I. The fairest Christians are the most shamefaced with regard to themselves. The person who says, “Look not upon me, because I am black,” is described by some one else in the eighth verse as the “fairest among women.” Others, who thought her the fairest of the fair, spoke no less than the truth when they affirmed it; but in her own esteem she felt herself to be so little fair, and somuch uncomely, that she besought them not even to look upon her. Why is it that the best Christians depreciate themselves the most? Is it not because they are most accustomed to look within? They keep their books in a better condition than those unsafe tradesmen, the counterpart of mere professors, who think themselves “rich and increased in goods,” when they are on the very verge of bankruptcy. In his anxiety to be pure from evil, the godly man will be eager to notice and quick to detect the least particle of defilement; and for this reason he discovers more of his blackness than any other man is likely to see. He is no blacker, but he looks more narrowly, and therefore he sees more distinctly the spots on his own character. The genuine Christian also tries himself by a higher standard. He knows the law to be spiritual, and therefore he judges many things to be sinful which others wink at; and he counts some things to be important duties which others regard as trifles. The genuine Christian sets up no lower standard than perfection. He does not judge himself by others, but by the exact measure of the Divine requirements, by the law of God, and especially by the example of his Lord and Master; and when he thus sets the brightness of the Saviour’s character side by side with his own, then it is that he cries out, Look not upon me, for I am black. Another reason why the fairest Christians are generally those that think themselves the blackest, is that they have more light. When the light of God comes into the soul, and we see what purity really is, what holiness really is, then it is the contrast strikes us. Though we might have thought we were somewhat clean before, when we see God in His light we see light, and we abhor ourselves in dust and ashes. Our defects so appal our own heart, that we marvel they do not exhaust His patience. The better Christian a man is, the more abashed he always feels; because to him sin is so exceedingly hateful, that what sin he sees in himself he loathes himself for far more than others do. A very little sin, as the world calls it, is a very great sin to a truly awakened Christian. Now, I think our text seems to say just this: there were some that admired, the Church. They said she was fair. She seemed to say, “Don t say it; you don t know what I am, or you would not praise me. Every Christian, in pro portion as he lives near to God, will feel this self-abasement, this lowliness of heart; and if others talk of admiring or of imitating him, he will say, “Look not upon me, for I am black.” And as he thus, in deep humility, begs that he be not exalted, he will often, desire others that they would not despise him.” It will come into his mind, Such and such a man of God is a Christian indeed; as he sees my weakness, he will contemn me. Such-and such a disciple of Christ is strong; he will never be able to bear with my weakness. Such and such a Christian woman does, indeed, adorn the doctrine of God her Saviour; but as for me, alas! I am not what I ought to be, nor what I would be. Children of God, do not look upon me with scorn. I will not say that you have motes in your own eyes. I have a beam in mine. Look not upon me too severely. Judge me not harshly. If you do look at me, look to Christ for me, and pray that I may be helped; “for I am black, because the sun hath looked upon me.”
II. The most diligent Christian will be the man most afraid of the evils connected with his work. “Evils connected with his work!” says one. “Does work for God have evils contingent upon it?” Yes; but for every evil connected with the work of God, there are ten evils connected with idleness. I speak now only to the workers. I have known some whom the sun has looked upon in this respect; their zeal has grown cold through non-success. You went out, first of all, as a Christian, full of fire and life. You intended to push the Church before you, and drag the world after you. But you have been mixed up with Christians for some years of a very cool sort. Use the thermometer to-night. Has not the spiritual temperature gone down in your own soul? Perhaps you have not seen, many conversions under your ministry? or in the class which you conduct you have not seen many children brought to Jesus? Do you feel you are getting cool? Then wrap your face in your mantle to-night, and say “Look not upon me, for in losing my zeal I am black, for the sun hath looked upon me.” Perhaps it has affected you in another way, for the sun does not bring freckles out on all faces in the same place. Perhaps it is your temper that is grown sour? Sometimes this evil of sun-burning will come in the shape of joy taken away from the heart by weariness. I do not think any of us are weary of God’s work. If so, we never were called to it. But we may get weary init. The toil is more irksome when the spirits are less buoyant. Well, I would advise you to confess this before God, and ask for a medicine to heal you. You had need get your joy back, but first you must acknowledge that you have lost it. Say, “I am black, because the sun hath looked upon me.”
III. The most watchful Christian is conscious of the danger of self-neglect. “They made me the keeper of the vineyards; but mine own vineyard have I not kept.” Solemnly, let me speak again to my brethren who are seeking to glorify Christ by their lives. I met some time ago with a sermon by that famous divine, Mr. Henry Melvill, which consists all through of one solitary thought, and one only image well worked out. He supposes a man to be a guide in Switzerland. It is his duty to conduct travellers in that country through the sublime passes, and to point out to them the glories of the scenery, and the beauties of the lakes, and streams, and glaciers, and hills. This man, as he continues In his office, almost inevitably gets to repeat his descriptions asa matter of course; and everybody knows how a guide at last comes to “talk book,” and just iterate words which do not awaken any corresponding feeling in his own mind. Yet when he began, perhaps it was a sincere love of the sublime and the beautiful that led him to take up the avocation of a guide; and at first it really was to him a luxury to impart to others what he had felt amidst the glories of nature; but as, year after year, to hundreds of different parties, he had to repeat much the same descriptions, call attention to the same sublimities, and indicate the same beauties, it is almost impossible but that he should get to be at last a mere machine. Through the hardening tendency of custom, and the debasing influence of gain, his aptest descriptions and most exquisite eulogies come to be of no greater account than the mere language of a hireling. Every worker for Christ is deeply concerned in the application of this parable; because the peril of self-complacency increases in precisely the same ratio as the zeal of proselytizing. When counselling others, you think yourself wise. When warning others, you feel yourself safe. When judging others, you suppose yourself above suspicion. You began the work with a flush of ardour; it may be with a fever of enthusiasm; a sacred instinct prompted, a glowing passion moved you. How will you continue it? Here is the danger--the fearful danger--lest you do it mechanically, fall into a monotony, continue in the same train, and use holy words to others with no corresponding feeling in your own soul.
IV. The most conscientious Christian will be the first to inquire for the antidote, and to use the cure. What is the cure? The cure is found in the verse next to my text. See, then, you workers, if you want to keep up your freshness, and not to get blackened by the sun under which you labour, go to your Lord again--go and talk to--Him. Address Him again by that dear name, “Thou whom my soul loveth.” Ask to have your first love rekindled; strive after the love of your espousals. Oh, to be always full of love to Him! You will never get any hurt by working for Him then; your work will do you good. The sweat of labour will even make your face the fairer. The more you do for souls, the purer, and the holier, and the more Christlike will you he, if you do it with Him. Keep up the habit of sitting at His feet, like Mary, as well as serving Him with Martha. You can keep the two together; they will balance each other, and you shall not be barren or unfruitful, neither shall you fall into the blackness which the sun is apt to breed. (C. H. Spurgeon.)
My mother’s children were angry with me.
The Church’s enemies
1. The greatest enemies of the Church are such as are the nearest in relation unto her. Where there is the greatest sympathy, when divided, turns to the greatest antipathy. Hereof David complaineth (Psa_69:9). Such was the enmity of Cain towards Abel, of Esau towards Jacob, of Absalom towards David.
2. The greatest pretenders to religion and holiness, prove many times the greatest enemies to the same (Php_3:5-6). Paul had a zeal, but not according to knowledge; and therefore none more forward to persecute the saints than Paul; none more greater enemies to Christ than the Scribes and Pharisees; none more opposite to the apostles than the devout Jew, one that was zealous for legal observances.
3. Those that are nearest in relation to the saints, and those that pretend most holiness, if such prove false brethren, they afflict and hurt the saints most of all.
(1) Such are most apt to seduce them, and draw them from the truth (Act_20:30). Josephus, in his “Book of Antiquities,” reporteth that when Jerusalem was besieged by the Romans, the Jews received more damage by their several divisions within their city than from the Romans without, who were their besiegers: so a false brother doth more endanger the welfare of the saints than an open enemy.
(2) Such as are false brethren do not only seduce the saints but grievously afflict them; they know how to strike where it will most smart; they know the conscience to be the most tender place, and therefore aim to oppress that most. Julian the Apostate did the saints more hurt than any persecutor beside: so none was more fit to betray Christ than Judas.
(3) False brethren persecute with the greatest heat and indiguation. Of this the Church complaineth here: “My mother’s sons were angry with me,” they were incensed with indignation, and with burning heat and choler; with wrath and envy they were set against her. (John Robotham.)
They made me keeper of the vineyards; but my own vineyard have I not kept.--
The vineyard-keeper at fault
If you consider the bride in the nuptial song to be the Jewish nation, then the text is a confession, that while witnessing for God against other nations--idolatrous nations--the children of Abraham had not considered their own ways. If you take the bride to be the Church of Christ, then the text is a confession that while she has attended to her mission in the world, she has forgotten her duty to herself. If the bride be the individual subject of Messiah’s kingdom, then the text is an acknowledgment that benevolent work has supplanted personal spiritual cultivation. The heart of a Christian is redeemed by the Saviour for God, and redeemed unto God; and that heart is taken possession of by the Holy Ghost that it may bring forth fruit unto God. Now, the keeping of that heart by God Himself is essential to prosperity and well-being; but there is a something also which God requires us to do, and that something is to co-operate with His ministrations and with His care of us. The husbandman breaks up the clods of the field; he casts in the seed; he treats the soil as the soil demands; but when he has done his best and his utmost, Providence has to do very much. Unless rain fall and the sun shine, unless the Source of life give life, and sustain life, the husbandman will be a sower, but he will never be a reaper. Just so is it with the heart of a Christian. There are certain things which God does for us, and then God saith to us, “Nowwork out your own salvation With fear and trembling.” You see, therefore, the point to which I want your attention.
I. What is this complaint? “Mine own vineyard have I not kept.” The spiritual nature of a godly man is here supposed to be likened to a vineyard; and it is like to a vineyard in several respects. In the first place it is a soil in which things are planted and sown; in which things spring up and wither; in which things grow and are cut down; in which things bear fruit and are barren; in which things live and die. In the next place it is a sphere affording full scope for exertion, vigilance and skill. In the third place judicious labour secures profit and reward. And in the last place neglect makes evil fertile, and brings miserable barrenness of good. In a self-neglected spirit you will find such things as these--first there is culpable and mischievous ignorance; also, undigested information; words about things, without the ideas of things; or the ideas of things not connected or classified. You will also find injurious prejudices, false judgments, vain imaginations, irregular emotions, an evil conscience, corrupt motives supposed to be right motives, restlessness, self-deception, falsity of profession, and a constant going back from good and from true positions which the individual has gained. Such an one will,not be like the man who said, “I keep under my body, and bring it into subjection.” He will have no idea of self-crucifixion, or of self-mortification. You will not discover in such an one power in prayer. You will not observe in such a case judicious and successful work. You may find such an one busy; but-you will not witness in this case judicious and successful labour. Neither will you find profit from Divine ordinances--rest of soul or peace of mind. The witness of the Spirit with such a man will not be distinct and clear; nor will you behold in this case the choicest fruits of righteousness. “Mine own vineyard have I not kept.”
II. The cause and the occasion of the evil complained of. You know the distinction between the cause and the occasion. It is possible to keep others’ vineyards, and, at the same time, to take care of our own. The two things are compatible. We are quite sure they may be done together, because God requires us to do them both. The cause of self-neglect, therefore, is not in the vineyard-keeping for others; it must be in the character of the individual concerned. But where in the individual concerned? It may be in false views of a state of salvation, and of our personal obligations. Many persons who are exceedingly particular about doctrine, and who tithe their mint, and anise, and cummin, as respects doctrinal statements, are often horridly careless with reference to practice: and yet if there be not religious practice in those who embrace religious truths, tell me in what is the advantage of holding true doctrine? The cause of neglecting our own vineyards is to be found also in excess of zeal for the welfare of others. It is to be found in false amiability and accessibility to others. It is to be found in a strong taste for the excitement of caring for others; and in the vanity which prefers the position of keeper of the vineyard to the quiet condition of attending to one’s own vineyard. These few remarks will show the cause--now for the occasion. “They made me.” “They.” A great deal of religious and benevolent work is done evidently as unto man, and not as unto God. You ask me for proof of this--I give it you instantly. The proof is here. If the leader or associate of some benevolent religious workers offend them, they will throw the work up directly. What does this prove? It proves that they have been Working for man, and not for God. If men work simply for gratitude, if they are kind to each other simply expecting thankfulness, they will be invariably disappointed. And it is not the prospect of thankfulness from others that should ever bind you to doing good to men. Never look even for gratitude, but do good to another for the sake of the blessed God. And then it matters very little what the man you serve may be, how he may change, either towards you or towards others, you will be able to cleave to him, not for his own sake, but for his God’s sake. We neglect our own vineyards because others call us away, and we obey. We become engrossed. We become too ardent, We are keeping the vineyards of others, just, perhaps, that it may be said that we are keeping their vineyards, and that we may have the praise of the fruit of the vineyard, or that we may please those who are connected with the vineyard. The occasion of self-neglect may be suggested in these words: “They made me keeper of the vineyards. (S. Martin, M. A.)
The unkept vineyard; or, personal work neglected
We are all pretty ready at complaining, especially of other people. Not much good comes of picking holes in other men’s characters; and yet many spend hours in that unprofitable occupation. It will be well for us, at this time, to let our complaint, like that of the text, deal with ourselves.
I. First, then, let me begin with the Christian man who has forgotten his high and heavenly calling. In the day when you and I were born again, we were born for God. In the day when we were quickened by the Holy Ghost into newness of life, that life was bound to be a consecrated one. This you will not deny. Christian, you admit that you have a high, holy and heavenly calling! Now let us look back. We have not spent our life idly: we have been forced to be keepers of the vineyards. Even in Paradise man was bidden to dress the garden. There is something to be done by each man, and specially by each Christian man. Ask yourself, “Am I an earnest labourer together with God, or am I, after all, only a laborious trifler, an industrious doer of nothing, working hard to accomplish no purpose of the sort for which I ought to work, since I ought to live unto my Lord alone?” to a very large degree we have not been true to our professions; our highest work has been neglected, we have not kept our own vineyards. In looking back, how little time has been spent by us in communion with God! How little a part of our thoughts has been occupied with meditation, contemplation, adoration, and other acts of devotion! How little have we surveyed the beauties of Christ, His person, His work, His sufferings, His glory! Think of our neglect of our God, and see whether it is not true that we have treated Him very ill. We have been in the shop, we have been on the exchange, we have been at the markets, we have been in the fields, we have been in the public libraries, we have been in the lecture-room, we have been in the forum of debate; but our own closets and studies, our walk with God, and our fellowship with Jesus, we have far too much neglected. Moreover, the vineyard of holy service for God we have too much left to go to ruin. I would ask you--How about the work your God has called you to do? Men are dying; areyou saving them? Might not many a man among you say to himself, “I have been a tailor,” or “I have been a shopkeeper,” or “I have been a mechanic,” or “I have been a merchant,” or “I have been a physician, and I have attended to these callings; but mine own vineyard, which was my Master’s, which I was bound to look to first of all, I have not kept”? Well, now, what is the remedy for this? It is that you follow up the next verse to my text. Get to your Lord, and in Him you will find recovery from your neglects. Ask Him where He feeds His flock, and go with Him. They have warm hearts who commune with Christ. They areprompt in duty who enjoy His fellowship. Hasten to your Lord, and you will soon begin to keep your vineyard; for in the Song you will see a happy change effected. The spouse began to keep her vineyard directly, and to do it in the best fashion. Within a very short time you find her saying, “Take us the foxes, the little foxes, that spoil the vines.” See, she is hunting out her sins and her follies. Farther on you find her with her Lord in the vineyard, crying, “Awake, O north wind; and come, thou south; blow upon my garden, that the spices thereof may flow out.!” She is evidently keeping her garden, and asking for heavenly influences to make the spices and flowers yield their perfume. She went down to see whether the vines flourished, and the pomegranates budded. Anon, with her Beloved, she rises early to go to the vineyard, and watch the growth of the plants. Farther on you find her talking about all manner of fruits that she has ]aid up for her Beloved. Thus you see that to walk with Christ is the way to keep your vineyard, and serve your Lord.
II. Now I turn to the man who in any place has taken other work and neglected his own. He can use the words of the text--“They made me the keeper of the vineyards; but mine own vineyard have I not kept.” There is a vineyard that a great many neglect, and that is their own heart. It is well to have talent; it is well to have influence; but it is better to be right within yourself. What is your character, and do you seek to cultivate it? Do you ever use the hoe upon those weeds which arc so plentiful in us all? Do you water those tiny plants of goodness which have begun to grow? Do you watch them to keep away the little foxes which would destroy them? Now think of another vineyard. Are not some people neglecting their families? Next to our hearts, our households arc the vineyards which we are most bound to cultivate. It is shocking to find men and women speaking fluently about religion, and yet their houses are a disgrace to Christianity. Besides that, every man who knows the Lord should feel that his vineyard lies also around about his own house. If God has saved your children, then try to do something for your neighbours, for your workpeople, for those with whom you associate in daily labour. (C. H. Spurgeon.)
Shepherdess
The bride was most unhappy and ashamed because her personal beauty had been sorely marred by the heat of the sun. The fairest among women had become swarthy as a sunburnt slave. Spiritually it is so full often with a chosen soul. The Lord’s grace has made her fair to look upon, even as the lily; but she has been so busy about earthly things that the sun of worldliness has injured her beauty. The bride with holy shamefacedness exclaims, “Look not upon me, for I am black, because the sun hath looked upon me.” This is one index of a gracious soul--that whereas the ungodly rush to and fro, and know not where to look for consolation, the believing heart naturally flies to its well-beloved Saviour, knowing that in Him is its only rest. It would appear from the preceding verse that the bride was also in trouble about a certain charge which had been given to her, which burdened her, and in the discharge of which she had become negligent of herself. “Mine own vineyard have I not kept.” Under this sense of double unworthiness and failure, feeling her omissions and her commissions to be weighing her down, she turned round to her Beloved and asked instruction at His hands. This was well. Had she not loved her Lord she would have shunned Him when her comeliness was faded, but the instincts of her affectionate heart suggested to her that He would not discard her because of her imperfections. She was, moreover, wise thus to appeal to her Lord against herself. Never let sin part you from Jesus. Under a sense of sin do not fly from Him; that were foolishness. Sin may drive you from Sinai; it ought to draw you to Calvary.
I. Here is a question asked. Every word of the inquiry is worthy of our careful meditation. You will observe, first, concerning it, that it is asked in love. She calls Him to whom she speaks by the endearing title, “O Thou whom my soul loveth.” Whatever she may feel herself to be, she knows that she loves Him. The life of her existence is bound up with Him: if there be any force and power and vitality in her, it is but as fuel to the great flame of her love, which burns alone for Him. Mark well that it is not “O Thou whom my soul believes in.” That would be true, but she has passed further. It is not “OThou whom my soul honours.” That is true too, but she has passed beyond that stage. Nor is it merely “O Thou whom my soul trusts and obeys.” She is doing that, but she has reached something warmer, more tender, more full of fire and enthusiasm, and it is “O Thou whom my soul loveth.” The question therefore becomes instructive to us, because it is addressed to Christ under a most endearing title; and I ask every worker here to take care that he always does his work in a spirit of love, and always regards the Lord Jesus not as a taskmaster, not as one who has given us work to do from which we would fain escape, but as our dear Lord, whom to serve is bliss, and for whom to die is gain. “O Thou whom my soul loveth,” is the right name by which a worker for Jesus should address his Lord. Now note that the question, as it is asked in love, is also asked of Him. “Tell me, O Thou whom my soul loveth, where Thou feedest.” She asked Him to tell her, as if she feared that none but Himself would give her the correct answer; others might be mistaken, but He could not be. She asked of Him because she was quite sure that He would give her the kindest answer. Perhaps she felt that nobody else could tell her as He could, for others speak to the ear, but He speaks to the heart: others speak with lower degrees of influence, we hear their speech but are not moved thereby; but Jesus speaks, and the Spirit goes with every word He utters, and therefore we hear to profit when He converses with us. Now, observe what the question is. She wishes to know how Jesus does His work, and where He does it. The question seems to be just this: “Lord, tell me what are the truths with which Thou dost feed Thy people’s souls; tell me what are the doctrines which make the strong ones weak and the sad ones glad: tell me what is that precious meat which Thou art wont to give to hungry and fainting spirits, to revive them and keep them alive; for if Thou tell me, then I will give my flock the same food: tell me where the pasture is wherein Thou dost feed Thy sheep, and straightway I will lead mine to the selfsame happy fields. Then tell me how Thou makest Thy people to rest. What are those promises which Thou dost apply to the consolation of their spirit, so that their cares and doubts and fears and agitations all subside? Thou hast sweet meadows where Thou makest Thy beloved flock to lie calmly down and slumber, tell me where those meadows are that I may go and fetch the flock committed to my charge, the mourners whom I ought to comfort, the distressed ones whom I am bound to relieve, the desponding whom I have endeavoured to encourage; tell me, Lord, where Thou makest Thy flock to lie down, for then, under Thy help, I will go and make my flock to lie down too. It is for myself, but yet far more for others, that I ask the question, ‘Tell me where Thou feedest, where Thou makest them to rest at noon.’“ We would know the groves of promise and the cool streams of peace,that we may lead others into rest. If we can follow Jesus we can guide others, and so both we and they will find comfort and peace. That is the meaning of the request before us.
II. Here is an argument used. The bride says, “Why should I be as one that turneth aside by the flocks of Thy companions?” If she should lead her flock into distant meadows, far away from -the place where Jesus is feeding His flock, it would not be well. She speaks of it as a thing most abhorrent to her mind, and well might it be. For, first, would it not look very unseemly that the bride should be associating with others than the Bridegroom? They have each a flock: there is He with His great flock, and here is she with her little one. Shall they seek pastures far off from one another? Will there not be talk about this? Will not onlookers say, “This is not seemly: there must be some lack of love here, or else these two would not be so divided”? Stress may be put, if you like, upon that little word “I.” Why should I, Thy blood-bought spouse; I, betrothed unto Thee, or ever the earth was, I, whom Thou hast loved,--why should I turn after others and forget Thee? Our hearts may grow unchaste to Christ even while they are zealous in Christian work. I dread very much the tendency to do Christ’s work in a cold, mechanical spirit; but above even that I tremble lest I should be able to have warmth for Christ’s work and yet should be cold towards the Lord Himself. Beware of that I Love your work, but love your Master better; love your flock, but love the great Shepherd better Still, and ever keep close to Him, for it will be a token of unfaithfulness if you do not. And mark again, “Why should I be as one that turneth aside by the flocks of Thy companions?” We may read this as meaning, “Why should I be so unhappy as to have to work for Thee, and yet be out of communion with Thee?” It is a very unhappy thing to lose fellowship with Jesus and yet to have to go on with religious exercises. If the wheels are taken off your chariot it is no great matter if nobody wants to ride, but how if you are called upon to drive on? When a man s foot is lamed he may not so much regret it if he can sit still, but if he be bound to run a race he is greatly to be pitied. It made the spouse doubly unhappy even to suppose that she, with her flock to feed and herself needing feeding too, should have to turn aside by the flocks of others and miss the presence of her Lord. Above all, should we not try to live as a church, and individually, also, in abiding fellowship with Jesus; for if we turn aside from Him we shall rob the truth of its aroma, yea, of its essential fragrance. If we lose fellowship with Jesus we shall have the standard, but where will be the standard-bearer? We may retain the candlestick, but where shall be the light? We shall be shorn of our strength, of our joy, our comfort, our all, if we miss fellowship with Him. God grant, therefore, that we may never be as those who turn aside.
III. We have here an answer given by the Bridegroom to His beloved. She asked Him where He fed, where He made His flock to rest, and He answered her. Observe carefully that this answer is given in tenderness to her infirmity; not ignoring her ignorance, but dealing very gently with it. “If thou know not”--a hint that she ought to have known, but such a hint as kind lovers give when they would fain forbear to chide. The Lord forgives our ignorance, and condescends to instruct it. Note next that the answer is given in great love. He says, “O thou fairest among women.” That is a blessed cordial for her distress. She said, “I am black”; but He says, “O thou fairest among women. I would rather trust Christ’s eyes than mine. If my eyes tell me I am black I will weep, but if He assures me I am fair I will believe Him and rejoice. As the artist, looking on the block of marble, sees in the stone the statue which he means to fetch out of it with matchless skill, so the Lord Jesus sees the perfect image of Himself in us, from which He means to chip away the imperfections and the sins until it stands out in all its splendour” But still it is gracious condescension which makes Him say, “Thou art fairest among women,” to one who mourned her own sunburnt countenance. The answer contains much sacred wisdom. The bride is directed where to go that she may find her Beloved and lead her flock to Him. “Go thy way forth by the footprints of the flock.” If thou wilt find Jesus, thou wilt find Him in the way the holy prophets went, in the way of the patriarchs and the way of the apostles. And if thou dost desire to find thy flock, and to make them lie down, very well, go thou and feed them as other shepherds have done--Christ’s own shepherds whom He has sent in other days to feed His chosen. Make the Lord Jesus your model and example; and by treading where the footprints of the flock are to be seen, you will both save yourself and them that hear you; you shall find Jesus, and they shall find Jesus too. Then the spouse added, “Feedthy kids beside the shepherds tents, Now, who are these shepherds? Let me take you to the twelve principal shepherds who came after the great Shepherd of all. You want to bless your children, to save their souls, and have fellowship with Christ in the doing of it; then teach them the truths which the apostles taught. And what were they? Take Paul as an example. “I determined not to know anything among you save Jesus Christ, and Him crucified.” That is feeding the kids beside the shepherds’ tents, when you teach our children Christ, much of Christ, all of Christ, and nothing else but Christ. Mind you stick to that blessed subject. And when you are teaching them Christ, teach them all about His life, His doeth, His resurrection; teach them His Godhead and His manhood. Preach regeneration. Let it be seen how thorough the change is, that we may glorify God’s work. Preach the final perseverance of the saints. Teach that the Herd is not changeable--casting away His people, loving them to-day and hating them to-morrow. Preach in fact, the doctrines of grace as you find them in the Book. Feed them beside the shepherds tents. Aye, and feed the kids there--the little children. (C. H. Spurgeon.)
A dialogue
It is the Church addressing her Lord; it is the condescending Saviour giving in reply the instruction required.
I. The Church addresses her Lord.
1. A conscious love to her best friend.
(1) The Church loves Him for His personal excellence.
(2) The Church loves Him for His condescending gifts.
(3) The Church loves Him for His precious promises.
2. A dread of swerving from her loyalty to Him. “Why should I be as one that turneth aside, etc. Christ has many rivals: and that, not only in hearts which “the god of this world hath blinded, but even in those of His faithful followers. The spiritual Christian is aware that there are such rivals. He knows how ensnaring they are--how feeble and treacherous his own heart is.
3. An anxious petition for His pastoral care. “Tell me where Thou feedest,” etc. A true believer needs food for his soul; something to nourish and strengthen him in the exercise of that spiritual life. And it is to Christ that He looks for it--“Tell me where Thou feedest,” that I may “go in and out, and find pasture.” He needs rest to his soul--peace from the war in his members--victory over the world, whether it allure or terrify him. And because Jesus has invited “all them that labour and are heavy laden,” he “comes”; “Tell me where Thou makest Thy flock to rest at noon.”
II. The condescending Saviour replies.
1. A gentle reproof: “If thou know not.” They who know so much of Christ, as the petition implies, already possess the means of knowing more. But they are apt to forget their past experience of His care, and of the way in which they sought and found it, and impatiently desire some new and unusual means to be employed for their consolation. Then He will gently reprove--“How I knowest thou not? if I be not a Saviour to others, yet doubtless I am to thee I”
2. An expression of endearment: “O thou fairest among women!” Has He, then, forgotten that we are “conceived in sin “ and “shapen in iniquity”
V. He sees, moreover, the graces of the Spirit which He Himself bestows upon His children; imperfect, indeed, but genuine--variable, but progressive--resisted by the flesh, but gradually victorious over it.
3. A significant reference. Certain questions had been asked: the Saviour will not give a direct answer, but refers the questioner to those who could satisfy the inquiry. “Go thy way forth by the footsteps of the flock,” etc.
(1) Christ will have His people to be helpers of each other’s faith, hope, and love.
(2) Christ puts especial honour upon His own ordinance, the preaching of the Gospel; and upon His ministers in that excellent work. He is Himself “the Chief Shepherd”; yet the tents of His under-shepherds must also be frequented. (J. Jowett, M. A.)
The Church’s love to her loving Lord
I. We commence with thy title: “O Thou whom my soul loveth.” It is well to be able to call the Lord Jesus Christ by this name without an “if,” or a “but.” Learn to get that positive knowledge of your love to Jesus, and be not satisfied till you can talk about your interest in Him as a reality, which you have made infallibly sure by having received the witness of the Holy Spirit, and His seal upon your soul by faith, that you are born of God, and belong to Christ. Speaking, then, of this title which rings the great bell of love to Jesus, let us notice first the cause, and secondly the effect of that love.
1. If we can look into the face of Him who once sweat great drops of blood, and call Him, “OThou whom my soul loveth,” it is interesting to consider what is the cause of our love. And here our reply is very quick. The efficient cause of our love is the Holy Spirit of God why do we love Jesus? We have the best of answers--because He first loved us. Moreover, we have another is present dealings towards them. What has He not done for us this very day? He has made us glad; our spirits have leaped for very joy, for He hath turned again the captivity of our soul. Nor is this all. We love the Saviour because of the excellency of His person. We are not blind to excellence anywhere, but still we can see no excellence like His.
2. I shall now for a short time speak on the effects of this love, as we have dwelt on the cause of it. When a man has true love to Christ, it is sure to lead him to dedication. There is a natural desire to give something to the person whom we love, and true love to Jesus compels us to give ourselves to Him. When the pupils of Socrates had nearly all of them given him a present, there was one of the best scholars who was extremely poor, and he said to Socrates, “I have none of these things which the others have presented to thee; but, O Socrates, I give thee myself”; whereupon Socrates said it was the best present he had had that day. “My son, give Me thy heart”--this is what Jesus asks for. True love next shows itself in obedience. If I love Jesus, I shall do as He bids me. He is my Husband, my Lord--I call Him “Master.” “If ye love Me,” saith He, “keep My commandments.” True love, again, is always considerate and afraid lest it should give offence. It walks very daintily. If I love Jesus, I shall watch my eye, my heart, my tongue, my hand, being so fearful lest I should wake my beloved, or make Him stir until He please; and I shall be sure not to take in those bad guests, those ill-favoured guests of pride and sloth, and love of the world. Again, true love to Christ will make us very jealous of His honour. As Queen Eleanor went down upon her knees to suck the poison from her husband’s wound, so we shall put our lips to the wound of Christ when He has been stabbed with the dagger of calumny, or inconsistency, being willing sooner to take the poison ourselves, and to be ourselves diseased and despised than that His name, His cross, should suffer ill. Oh, what matters it what becomes of us, if the King reigneth? If we love Christ, again, we shall be desiring to promote His cause, and we shall be desiring to promote it ourselves. We shall wish to see the strength of the mighty turned at the gate, that King Jesus may return triumphant; we shall not wish to sit still while our brethren go to war, but we shall want to take our portion in the fray, that like soldiers that love their monarch, we may prove by our wounds and by our sufferings that our love is real. The apostle says, “Let us not love in word only but in deed and in truth.” Actions speaks louder than words, and we shall always be anxious to tell our love in deeds as well as by our lips. And once again, if we love Jesus we shall be willing to suffer for Him. Darkness is light about us if we can serve Him there.
II. The second point of consideration is the desire of the Church after Christ Jesus our Lord: having called Him by His title, she now expresses her longing to be with Him. “Tell me, O Thou whom my soul loveth, where Thou feedest.” The desire of a renewed soul is to find out Christ and to be with Him. Stale meats left over from yesterday are very well when there is nothing else, but who does not like hot food fresh from the fire? And past communion with Christ is very well. “I remember Thee from the land of the Hermonites and the hill Mizar;” but these are only stale meats, and a loving soul wants fresh food every day from the table of Christ, and you that have once had the kisses of His mouth, though you remember the past kisses with delight, yet want daily fresh tokens of His love. A true loving soul, then, wants present communion with Christ; so the question is, “Tell me where Thou feedest? Where dost Thou get Thy comfort from, O Jesu? I will go there. Where do Thy thoughts go? To Thy cross? Dost Thou look back to that? Then I will go there. Where Thou feedest, there will I feed. Or does this mean actively, instead of being in the passive or the neuter? Where dost Thou feed Thy flock? In Thy house? I will go there, if I may find Thee there. In private prayer? Then I will not be slack in that In the Word? Tell me where Thou feedest, for wherever Thou standest as the Shepherd, there will I be, for I want Thee. I cannot be satisfied to be apart from Thee. My soul hungers and thirsts to be with Thee. She puts it again, “Where dost Thou make Thy flock to rest at noon,” for there is only rest in one place, where Thou causest Thy flock to rest at noon. She wants to get away to hold quiet communion with her Lord, for He is the brook where the weary may lave their wearied limbs; He is that sheltered nook, that shadow of the great rock in the weary land where His people may lie down and be at peace.
III. The argument used by thechurch. She says, “Why should I be as one that turneth aside by the flocks of Thy companions?” Thou hast plenty of companions--why should I be turned aside? Why should I not be one? Let us talk it over. Why should I lose my Lord’s presence? But the devil tells me I am a great sinner. Ah I but it is all washed away, and gone for ever. That cannot separate me, for it does not exist. My sin is buried. The devil tells me I am unworthy, and that is a reason. But I always was unworthy, and yet it was no reason why He should not love me at first, and therefore cannot be a reason why I should not have fellowship with Him now. Why should I be left out? Why should I be turned aside? I am equally bought with a price. I cost Him, in order to save me, as much as the noblest of the saints; He bought them with blood; He could not buy me with less. (C. H. Spurgeon.)
The love of the Redeemer and the redeemed
I. The relation which Christ sustains to us as the shepherd of our souls.
II. The warm affection which Christ’s relation to us inspires. “Thou whom my soul loveth.”
III. The special manifestation of his favour for which our affection pleads. “Tell me where Thou feedest, where Thou makest Thy flock to rest at noon.” It is a perfectly legitimate thing to desire a close, personal intimacy with our Saviour. There is no virtue in spiritual timidity. We ought not to be contented with a dwarfed and maimed Christianity, with an imperfect righteousness or a disturbed peace. In everything we should seek to attain the highest and do the best. And if Christ be a Saviour at all, we ought to desire His best and choicest blessings. If He welcomes us in our sin and sorrow, He will not spurn our endeavours to be always near Him. If, however, we are to reach this height, we must take the course indicated in our text. We rise by earnest and fervent prayer. “Tell me where Thou feedest.” To receive we must ask; to find we must seek; to have the door opened to us we must knock. The receiving of this blessing must be made a direct andspecific aim.
IV. The satisfaction and delight such a manifestation of our Lord’s favour will bring. ,”Why should I be as one that turneth asideby the flocks of Thy companions?’ I need scarcely remind you how in actual life other lords than Christ claim to rule over us. (J. Stuart.)
Love to Jesus
I. First, then, the loving title of our text is to be considered as expressing rhetoric of the lip. The text calleth Christ, “Thou whom my soul loveth.” Let us take this title and dissect it a little. One of the first things which will strike us when we come to look upon it, is the reality, of the love which is here expressed. Reality, I say; understanding the term “real,” not in contradistinction to that which is lying and fictitious, but in contrast to that which is shadowy and indistinct. Suppose an infant taken away from its mother, and you should seek to foster in it a love to the parent by constantly picturing before it the idea of a mother,--and attempting to give it the thought of a mother’s relation to the child. Indeed, I think you would have a difficult task to fix in that child the true and real love which it ought to bear towards her who bore it. But give that child a mother; let it hang upon that mother’s real breast; let it derive its nourishment from her very heart: let it see that mother; feel that mother; put its little arms about that mother’s real neck and you have no hard task to make it love its mother. So is it with the Christian. We want Christ--not an abstract, doctrinal, pictured Christ--but a real Christ. It is not the idea of disinterestedness; it is not the idea of devotion; it is not the idea of self-consecration that will ever make the Church mighty: it must be that idea incarnate, consolidated, personified in the actual existence of a realized Christ in the camp of the Lord’s host. I do pray for you, and pray you for me, that we may each one of us have a love which realizes Christ, and which can address Him as “Thou whom my soul loveth.” But, again, look at the text and you will perceive another thing very clearly. The Church, in the expression which she uses concerning Christ, speaks not only with a realization of His presence, but with a firm assurance of her own love. Many of you, who do really love Christ, can seldom get further than to say, “O Thou whom my soul desires to love! O Thou whom I hope I love I” But this sentence saith not so at all. This title hath not the shadow of a doubt or a fear upon it: “OThou whom my soul loveth!” Is it not a happy thing for a child of God when he knows that he loves Christ? when he canspeak of it as a matter of consciousness?--a thing out of which he is not to be argued by all the reasonings of Satan?--a thing concerning which he can put his hand upon his heart, and appeal to Jesus and say, “Lord, Thou knowest all things, Thou knowest that I love Thee”? Now, notice something else equally worthy of our attention. The church, the spouse, in thus speaking of her Lord, thus directs our thoughts not merely to her confidence of love, but the unity of her affections with regard to Christ. She hath not two lovers, she hath but one. She doth not say, “O yeon whom my heart is set!” but “O Thou!”She hath but one after whom her heart is panting. She has gathered her affections into one bundle, she hath made them but one affection, and then she hath cast that bundle of myrrh and spices upon the breast of Christ. He is to her the “Altogether Lovely,” the gathering up of all the loves which once strayed abroad. She has put before the sun of her heart, a burning-glass, which has brought all her love to a focus, and it is all concentrated with all its heat and vehemence upon Christ Jesus Himself. Come, do we love Christ after this fashion? Do we love Him so that we can say, “Comparedwith our love to Jesus, all other loves are but as nothing”? If you will look at the title before us, you will have to learn not only its reality, its assurance, its unity; but you will have to notice its constancy, “O Thou whom my soul loveth.” Not, “did love yesterday;” or, “may begin to love to-morrow;” but, “Thou whom my soul loveth,”--“Thou whom I have loved ever since I knew Thee, and to love whom has become as necessary to me as my vital breath or my native air.” The true Christian is one who loves Christ for evermore. In our text you will clearly perceive a vehemence of affection. The spouse saith of Christ, “O Thou whom my soul loveth.” She means not that she loves Him a little, that she loves Him with an ordinary passion, but that she loves Him in all the deep sense of that word. Oh! you should see Love when she hath her heart full of her Saviour’s presence, when she cometh out of her chamber! Indeed, she is like a giant refreshed with new wine. I have seen her dash down difficulties, tread upon hot irons of affliction and her feet have not been scorched; I have seen her lift up her spear against ten thousand, and she has slain them at one time. I have known her give up all she had, even to the stripping of herself, for Christ; and yet she seemed to grow richer, and to be decked with ornaments as she unarrayed herself, that she might cast her all upon her Lord, and give up all to Him. Do you know this love, Christian brethren and sisters?
II. Now let me come to the logic of the heart, which lies at the bottom of the text. My heart, why shouldest thou love Christ? With what argument wilt thou justify thyself? Our hearts give for their reason why they love Him, first, this: We love Him for His infinite loveliness. When you see Christ you look up, but you do more, you feel drawn up; you do not admire so much as love; you do not adore so much as embrace; His character enchants, subdues, o’erwhelms, and with the irresistible impulse of its own sacred attraction--it draws your spirit right up to Him. But still, love hath another argument why she loveth Christ, namely, Christ’s love to her. One more reason does love give us yet more powerful still. Love feels that she must give herself to Christ, because of Christ’s suffering for her. This is love’s logic. I may well stand here and defend the believer’s love to his Lord. I wish I had more to defend than I have. I dare stand here and defend the utmost extravagancies of speech, and the wildest fanaticisms of action, when they have been done for love to Christ. I say again, I only wish I had more to defend in these degenerate times. Has a man given up all for Christ? I will prove him wise if he has given up for such an one as Christ is. Has a man died for Christ? I write over his epitaph that he surely was no fool who had but the wisdom to give up his heart for one who had His heart pierced for him.
III. Rhetoric is good, logic is better, but a positive demonstration is the best. Let the world see that this is not a mere label to you--a label for something that does not exist, but that Christ really is to you “Him whom your soul loves.” (C. H. Spurgeon.)
Heavenly Food
First of all, we find in the words of the text the cry of the living, longing soul, “Tell me, O Thou whom I love, where Thou feedest, where Thou makest Thy flock to rest at noon.” The soul that here speaks is the soul of the child of God speaking to Jesus. It is a test by which to try the true spiritual life of a soul. The heart can always speak to Jesus in words of love, for we are not God’s true children, we are not true disciples of Jesus, unless each of us can speak to Him in words like these, “O Thou whom my soul loveth.” It is not, remember, the warm excited feelings of affection of which God’s Word here speaks, but of the deliberate choice, of the deliberate surrender of the will. But, again, the text is also the cry of a hungering soul, “Tell me, O Thou whom my soul loveth, where Thou feedest, where Thou makest Thy flock to rest at noon.” It is, you see, the soul hungering from a sense of weakness, conscious of the need of heavenly food. So we may hear one saying, “I see others around me strong in the life and power of His might, though I suffer naught but defeat.” It is the cry of a soul which has been stumbling on in weakness, fighting and backsliding, yet longing to get more near to Jesus, to cleave to Him, to follow after Him, yet deeply conscious of its utter helplessness and weakness and need of spiritual food. God Himself hath given us the answer. He feeds us with the Word of Life--gives us strength with which to fight on through the struggle after Jesus. Is this the spiritual food with which our souls are strengthened and refreshed from day to day Again, God feeds us in the blessed sacrament of His body and blood. But, again, the soul asks, “Where makest Thou Thy flock to rest at noon?” The phrase “at noon” carries us to another suggestion of our text. It may have been in the scorching sun of prosperity that we suffered our great trial--none so sharp as that, none under which one who had been really seeking God found it more difficult to follow Jesus, none under which he had more need to cry, “Tell me, O Thou whom I love, where Thou feedest, where Thou makest Thy flock to rest at noon.” But, blessed be God, there are those on whom the sun of prosperity has shined in all its brightness, yet have never been moved from rest in their Holy Saviour. We long to know and enjoy that rest for ourselves. And where is our hope? Not in any thing of man, but in God’s Word. The Lord hath said, “Believe,” and I take Him at His word and rest in that word. He tells me of One who loved me and gave Himself for me, and then I ask my soul, “Do I feel peace? Do I sufficiently care about this matter? Do I sufficiently love my Saviour.?” There is no sweeter resting-place for weary souls than in God’s own soul. But, once more, God gives us rest in His Church. Is this not the meaning of what we call the “Dayof Rest” our Lord’s Day, the day given by our Lord to be a resting-place unto our souls in the midst of a weary world? Surely, above all things that we desire in this busy, toiling age, is that we may find rest. Yet one other question arises in our hearts as we speak to Him whom our soul loveth. Christ has two flocks--a travelling flock and a gathered flock. He tells us where the travelling flock finds rest--in the pastures of His Word, in the quiet of His Church, above all in His own heart of love. But that gathered flock--where does that rest? We shall know when we, like it, are gathered. God’s Word tells us but little of that heavenly rest, but enough surely to spur us on to seek it earnestly each for ourselves. “There remaineth a rest for the people of God.” Oh! let us then press on more earnestly after Jesus lest any of us fail to enter into the rest. But now let us turn to the answer to our text--“If thou know not, O thou fairest among women, go thy way. Go forth by the footsteps of the flock, and feed thy kids beside the shepherd tents. Why should I be as one that turneth aside by the flocks of Thy companions?” is the question of the anxious soul. Let it be our question this morning, each one for himself, “Why should I be as one that turneth aside?” God calls me to read His Word, why should I reject the Heavenly knowledge? God calls me to rest on His Church, why should I turn my back upon that rest and seize after the things of the world? God calls me to His Holy Sacrament, “Why should I be as one that turneth aside from the flocks?” Yes, why indeed? Can we do without Christ? Can we risk disobedience to His Holy Word? Are we strong enough without His strength? Can we be satisfied without He shall feed us? (Archbishop Maclagan.)
