3539. Fine Pleading

A Sermon Published On Thursday, November 23, 1916.

Remember me, oh Lord, with the favour that you have towards your people; oh visit me with your salvation. {Ps 106:4}

For other sermons on this text:

   {See Spurgeon_Sermons No. 1454, “Poor Man’s Prayer, The” 1448}

   {See Spurgeon_Sermons No. 2599, “Visit From the Lord, A” 2600}

   {See Spurgeon_Sermons No. 3539, “Fine Pleading” 3541}

   Exposition on Ps 106 {See Spurgeon_Sermons No. 2599, “Visit From the Lord, A” 2600 @@ "Exposition"}

   Exposition on Ps 106 {See Spurgeon_Sermons No. 2842, “Sower, The” 2843 @@ "Exposition"}

   Exposition on Ps 106 {See Spurgeon_Sermons No. 3193, “Man Whose Hand Stuck to His Sword, The” 3194 @@ "Exposition"}

   Exposition on Ps 106 {See Spurgeon_Sermons No. 3504, “Following Christ” 3506 @@ "Exposition"}

1. How gracious a thing it is on God’s part to make prayers for us! He puts them into our mouths. No one needs to say, “I cannot pray because I am unable to compose a sentence.” Here is a prayer already composed, which would be suitable for the lip of anyone present here—high or low, rich or poor, saint or sinner. And it is an even greater mercy that the God who gives us the form of prayer waits to give us the spirit of prayer, “for the Holy Spirit helps our infirmities.” Whereas we do not know what we should pray for, as we ought, he “makes intercession for the saints according to the will of God.” When he gives you the prayer, and gives you the power to pray it, what a sweet blessing! But that is not all; for when the prayer is properly presented on earth, there waits one above, quick of ear and ready of plea, who takes the supplication, presents it before his Father’s throne, perfected by his wisdom, and perfumed by his merit; and then the Father smiles, and the prayer is answered with abundant blessing.

2. My prayer tonight is that many present here may take the words of our text and have them laid on their souls like burning coals, and that then the smoking incense of holy prayer may go up to heaven, and the Lord may smell in it, through Jesus Christ, a sweet savour of rest.

3. We shall regard our text tonight in three lights—first, as a suitable prayer for every Christian; secondly, as a very fitting petition for distressed souls—I mean Christians who are desponding and have lost their evidences; and, thirdly, as a very suitable cry for an awakened, seeking sinner.

4. I. My dear brethren in the faith, will you join me, then, under the first point, while we consider:—HOW SUITABLE THIS PRAYER IS FOR EACH OF US WHO ARE IN CHRIST JESUS.

5. You will observe that he who prays here asks for no exceptional favour. He says, “Remember me with the favour that you have towards your people.” It is not an ambitious prayer that asks to be distinguished beyond the rest of the beloved family. It is not a discontented prayer that seeks to have some special blessing which shall be denied to the rest of the Christian brotherhood. It is a prayer for blessings common to all the saints. “Remember me with the favour which you have towards your people.” And this is a lesson for us in our prayers. For example, nature suggests to me that I should pray to be saved from all bodily pain; but that is not a favour which God has towards his people. Many of his people here endure even excruciating pain—some in the pangs of martyrdom, and others through his laying his hand on them in natural sickness. He never intended to keep his people from pain. He had a Son without sin, but he never had a Son without suffering. The perfected One, the Firstborn, must have hands and feet pierced, and every nerve must become the means of fresh agony to him. I dare not, therefore, pray, “Lord, keep me from all physical pain.” Why should I ask to have what he has not given to the rest of his people? No, if there is a cup on the table that tastes of the bitter, and he intends it for the sons, let me have my share, and his love with it.

6. So, too, I have no right to ask God to preserve me in riches, or in a comfortable position, or to keep me from poverty. I may ask this, but it must always he with complete submission to the divine will; for who am I that I should not be poor? Better ones by far than I have been poor—much poorer than I am likely to be. Why am I to expect to go to heaven by a smooth, grassy road, while others have had to tread the flints that cut their feet?

   Must I be carried to the skies,

      On flowery beds of ease,

   While others fought to win the prize,

      And sailed through bloody seas?

To desire to escape from every form of trial is natural for us, but it is not a dictate of grace that we should turn it into prayer. No; be content with the common lot of God’s people. “Shall the disciple be above his Master? Shall the servant be above his Lord?” Let this satisfy you, “Father, whether healthy or sick, whether rich or poor, whether honoured or despised, extend to me the favour which you have towards your people; and my largest desires can ask no more.”

7. But please observe, next, that while this prayer asks for nothing more than the common blessing, it also is content with nothing less,

   Extend to me that favour, Lord,

   Thou to thy people dost afford.

It is the same favour that is extended to them that is asked for; for, brethren, anything short of this will not serve our purpose. I would desire, and I know you do, my brethren, to have that favour from God which is eternal—that favour which has no beginning—that everlasting favour which was in the divine mind even before the earth was. You also need to have immutable favour, the favour that never changes. Though we change, yet it remains the same. What would you do if the favour of God were changeable? Of what avail would his love be, if that love could come and go—could sometimes give, and then again could take itself away? You need immutable favour. And I know you need boundless favour, for your needs are unlimited. You need the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge; you need it in all its heights and all its depths; you need the very heart of God; you need his heart of compassion; you need a Saviour to be one with you, and yourself to be one with him. You would not like to be put off with a crown; you would not like to be put off with an empire, or with all that earth calls good and great. You need no more, but you need no less than such favour as the Lord extends towards those whom he loves, who are the objects of his sacred choice. No more. No less.

8. You must note, next, in the prayer what is particularly to be observed—that he who is praying in this case asks for blessings on the same basis as the rest of the saints. You will observe that it is on the basis of grace. He asks that he may have the favour which God has towards his people. “Favour.” If there is a person saved who has been a great offender against God’s law, immoral, debauched, and depraved, it must be by favour. And, dear Christian friend, whoever you may be, there is no other way in which you can be saved; and you know it. When the Lord extends the blessings of the covenant to gross sinners, it is clear that they are given to them simply because he will have mercy on whom he will have mercy. But to you, also, the favour comes in precisely the same way. I am sure you dare not ask God to deal with you on the basis of merit, for what were your merits, oh you saints—what were your merits, but to merit the eternal flames? You ask the Lord that he would extend to you, not the dealings of his justice, but that he would remember you with the compassions of his grace. Is there any professed Christian here who refuses to stand on such terms as these, and come to God and ask for favour—for gratuitous mercy? Then, friend, you are no child of God. Whatever else the children differ in, they never disagree in this—that “salvation is from the Lord,” and is by grace, and by grace alone. Your spot is not “the spot of his children,” unless you look at even the bread you eat and the clothing you wear as the gift of divine charity, and unless you found all your hope for pardon of sin, and for acceptance at the last, entirely on the free, undeserved, spontaneous favour of the Lord your God.

9. Well then, you see, what we ask for is what he gives to all his people—no more, no less; and we ask for that, not as our due, but as a favour—a favour for which we will bless him in life, and bless him in death, if he will only remember to grant it to us.

10. Still looking at our text as the Christian’s prayer, I would observe that he wishes, according to the text, that the same results may follow as in the case of all God’s people, for he adds, “Visit me with your salvation” Beloved, God’s favour ends in salvation; and that word “salvation” is a very extensive term. If you read the psalm you will see that the psalmist evidently uses it, first, in the sense of deliverance. The children of Israel came to the Red Sea, and they were afraid that there they should be destroyed; but God led them through the depths as through the wilderness. Well then, when I pray this prayer, “Oh Lord, remember me with the favour that you have towards your people,” I mean this: “When I come into any trouble, I ask you to help me to go through it. Just as you made a way through the sea for your people of old, so make a way for me.” Oh! how often does God do this for us! When it seems as if the obstacles were almost insurmountable—when our wit seems to have failed us, and we can do no more—we have been ready to say, “Alas! Master, what shall we do?” Then our extremity has been the divine opportunity, and through the depths of the sea he has led his rejoicing people.

11. Then the word salvation is meant in the psalm evidently to include the forgiveness of sins; for you remember, as we read the Psalm, how the sins of Israel were mentioned over and over again. But it is added, “Nevertheless, when they cried to him, he heard their prayers.” So if I use this prayer, I am to mean just this, “Lord, you are accustomed to forgive your people. Forgive me. You blot out their sins like a cloud. Blot out mine. Moreover, you help your children to overcome their sins. Help me; sanctify me, spirit, soul, and body. You preserve your people in temptation, and bring them out of it. Gracious Shepherd, keep me as one of your flock. You save your children in the hour of great peril, and as their day so is their strength. Oh! infinite Preserver of your beloved, cover me with your feathers, and under your wings permit me to trust. Let your truth be my shield and buckler!”

12. I think it is a very, very sweet prayer. “Visit me with your salvation when I am on my bed, tossing to and fro, and raise me up if it is your will. Visit me when I am slandered, and my name is cast out as evil, and cheer your servant’s heart. Visit me when I am in the deep waters and the depths overflow me—when I sink in deep mire where there is no standing. Come and prove your saving might. Visit me when I come to die. When the chilly floods of the last river are around me, visit me with your salvation. Then deal with me as you have dealt with your saints whenever they have passed through the valley of the shadow of death. May your rod and your staff comfort me. Visit me with your salvation.” I suggest, Christian brethren, that this prayer will do for you living, and will do for you dying. It is a suitable prayer for the morning and for the evening, for the young and for the old, for days of joy and days of distress. Blessed prayer, let it be often on your lips!

13. We will make only one more remark on it in reference to the Christian. You observe that, all through it is a personal prayer. Our prayers must not always be personal. Our Saviour has taught us not to say, “My Father,” but “Our Father who is in heaven.” Yet, for all that, he who never prays for himself in the singular ever prayed properly for others in the plural. If you have never said, “Lord, remember me,” you have not gone so far as the thief on the cross. You are not qualified at all to go as far as Abraham on the plains of Mamre, when he interceded for others. He who has the largest heart must see to it that his own personal salvation is secure. So, dear friend, professing Christian, let me ask you to take the prayer in the first person singular, and say, “Lord, remember me with the favour which you have towards your chosen.” I pray it. If you call me, Lord, to minister to this great people, as my day is, so may my strength be. As you have dealt with your other servants in a similar position, deal so with me. Elders and deacons, with all your responsibilities, pray that the God of Stephen and the God of Philip will be with you, and extend to you the favour which he gave to elders and deacons of old. Mothers, fathers, ask for the grace that he gives to Christian parents. Children, servants, ask for the grace that he has been accustomed to give to those in your position. You who are rich, pray often that you may not miss the divine favour, for these things are often dangerous. You who are poor, pray that you may have this to sweeten everything—to make your little to be enough. You who are in health, pray this, lest the vigour of your body be the weakness of your soul. And you on whose cheek there is the hectic flush of consumption—you who are weak and near departure—you already have your death song ready. Here it is: “Lord, remember me! Remember me, oh Lord, with the favour which you have towards your people: oh visit me with your salvation.” I leave that prayer with every Christian heart here, and ask that it may be inscribed there by the Holy Spirit.

14. II. This prayer is also:—A FITTING PRAYER FOR DEPRESSED, DESPONDING SOULS.

15. They are God’s people, and now we give to them this prayer, and we trust that as they pray it they may have “the oil of joy given them for mourning, and the garment of praise, instead of the spirit of heaviness.” I ask them to look very briefly, but with all their eyes, at this prayer. You will notice that here is a case in which a good man may seem to be forgotten. It is a good man who wrote this Psalm—an inspired man, and yet he says, “Remember me, oh Lord.” Did he think himself forgotten? He feared he was. There have been others of God’s saints who have endured this fear. Yes, a whole church has sometimes laboured under it. Zion said “My God has forsaken me. My God has forgotten me.” So you may be, as you think, forgotten, and yet you may be very dear to God—as dear as you ever were.

16. Notice, next, that when you, child of God, come into this condition, the very best prayer you can pray is a sinner’s prayer. Why do I call this a sinner’s prayer? Why, because it so reminds me of the dying thief. “Lord, remember me,” was such a suitable prayer for him. Oh! child of God, if you doubt your own salvation, do not dispute about it, but go as a sinner; use a sinner’s prayer; begin where the dying thief began, with, “Lord, remember me.” I would commend to every Christian who is in the dark, and has lost his evidences, to go at once by the old track that sinners have trodden for so long. “I will go to Jesus, though my sin rises like a mountain. I know his courts; I will enter in.” Go to him. Go even now.

17. And you will observe, too, that for a desponding soul it is good to remember that everything it can obtain in the future by God must be by favour. “Remember me, oh Lord, with the favour.” I dwelt on this when speaking to the child of God in the light; but it is even more important that we should dwell on this when speaking to the child of God in the dark, for the danger happens when you are desponding to begin to be legal. Your own conscience and Satan together will be instigating you to use legal methods to get comfort. They are all fruitless. Go on the track of grace. Free grace is what you need, and nothing else will suit you. Cry, “Lord, remember me with your favour. Give me what you could not give me as a mere matter of justice! Deal with me as you could not deal with me if you saw me in myself as guilty before you! Deal favourably with your servant. Have a favour towards me, for only this can restore me.”

18. And then, next, it is good for a person who is in distress to remember that God’s favour towards his own people does not change, for evidently this good man, though he asked God to remember him, did not have any doubt whatever that God had a favour towards his own people. There is nothing like being sound in doctrine to help you towards comfort. If a man shall doubt the perseverance of the saints, and believe that God will cast away his people, I really do not see what he has to do when he is brought into distress of mind. But if he still holds to this, “Truly the Lord is good to Israel—to such as are of a clean heart. As for me, he may have forgotten me. I fear I am not one of his; but I know he would not forget his own”—why, then the fact of the immutability of God towards his people becomes, as it were, an argument; and we come before the Lord with a better heart and greater hope, and say, “Lord, since you never change towards them, introduce me into their number, and let your eternal love pour out itself on my poor, broken, disconsolate spirit. Remember me—poor, fallen, backsliding me—with the favour, the free grace, which you have towards your people.” It is good to hold to truth, for it may serve us like an anchorage on the day of storm.

19. Once again, let me speak to the depressed, and remind them that the prayer is instructive, for it shows that all that is needed for a forsaken, forgotten spirit is that God should visit it again. “Remember me, oh Lord. Anyone else’s remembering can do me no good, but if you only give one thought towards your servant, it is all done. Lord, I have been visited by the pastor, and he tried to cheer me. I have had a visit in the preaching of the gospel in the morning and the evening of your day. I went to your table, and I did not get encouragement there. But, Lord, please visit me!” A visit from Christ is the cure for all spiritual diseases. I have frequently reminded you of that in the address to the Church at Laodicea. The Church at Laodicea was neither cold nor hot, and Christ said that he would spue it out of his mouth; but do you know how he speaks of it as if he would cure it? “Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If any man hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and dine with him, and he with me.” That is not an address to sinners. It is sometimes used like this, but it is torn out of its context. It is evidently an address to a church of God, or a child of God, who has lost the presence and the light of God’s countenance. All you need is a visit from Christ. All you need is that once again your communion should be restored; and I do bless the Lord that he can do that suddenly, in a moment! He can make your soul, “even before it is aware, like the chariots of Amminadib.” You may have come here tonight about as dead in soul as you could be, but the flashes of eternal life can reach you, and kindle a soul within, within the ribs of your old dead nature once again. You may have felt as if it was all over, and the last spark of grace had gone out; but when the Lord visits his people, he makes the wilderness and the solitary place to rejoice, and the desert to blossom as the rose. I pray it may be such a happy hour for you that the prayer may be fulfilled, “Visit me with your salvation.” I have great sympathy with those who are cast down. May God, who is the comfort of those who are cast down, comfort you! May he bring you out who are bound with chains; and you solitary ones, may he put you in families! And I do not know a wiser method for you to pursue than incessantly to cry to him; and let this be the prayer, “Remember me—me—with the favour which you have towards your people: oh visit me with your salvation.”

20. III. And now for our last point. This is:—A VERY PROPER PRAYER FOR THE AWAKENED, BUT UNFORGIVEN SINNER.

21. There are some in this house of that character. I know there are unforgiven sinners here. I only hope that some of them are awakened to know the danger of their state. If they are, may God help them to pray this prayer, because, first, it is a humble prayer. “Lord, remember me”—as much as to say, “Lord, give one thought towards me. I am a poor miserable sinner. I am not worth much thought, but, Lord, at least remember me. Do not pass me, oh healer of sin-sick souls. Do not pass me by. Hear my cry; answer my anguish; regard the desires of my soul. Remember me!”

22. It is an earnest prayer too. No doubt it was earnest since this inspired man prayed it. It breathes life as you read it. Oh! dear heart, if you want a Saviour, be in earnest for him. If you can take “no” for an answer, you shall have “no” for an answer, but if it comes to this, “Give me Christ, or else I die!—I must have mercy”—you shall have it. When you will have it, you shall have it. When God stirs you up to agonize for a blessing, the blessing shall not delay.

23. Notice that this prayer, which I can recommend to you, is not only humble and earnest, but it is a prayer directed in the right way. It is to God alone. “Remember me, oh Lord. Visit me, oh Lord, with your salvation.” All our help lies there. There is none here. There is none in any man. No priest can help you—no friend nor minister. When you appeal to us we might say what the king of Israel said to the woman in Samaria, when it was tightly besieged, “If the Lord does not help you, how shall I help you? Out of the wine-press, or from the barn-floor?” There is nothing we can do. “Vain is the help of man!” Turn your eye to God alone—to the cross where Christ suffered. Look there, and only there, and may this be your prayer, “Lord, remember me!” When the thief was dying, he did not say, “John, pray for me.” John was there. He did not look at the mother of Christ and say, “Holy Virgin, pray for me.” He might have said it. He did not turn to any of the disciples, or the holy company who were around the cross. He knew which way to look; and, turning his dying eye to him who suffered on the centre cross, he had no prayer but this, “Lord, remember me.” It is all you need. Pray to God, and God alone, for only from him must mercy come to you.

24. Observe, again, oh sinner, if you would use this prayer, that it is a personal prayer for you. “Lord, remember me.” Oh! if we could get men to think of themselves, half the battle would be over. Who are you? Who are you? I would put this prayer into your mouth, whoever you may be, “Lord, I have been a Sabbath-breaker today. All the early part of it was spent as it ought not to be; but, Lord, remember me.” “Oh God, I have been a drunkard. I have broken all the laws of sobriety—have even blasphemed your name; but Lord, remember me.” Is there one here into whose mouth I might put such words as these, “Lord, I stand trembling before you, for I am a woman who is a sinner. Lord, remember me. Call on me with the favour that you have towards your people. Just as you looked on the woman of Samaria, so look on me?” Is there one here that has been a thief—almost ashamed to have the word mentioned, lest those who sit near should look at you? Well, this is particularly the thief’s prayer, “Lord, remember me.” How I wish I could come around now! I should not know who you were, but, oh! if I could, I would put this right into your heart, “Lord, remember me.” Up in the back gallery, where you can hardly hear, and cannot see, it is a good place to pray in—a capital place, there hidden away in the corner, to breathe the cry, “Oh God, remember me!”

25. Another thing about this prayer is that it is a gospel prayer. It says, “Remember me with your favour.” Everything a sinner gets must come by favour. It cannot come in other way, for if you get what you deserve, you will get no love, no mercy, no grace. Oh! sinner, come to God on the footing of favour, and say, “For your name’s sake, and for your mercy’s sake, have pity on poor undeserving me.” It is a gospel prayer.

26. Once again, it seems to me to be an argumentative prayer. “Where is the argument?” you say. Why, here, “You have had favour towards your people. Lord, have favour towards me.” It is always an argument for a man to do a kindness to you if he has done a kindness to others. We generally say, if we are very poor, “Such a one has been helping poor people like me.” There is a kind of implied argument that he will help you, being in the same case. Can you see it? There are the gates of heaven. Can you bear the lustre of those massive pearls? I do not want you to look at them, however. Do you see them? Do you see them who are streaming through in long ranks? They go through like a mighty river. There are hundreds, there are thousands, there are tens of thousands of them. Who are they? Who are they? All of them are sinners—just such as I am, dear friend—just such as you are. They are all clothed in white now, but their robes were all black once. Ask them, and you will hear them say they washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. Ask every one of them how it is they passed so happily through that pearly gate into the golden-streeted city, and they will all tell you, “with united breath,” that they:—

   Ascribe salvation to the Lamb;

   Redemption to his death.

Oh! I will even creep in that way. Ah! through the sinners’ Saviour I hope to find a passage to the sinners’ heaven, where sinners washed white live for ever. There is an argument in the prayer. I hope you will have skill to use it until you prevail.

27. Once again, I commend this prayer to the awakened sinner because it is a prayer for a helpless soul, for it says, “Oh! visit me with your salvation.” There are patients in London who would be very glad to be received into a hospital. They would be glad if they could be carried tomorrow morning into some one of those noble institutions, to be cared for there. But there are people worse off than they are, for there are some who could not be carried to a hospital, for they would die on the road. If they are ever to be healed at all, their case is so bad that the doctor must come to them. Oh! and that is a sinner’s case too, and some feel it; and hence the prayer, “Visit me with your salvation.” “Here, Lord, I lie before you, so ruined by my sin that I can scarcely turn even an eye to the cross; I am so blind. It is true your grace can save, but my hand is paralysed, and I cannot grasp your grace. It is true your love can penetrate my heart, but, ah! my heart feels so hard, how can your love get into it? Oh Saviour, you must do it all for me, for mine is a desperate case.” Such cases Christ loves. He came to seek and save—not the half-lost, but the lost. Commit your desperate case into his hands, who has saved desperate sinners thousands of times, and will still save them. I pray that before you rest tonight-before you go to your bed, and dare to close your eyes—this may be your heart’s prayer, “Oh Lord, remember me with the favour which you have towards your people. Visit me with your salvation.”

28. I can do no more than leave it in the hands of the Eternal Spirit. May he bless the word, for Christ Jesus’ sake. Amen.

Exposition By C. H. Spurgeon {Ps 116:10-19 So 2:1-7}

The whole Psalm is one of joyful thanksgiving because of God’s mercy to the psalmist. He had been in deep waters of trial and affliction, but had not been allowed to sink. He had known fierce assaults of sin that threatened tearful eyes and falling, stumbling steps, but God had upheld and strengthened. As he recalls all this, he longs to make some return by way of praise, and witness to others. Hence he now enquires.

10, 11. I believed, therefore I have spoken: I was greatly afflicted: I said in my haste, “All men are liars.”

And he came uncommonly near the truth, even though he was in a hurry in saying it, for if you trust in any men they must be liars to you. They will fail you, either from lack of faithfulness, or else from lack of power. There are pinches where the kindest hand cannot help. There are times of sorrow when she who is the partner of your bosom cannot find you alleviation. Then you will have to come to God, and God alone, and you will never find him to fail you. The brooks of the earth are dry in summer, and frozen in winter. All my fresh springs, are in you, my God, and there neither frost nor drought can come. Happy is the man who has gotten right away from everything to his God.

12. What shall I render to the LORD for all his benefits towards me?

Here we see gratitude is springing up in this man’s heart. He lives on God, and he loves God, and now the question comes, “What shall I do for God?” Service is not first. We make a mistake when we begin with that. No: we begin as he did, with “I love the Lord.”

Tell what the Lord has done for you, and then go on to, “What shall I render to the Lord for all his benefits towards me?”

13-15. I will take the cup of salvation, and call on the name of the LORD. I will pay my vows to the LORD now in the presence of all his people. Precious in the sight of the LORD is the death of his saints.

We do well to notice those deaths, for God notices them. They are among his precious things. And if God thinks so much of dying saints, depend on it he will not forget the living ones. He will help us. He will help us to the end.

16. Oh LORD, truly I am your servant; I am your servant, and the son of your handmaid; you have released my bonds.

What a sweet thing to be the servant of God. Well does David say it twice over. Well does he delight to look at himself as a slave who was born in his Master’s house. “My mother,” he says, “was one of your servants. I am the son of your handmaid.” Oh! it is a blessed thing to be able to be God’s in every way—to feel in looking back, “I am not only his by redemption and by the new birth, but I seem as if I was bound to be his by a long ancestry of men and women, whom his sovereign grace called to himself.” Grace does not run in the blood, but it is a great mercy when it runs side by side with it; and when the handmaiden of the Lord is mother of a man who is a child of God as well as her child. “You have released my bonds.” You are never quite free—you have never had your bonds all released—until you can doubly feel the bonds of God. Read that: “I am your servant. I am your servant.” That is two blows. “You have released my bonds.” There is no freedom except in perfect subjection to the will of God. When every thought is brought into captivity to the mind of God, then every thought is free. You have heard much of the freedom of the will. There is no freedom of the will until grace has bound the will in fetters of divine affection. Then it is free, and not until then. “I am your servant—your servant; you have released my bonds.”

17. I will offer to you the sacrifice of thanksgiving, and will call on the name of the LORD.

He has been doing it. What a man has done he will do. Oh! it is a blessed thing that the children of God at last catch a habit of devotion. Just as the sinner continues in his sin, so may I venture to say, “Shall the Ethiopian change his skin, or the leopard his spots?” If so, then he who has once heartily learned to praise his God may begin to forget to do so. Use is second nature, and the holy use to which God has put us by his grace shall be our nature for ever.

18, 19. I will pay my vows to the LORD now in the presence of all his people, In the courts of the LORD’S house, in the midst of you, oh Jerusalem. Praise the LORD.

I see that David liked company. He would have been happy here, though we meet under conditions not entirely pleasant. He would have been glad to be in the midst of a smiling company of grateful saints, who could all say, “That is true, David. What you have written about yourself, you might have written about each one of us, and each one of us can say, ‘I love the Lord because he has heard my voice and my supplications.’”

Song of Solomon 2

We believe that this Song of Solomon illustrates the mutual love of Christ and his believing people. It is a book of deep mystery, not to be understood except by the initiated; but those who have learned a life of sacred fellowship with Jesus will bear witness that when they desire to express what they feel they are compelled to borrow expressions from this matchless song. Samuel Rutherford, in his famous letters, when he spoke of the love of Christ as shed abroad in his heart, perhaps was scarcely conscious that he continually reproduced the expressions of this song, but it is so. They were naturally fresh enough from him, but they came from this wonderful book. It stands in the middle of the Bible. It is the holy of holies—the central point of all. So he speaks—the glorious “greater than Solomon.”

1, 2. I am the rose of Sharon, and the lily of the valleys. Just as the lily among thorns, so is my love among the daughters.

So Christ’s Church springs up striking for her beauty—as much different from the world—as much superior to it as the lily to the thorns. Now see how she responds and answers to him.

3. Just as the apple tree among the trees of the woods, so is my beloved among the sons. I sat down under his shadow with great delight, and his fruit was sweet to my taste.

To him there is no one like her; to her there is no one like him. Jesus values his people. He paid his heart’s blood for their redemption, and “to you who believe, he is precious.” No mention shall be made of coral or of rubies, in comparison with him. Nothing can equal him. There are other trees in the woods, but he is the one lone fruit-bearing—the citron tree, whose golden apples are delicious to our taste. Let us come up and pick from his loaded branches this very night.

4. He brought me to the banqueting house, and his banner over me was love.

You and I know what this means—at least, many here do. You know how delightful it is to feel that it is not the banner of war now, but the banner of love, that waves above your head, for all is peace between you and your God. And now you are not brought to the prison-house or to the place of labour, but to the banqueting house. Act worthily of the position which you occupy. If you are in a banqueting house, take care to feast.

5. Sustain me with flagons, comfort me with apples: for I am sick with love.

Oh! that I knew him better! Oh! that I loved him more! Oh! that I were more like him! Oh! that I were with him! “I am sick with love.”

6, 7. His left hand is under my head, and his right hand embraces me. I charge you, oh you daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes, and by the hinds of the field, that you do not stir up, nor awaken my love, until he pleases.

If he is with me, may nothing disturb him—nothing cause him to withdraw himself. Our Lord Jesus is very jealous, and when he reveals himself to his people, a very little thing will drive him away like the hinds and the roes that are very timid, so communion is a very delicate and dainty thing. It is soon broken. Oh! may God grant tonight that nothing may happen to the thoughts of any of you by which your fellowship with Christ should be destroyed.