever boast of.
Hasten your flight, ye envious days, that I may see Him whom I love, for whom I long, on whom I have fixed my affection, and with whom my soul dwells by faith. Now will I joy in Thee with joy superior to theirs that divide the spoil; and wait for the day when I shall be allowed to bring to the throne of Thy glory, the tribute of praise for all Thy mercies to me, and among the rest for this true substantial joy.