Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Joyful Promises

If there is anything on earth allied to the joys of heaven, it is the smile on the countenance of a new-born soul. The eye is more eloquent than the tongue. The moisture that bedews it, is no token of sorrow. The storm is past; the winds are hushed; and these tears are like the last drops of the shower trembling and glistening in the joyous sun-beam. Hope and Love seem to vie with each other in spreading a verdant path for the feet of the young pilgrim. His skies are all bright; and his song is only in exultant strains. This is the young convert. His soul has just begun to beat with the joys of salvation.

We could dwell with pleasure on this lovely picture; but we are aware that these early joys are not without some passing clouds; and that the soul, in its progress, meets with vicissitudes analogous to the varying incidents of an earthly pilgrimage. But God has given the Christian a staff, on which to lean; and by which he is enabled to tread, cheerfully and securely, his path to the skies. I refer to the PROMISES of the Bible. When the Christian experiences the joy of salvation, all these promises are, thenceforward, his inheritance. He has now not only a chart delineating his course, but these starry lights to cheer and guide him on his way. Not a dangerous pit-fall can occur, nor a venomous foe aim its fang against him; but he has, in these promises, means and antidotes effectual to ward off the danger. There is no situation into which even his own indiscretion can throw him, where they will not apply. "Great and precious" are these promises, and well calculated to encourage and animate the pilgrim.

If we go back to our primitive state, we find that while our first parents were bleeding under the wounds which their sin had inflicted, and while the note of condemnation was yet ringing in their ears, a most precious promise came, like a healing balm, from their injured Sovereign. "The seed of the woman shall bruise the serpent’s head." On this promise the patriarchs lived; and, in view of it, arranged the altar and the sacrifice, in order to keep it the more vividly before the mind. Abraham took the promise of Jehovah as his guiding star, in that pilgrimage which he prosecuted, until he rested in the cave of Machpelah. He was "the father of the faithful;" and his confidence in those assurances of the Almighty was such as to justify the appellation. But the promises were not confined to a temporal inheritance, even in the case of Abraham and his immediate posterity. They included Canaan, but pointed to a brighter inheritance above. So also with respect to believers, in our own days, while some of the promises of God appertain to "the life that now is," most of them refer to "that which is to come."

There is no state of mind, nor any outward situation, in which we may not find some Divine promise applicable to our needs. How many are the fluctuations to which we are liable in this sinful and changeful world! These vicissitudes are appointed by Divine wisdom and goodness to test our sincerity, to strengthen our faith, and to drive us away from earthly supports—to the simple and solid basis of heavenly truth. We do not learn its preciousness, until we are in circumstances to apply it. Hence, when the soul is perplexed and cast down from the loss of its sensible joys, it has recourse to the promises which declare, that "light is sown for the righteous," Psalms 97:11; and, "whoever walks in darkness and sees no light, let him trust in the Lord, and stay himself upon his God," Isaiah 50:10. When temptation presses, and the believer seems ready to yield, he is roused and sustained by the assurance, that God will make a way of escape; and that if we resist the devil, that he will flee from us, 1 Corinthians 10:13; James 4:7. In sickness, the Christian can pillow his head upon the pledge, "You will make all his bed in his sickness," Psalms 41:3; and in the hour of death—that dread hour when mortal strength gives way—he has the consolatory assurance, that though he walks through the valley of the shadow of death, no evil shall befall him; since God is with him, and his rod and staff are there to comfort him, Psalms 23:4. The Divine promises cover all the Christian’s earthly changes, and refer to all his earthly relations. They are not only for him, but for "his children," and seem to have a prospective bearing on their temporal and eternal welfare; as if, in paternal condescension, our heavenly Father intended we should be exempt from an over-anxiety respecting these dearest objects of earth. In the loss of earthly friendships, in deepest poverty, in the most threatening danger, under persecutions, and when envy and malignity have sharpened their arrows against him, the Christian can go to the Divine word, and gather fresh strength to suffer, and obtain new and glorious motives to persevere in the path of duty. In the mighty conflict with self and sin, to what can the soldier of the cross look, but to these assurances of strength and of victory which his great Captain and Leader has given him? Here, in this armory, is a piece fitted for the soul in every situation of attack and of defense. The panoply is complete. Clothed in it, no weapon that is formed against the Christian can prosper. The promises of God secure the Christian from ultimate defeat, and give him the pledge of final victory. No wonder that Bunyan, in his beautiful allegory, gave prominence to the scroll which Christian carried in his bosom, and by consulting which, in critical junctures, he was enabled to go on his way rejoicing. This scroll contained these "great and precious promises." How joyfully may all succeeding pilgrims travel on to their rest with such sweet, encouraging assurances! What a contrast does their state present to that of those, who, amid the storms and tempests of life, have no star to guide, and no secure anchor to hold them! But these promises not only solace and animate the pious mind in view of its own personal state, they also gild the distant future, as it relates to the prospects of Zion, and the final triumphs of the Redeemer. Over this fluctuating scene the believer can look with a calm confidence, that the Almighty is at work to fulfill the great designs of his kingdom, and give to his Son the universal scepter. Are not these promises joyful? Can he who studies them, and trusts in them, be the sport of varying winds and adverse currents? May he not plant his feet upon the rock, and contemplate the billows which beat harmless against it? Above all, he can glance his eye to that region where "there is no more sea," and where the clouds which here had veiled the Divine proceedings will have cleared away, and revealed the wisdom of his plans, the benignity of his acts, the rectitude of his government, and the triumphs of his mercy.