The Relationship of Marriage
"Turn, O backsliding children, saith
the Lord; for I am married unto you."—Jeremiah 3:14.
HESE BE DAINTY WORDS—a grateful anodyne for a
troubled conscience. Such singular comfort is fitted to cheer up the
soul, and put the brightest hue on all her prospects. The person to whom
it is addressed hath an eminently happy position. Satan will be very
busy with you, believer in Christ, to-night. He will say, "What right
have you to believe that God is married to you?" He will remind you of
your imperfections, and of the coldness of your love, and perhaps of the
backsliding state of your heart. He will say, "What, with all this
about you, can you be presumptuous enough to claim union with the Son of
God? Can you venture to hope that there will be any marriage between
you and the holy One." He will tell you as though he were an advocate
for holiness, that it is not possible that such a one as you feel
yourself to be, can really be a partaker of so choice and special a
privilege as being married unto the Lord. Let this suffice for an answer
to all such suggestions: the text is found addressed, not to Christians
in a flourishing state of heart, not to believers upon Mount Tabor,
transfigured with Christ, not to a spouse all chaste and fair, and
sitting under the banner of love, feasting with her lord; but it is
addressed to those who are called "backsliding children." God speaks to
his church in her lowest and most abject estate, and though he does not
fail to rebuke her sin, to lament it, and to make her lament it too, yet
still in such an estate he says to her, "I am married unto you." Oh! it
is grace that he should be married to any of us, but it is grace at its
highest pitch, it is the ocean of grace at its flood-tide, that he
should speak thus of "backsliding children." That he should speak in
notes of love of any of the fallen race of Adam is "passing strange—'tis
wonderful;" but that he should select those who have behaved
treacherously to him, who have turned their backs to him and not their
faces, who have played him false, although, nevertheless, his own, and
say unto them, "I am married unto You;" this is loving-kindness beyond
aught we could wont or ween. Hear, O heaven, and admire, O earth, let
every understanding heart break forth into singing, yea, let every
humble mind bless and praise the condescension of the Most High! Cheer
up poor drooping hearts. Here is sweet encouragement for some of you who
are depressed, and disconsolate, and sit alone, to draw living waters
out of this well. Do not let the noise of the archers keep you back from
the place of the drawing of water. Be not afraid lest you should be
cursed whilst you are anticipating the blessing. If you do but trust in
Jesus, if you have but a vital interest in the once humbled, now exalted
Lord, come with holy boldness to the text, and whatever comfort there
be here, receive it and rejoice therein.
To this
end let us attentively consider the relationship, which is here
spoken of, and diligently enquire how far we are experimentally
acquainted with it.
I. IN
CONSIDERING THE RELATIONSHIP WHICH IS HERE SPOKEN OF, you will observe
that the affinity of marriage, though exceedingly near kin, is not
one of birth.
Marriage
is not a relationship of original consanguinity. It is contracted
between two persons who may, during the early part of their lives, have
been entire strangers to one another; they may scarcely have looked each
other in the face, excepting during the few months that precede their
nuptials. The families may have had no previous acquaintance, they may
have lived afar off as the very antipodes. One may have been opulent,
and in possession of vast domains, and the other may have been indigent,
and reduced to straitened circumstances. Genealogies do not regulate
it: disparities do not hinder it. The connection is not of natural birth
but of voluntary contract or covenant. Such is the relationship, which
exists between the believer and his God. Whatever relation there was
originally between God and man, it was stamped out and extinguished by
the fall. We were aliens, strangers, and foreigners, far off from God by
wicked works. We had henceforth no relation to the Most High; we were
banished from his presence as traitors to his throne, as condemned
criminals who had revolted against his power. Between our souls and God
there could be no communion. He is light and we are dark. He is holiness
and we are sin. He is heaven, and we are far more akin to hell. In him
there is consummate greatness, and we are puny insignificance. He
filleth all worlds with his strength, and as for us, we are the
creatures of a day, who know nothing, and who are crushed before the
moth. The gulf between. God and a sinner is something terrible to
contemplate. There is a vast difference between God and the creature
even when the creature is pure, but between God and the fallen
creature—oh! where is the he that shall measure the infinite leagues of
distance? Where was there a means of ever bridging so terrible a chasm
except the Lord Jesus had found it in his own person, and in his own
passion? How could we have ever perceived the infinite design, unless it
had been revealed to us as an accomplished fact, by which he has
reconciled us and brought us into communion with himself, that we should
be married unto him? Now, Christian, just contemplate what you were,
and the degraded family to which you belonged, that you may magnify the
riches of his grace who espoused you in your low estate, and hath so
bound himself with all the pledges of a husband that he saith, "I am
married unto you." What were you? That is a black catalogue of foul
transgressors which the apostle gives in the first epistle to the
Corinthians (6:9, 11), I forbear a recital of the filthy vices—at the
end of which he says, "Bat ye are washed, but ye are sanctified." In
those crimes he enumerates, many of us had a share, nay, all of us! What
was our father, and what our father's house? What was our aim? What was
our practice? What were our desires? What were our tendencies? They
were earthly, downward, hell-ward. We were at a distance from God, and
we loved that distance well. But the Lord Jesus took upon himself our
nature: upon him the Lord did lay the iniquity of all his people. And
why? Not merely to save us from the wrath to come, but that we, being
lifted up out of our degradation by virtue of his atonement, and being
sanctified and made meet by the power of the Spirit, should have a
relationship established between us and God which was not formed by
nature, but which has been achieved and consummated by astounding grace.
Unto the Lord let us give thanks this night, as we recollect the hole
of the pit whence we were digged, and call to mind the fact that now we
are united to him in ties of blood and bonds of love.
Marriage-union
is the result of choice. Any exceptions to this rule that might be
pleaded, are void in reason, because they arise from folly and
transgression: there ought to be no exception. It is scarcely a true
marriage at all where there has not been a choice on each side. But
certainly if the Lord our God is married unto us, and we are married
unto God, the choice is mutual. The first choice is with God. That
choice was made, we believe, before the foundation of the world
"Long ere the sun's refulgent ray
Primeval shades of darkness drove,
They on his sacred bosom lay,
Lov'd with an everlasting love."
God never began to love his people. It were impossible for the spiritual
mind to entertain so unworthy a thought. He saw them in the glass of
his decrees; he foresaw them, with his eye of prescience, in the mass of
creatureship, all fallen and ruined; but yet he beheld them, and pitied
and loved them, elected them and set them apart. "They shall be mine,"
saith the Lord. Here we are all agreed; and we ought to be all agreed
upon the second point, namely, that we also have chosen our God.
Brethren, no man is saved against his will. If any man should say that
he were saved against his will, it would be a proof that he was not
saved at all; for reluctancy or indifference betrays an entire
alienation of all the affections of the heart. If the will is still set
against God, then the whole man is proven to be at enmity with him. By
nature we did not choose God': by nature we kicked against his law, and
turned aside from his dominion. But is it not written, "My people shall
be willing in the day of my power"? Do you not understand how, without
any violation of your free agency, God has used proper arguments and
motives so as to influence your understanding? Through our understanding
our will is convinced, and our souls are spontaneously drawn. Then we
throw down the weapons of our rebellion, and humble ourselves at the
footstool of the Most High; and now we do freely choose that which we
once wickedly abhorred. Do not you, Christian, at this very hour, choose
Christ with all your heart to be your Lord and Savior? If it could be
put to you over again to make an election whether you should love the
world or love Christ, would you not say, "Oh! my Beloved is better to me
than ten thousand worlds! He fixes all my love, engrosses all my
passion: I give myself up to him most freely; he bought me with a great
price; he won me with his great love; he enraptured me with his
unspeakable charms, so I give myself up to him"? Here is a mutual
choice. I wish that some of our friends would forbear to make such a
stand against the doctrine of God's choosing us. If they will but read
Scripture with an unprejudiced mind, I am quite sure they will find it
there. It always seems inexplicable to me that those who claim free will
so very boldly for man, should not also allow some free will to God. I
suppose, my brethren would not like to have to be married to somebody
whom they had not chosen, and why should Jesus Christ not have the right
to choose his own bride? Why should he not set his love where he will,
and have the right to exercise, according to his own sovereign mind,
that bestowment of his heart and hand which none could by any means
deserve? This know, that he will have his own choice whether we impugn
the doctrine or not; for he will have mercy on whom he will have mercy,
and he will have compassion on whom he will have compassion. At the same
time, I wish that those friends who believe this truth, would receive
the other, which is quite as true. We do choose Christ in return, and
that without any violation of our free agency. Some people cannot see
two truths at one time; they cannot understand that God has made all
truth to be double. Truth is many sided. While divine predestination is
true, human responsibility is also true; while it is true that Christ
chooses us, it is also true that the unrenewed mind will not choose him:
"Ye will not come unto me, that ye might have life." This is the sin
and the condemnation of man, that "light is come into the world, and men
loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil."
Settle it, however, in your minds, that when God says, "I am married
unto you," it implies that there is a blessed choice on both sides; and
so it is a true marriage.
3. Our
third reflection is, that marriage is cemented by mutual love.
Where there is not this mutual affection, it deserves not the name of
marriage. The dark shadow of a blessing they cannot realize must be a
heavy load for either heart to bear; but where there is true and genuine
love, it is the sweetest and happiest mode of living. It is one of the
blessings of paradise, which has been preserved to us after the fall.
Without love, wedded life must be a very purgatory above ground. In the
solemn contract, which has brought our souls this night to God, the
marriage is sustained, cemented, strengthened, and made delightful by
mutual love. Need I talk to you of the love of God? It is a theme we are
scarcely competent to talk of. You need to sit down and weep about it
for very joy, joy which fills the heart, and makes the eyes overflow,
but well nigh chains the tongue, for it is a deep, profound, and
inexpressible. "He loved me, and gave himself for me." "Behold, what
manner of love the Father hath bestowed u p on us." "As the Father hath
loved me, even so have I loved you. Oh, the love of God—it would surpass
the powers of an angel to set it forth. Sure, sure, it shall be the
blest employment of eternity's long ages for us to comprehend it; and,
perhaps, when myriad's of ages have rolled over our happy souls, we
shall still be as much struck with wonder with it as we were at first.
The marvel doth not diminish on inspection: familiarity cannot make it
common. The nearer we approach, the deeper our awe. It will be as great a
surprise that God should love such cold, such faithless, such unworthy
beings as ourselves, at the end of ten thousand years as it was at
first, perhaps more so. The more thoroughly we shall know ourselves, the
more fully we shall understand the good of the Lord; thus will our
wonder grow and swell. Even in heaven, we shall be lost in surprise and
admiration at the love of God to us. The rapture will augment the
reverence we feel. Well, but, brethren beloved, I trust we also love him
in return! Do you never feel one soft affection rising after another as
you muse on the Christ of God? When you sometimes listen to a sermon in
which the Savior's dear affection to you is set forth, do you not feel
that the unbidden tear wets your cheek? Does not your heart swell
sometimes, as if it were unable to hold your emotions? Is there not a
"joy unspeakable and full of glory" that comes over you? Can you not
say—
"Jesus, I love thy charming name,
'Tis music to mine ear;
Fain would I sound it out so loud
That earth and heaven should hear"?
I hope you do not need to sing to-night—
"'Tis a point I long to know."
but, I trust, that in the solemn silence of your souls you can say,
"Thou knowest that I love thee;" grieved that the question should be
asked, but still ready to answer, with Peter, "Lord, thou knowest all
things, thou knowest that I love thee." Now, it is impossible for you to
love God without the strong conclusive evidence that God loves you. I
once knew a good woman who was the subject of many doubts, and when I
got to the bottom of her doubt, it was this: she knew she loved Christ,
but she was afraid he did not love her. "Oh!" I said, "that is a doubt
that will never trouble me; never, by any possibility, because I am sure
of this, that the heart is so corrupt, naturally, that love to God
never did get there without God's putting it there." You may rest quite
certain, that if you love God, it is a fruit, and not a root. It is the
fruit of God's love to you, and did not get there by the force of any
goodness in you. You may conclude, with absolute certainty, that God
loves you if you love God. There never was any difficulty on his part.
It always was on your part, and now that the difficulty is gone from
you, none whatever remains. O let our hearts rejoice and be filled with
great delight, because the Savior has loved us and given himself for us.
So let us realize the truth of the text, "I am married unto you."
4. My
fourth observation is, that this marriage necessitates certain mutual
relations. I cannot say "duties," for the word seems out of place
on either side. How can I speak of the great God making pledges of
faithfulness? and yet with reverence, let me word it so, for in any
vocabulary I have hardly words to set it forth. When God becomes a
husband, he undertakes to do a husband's part. When he says, "Thy Maker
is thy husband," you may rest assured that he does not take the
relationship without assuming (well, I must say it) all the
responsibilities which belong to that condition. It is the part of God
to nourish, to cherish, to shield, to protect, to bless those with whom
he condescends, in infinite mercy, to enter into union. When the Lord
Jesus Christ became the husband of his church, he felt that he was under
an engagement to us, and inasmuch as there were debts incurred, he paid
them.
"Yes, said the Son, with her I'll go,
Through all the depths of sin and woe;
And on the cross will even dare
The bitter pains of death to bear."
He never shrunk from the doing of any of those loving works which belong
to the husband of his chosen spouse. He exalted the word "husband," and
made it to be more full of meaning than it had ever been before, so
that the apostle could see it glittering in a new light, and could say,
"Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ also loved the church, and
gave himself for it." Oh, yes! dear friends, there is a responsibility
arising out of this relationship, but he of whom we speak has not
departed from it; you know he has not. And now, what upon our side? The
wife has to reverence her husband, and to be subject unto him in all
things. That is precisely our position towards him who has married us.
Let his will be our will. Let his wish be our law. Let us not need to be
flogged to service, but let us say—
"'Tis love that makes our willing feet
In swift obedience move."
O Christian, if the Master condescends to say, "I am married unto you,"
you will not any longer ask, "What is my duty?" but you will say, "What
can I do for him?" The loving wife does not say, "What is my duty?" and
stand coldly questioning how far she should go, and how little she may
do, but all that she can do for him who is her husband she will do, and
everything that she can think of, every thing she can devote herself to,
in striving to please him in all things she will most certainly do and
perform. And you and I will do the same if we have realized our union
with Christ. O beloved, do not grow sentimental and waste your energies
in driveling fancies as some have done. Speak ye of a wife?—where the
family is large, the work is heavy, and the responsibility great. I
could fain remind you here, did time permit, of the words of King
Lemuel, and the prophecy that his mother taught him. Bear with me at
least while I admonish you to such a one, that the heart of thy husband
may safely trust in thee. Let it be thy care to give meat to thy
household. Lay thy hands to the spindle; suffer not thine industry to
fail; eat not the bread of idleness. Stretch out thine hand to the poor,
and reach forth both thine hands to the needy. Open thy mouth with
wisdom, and in thy tongue be the law of kindness. Yea, and consider this
with thyself, that in thy regard for all the duties of thy station,
thou art fulfilling thy bounden obligations to thy Lord. Short words,
but mighty, matchless deeds have told how Jesus loved us. Be it ours to
carve our song of love to him on the hearts of some tender nurslings who
are cast in our way, and committed to our care. O that the life I now
live in the flesh, by faith in the Son of God, might become a poem, and a
grateful response to him that loved me, and gave himself for me. I hope
we do know, then, that when God says, "I am married unto you," it
necessitates mutual relations.
5.
Fifthly, it also involves mutual confidences. How shall we call
that a marriage where the husband and wife are still two persons,
maintaining individuality as if it were a scrupulous condition of the
contract? That is utterly foreign to the divine idea. In a true
marriage, the husband and wife become one. Henceforth their joys and
their cares, their hopes and their labors, their sorrows and their
pleasures, rise and blend together in one stream. Brethren, the Lord our
God has said it, "The secret of the Lord is with them that fear him,
and he will shew them his covenant." "Judas saith unto him, not
Iscariot, Lord, how is it that thou wilt manifest thyself unto us, and
not unto the world?" There was the secret, because there is a union
between Christ and his people, which there is not between Christ and the
world. How joyously do the words sound—they have a silvery ring in
them—"Henceforth I call you not servants; for the servant knoweth not
what his lord doeth: but I have called you friends; for all things that I
have heard of my Father I have made known unto you." Christ keeps
nothing back from you. Remember another word of his: "If it were not so,
I would have told you." Oh, how delightful! He says, "I go to prepare a
place for you." He tells them that he is going to prepare a place for
them, and then he says, "If it were not so, I would have told you—I keep
no secrets back from you; you are near me, my flesh and my bones. I
left my Father's house in glory, that I might become one with you, and
manifest myself to you, and I keep back nothing from you, but reveal my
very heart and my very soul to you." Now, Christian, just see: you stand
in the relation of a spouse, and you must tell your very heart out to
Christ. No, do not go and tell it to your neighbors, nor your friends,
for, somehow or other, the most sympathizing heart cannot enter into all
our grief's. There is a grief, which the stranger cannot intermeddle
with; but there never was a pang into which Christ could not enter. Make
a confidant of the Lord Jesus—tell him all. You are married unto him:
play the part of a wife who keeps no secrets back, no trials back, no
joys back; tell them all to him. I was in a house yesterday where there
was a little child, and it was said to me, "He is such a funny child." I
asked in what way, and the mother said, "Well, if he tumbles down and
hurts himself in the kitchen, he will always go up stairs crying and
tell somebody, and then he comes down and says, "I told somebody;" and
if he is upstairs he goes down and tells somebody, and when he comes
back it is always, "I told somebody," and he does not cry any more, Ah!
well, I thought, we must tell somebody: it is human nature to want to
have sympathy, but if we would always go to Jesus, and tell him all, and
there leave it, we might often dismiss the burden, and be refreshed
with a grateful song. Let us do so, and go with all our joys and all our
troubles unto him, who says, "I am married unto you." I know the devil
will say, "Why, you must not tell the Lord your present trouble: it is
too little, and besides, you know you did wrong, and brought it upon
yourself." Well, but you would tell your husband, would you not? and
will you not tell your Lord? You could not tell a master, but you can
tell a husband. Oh! do not go back into the old legal state of calling
Christ Baali, but call him Ishi, "My man, my husband," and put that
confidence in him which it is expected that the wife should place in a
husband who dearly loves her.
6. We
must go on to a sixth point. This marriage implies fellowship in all
its relations. Whatsoever a husband possesses becomes his wife's.
She cannot be poor if he be rich; and what little she has, whatever it
may be, comes to him. If she be in debt, her debts become his. When
Jesus Christ took his people, he gave them all he had. There is nothing
which Christ has which he has not given to us. It is noteworthy that he
has given his church his own name! "Where?" say you. Well, there are two
passages in Jeremiah that most remarkably illustrate this (chap. 23:6,
and chap. 23:16). In the one it says, "This is the name whereby he shall
be called," and in the other, "This is the name wherewith she shall be
called." In both, the name is identical. "Jehovah Tsidkenu, the Lord our
righteousness." What "She shall be called"? Yes, as though he sald,
"She shall take my name, and with the name, of course, the entire open
acknowledgment of his interest in her and her interest in him. As such
she is partaker of all his glory: if he be a king, she is a queen; if he
be in heaven, "He hath raised us up together, and made us to sit in
heavenly places with him;" if he be heavenly, she also shall bear the
image of the heavenly; if he be immortal, so shall she be; and if he be
at the right hand of the Father, so shall she be also highly exalted
with him. Now, it is saying but very little when I add, that, therefore,
whatever we have, belongs to him—oh! it is so little, so very little,
but one wishes it were more. "O that Christ were not so glorious as he
is"—I have sometimes thought. It was half a wicked wish, but I meant it
well, that I might help to glorify him. O that he were still poor, that
one might ask him to a feast! O that he were still in this world, that
one could break the alabaster box of ointment and pour it on his head!
But thou art so great, most blessed Master, that we can do nothing to
increase thee! Thou art so high, we cannot exalt thee! Thou art so
happy, that we cannot bless thee! Yet, what am I saying? It is all a
mistake! He is here still. He calls every one of his people "Members of
his body;" and if you wish to enrich him, help the poor; if you want to
feed him, feed the hungry. They that bind garments about the naked, put
vestures upon the Lord himself. "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of
the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me." I hope we can
sing without falsehood that verse of Dr. Watts's:—
"And if I might make some reserve,
And duty did not call,
I love my God with zeal so great,
That I could give him all."
7. A
seventh observation, and then I shall refrain from dwelling longer on
this point. The very crown of marriage is mutual delight and
complacency. The wife of a Persian nobleman, having gone to a feast,
which was given by the great Darius, was asked by her husband whether
she did not think that Darius was the finest man in the world. No,. she
said, she did not think so; she never saw any one in the world who was
comparable to her husband. And doubtless that is just the opinion which a
husband forms of his wife and a wife of her husband where the marriage
is such as it should be. Now, certainly Christ sets a very high store
upon us. I recollect turning over that passage in Solomon's Songs,
looking at it and wondering how it could be true—believing it, and yet
not being able to comprehend it—where Christ says, "Thou art all fair,
my love; there is no spot in thee!" Oh, what eyes he must have! We say
that love is blind; but that cannot be true in Christ's case, for he
seeth all things. Why, this is how it is: he sees himself in us. He does
not see us as we are, but in his infinite grace he sees us as we are to
be, as Kent sings:—
"Not as she stood in Adam's fall,
When sin and ruin covered all;
But as she'll stand another day,
Brighter than sun's meridian ray."
The sculptor says he can see a bust in a block of marble, and that all
he has to do is to chip away the extra marble, and let the bust appear.
So Christ can see a perfect being in every one of us, if we are his
people; and what he is about with us day by day is taking off the
excrescence's, making us to be like himself. He can see us as we shall
one day be before the throne of God in heaven, without spot, or wrinkle,
or any such thing. Ah! beloved, he sets great store by us. His delights
are with the sons of men. He loves to hear our praise, and to listen to
our prayer. The songs of his people are his sweet perfume, and
communion with his people is like the beds of spices, the beds of
lilies, where he feedeth. And as for us, who are his people, I am sure
we can say that there is no delight, which can equal communion with
Christ. We have tried other delights—shame upon us!—we have tried some
of them, but after having done so, we find that there is nothing like
our Lord, "Vanity of vanity, all is vanity, saith the preacher;' but
when we come to Christ, we find no vanity there, but can say:—
"Where can such sweetness be
As I have tasted in thy love,
As I have found in thee?"
The Christian's heart is like Noah's dove: it flies over the wide waste,
and cannot rest the sole of its foot until it comes back to Christ. He
is the true Noah, who puts out his hand and takes in the weary,
buttering dove, and gives it rest. There is no peace the whole world
over but with Christ.
"There's no such thing as pleasure here,
My Jesus is my all;
As thou dost shine or disappear,
My pleasures rise or fall."
Thus
much, then, by way, as it were, of skimming the surface of this
delightful word, "I am married unto you."
II. Two
or three sentences only upon the second point. HOW FAR DO YOU AND I
EXPERIMENTALLY UNDERSTAND THIS?
I am
afraid some of you think me half crazy to-night. You are saying, "Well, I
do not comprehend this; whatever is the man talking about? God married
to us! Christ married to us! I do not comprehend it!" God have mercy
upon thee, my poor hearer, and bring thee to know it! But let me tell
thee, if thou didst but know it, there is a secret here that would make
thee a thousand times more happy than all the joys of the world can ever
make thee. Thou remindest me of the cock in the fable, who found a
diamond on the dunghill, and as he turned it over, he said, "I would
rather have found a grain of barley." That was according to his nature.
And so with you. This precious pearl of union to God will seem to be
nothing to you: a little worldly pleasure will be more to your taste.
One could weep to think there should be such ignorance of true joy and
true delight I Oh! blind eyes, that cannot see beauty in the Savior! Oh!
stone-cold hearts, that can see no loveliness in him! Jesus! they are
besotted, they are mad, who cannot love thee! It is a strange
infatuation of the sons of men to think that they can do without thee,
that they can see any light apart from thee, thou Sun of Righteousness,
or anything like beauty in all the gardens of the world apart from thee,
thou Rose of Sharon, thou Lily of the Valley! O that they knew thee!
"A thousand sorrows pierce my soul,
To think that all are not thine own."
Do I
address any to-night, who, while they pretend to be religious people,
hold loosely by their allegiance to the Lord? There are many such, and
we occasionally meet with them here. They cannot appease their
conscience without some show of profession, so they join with us as
hearers and spectators in the solemn assembly; but they never unite with
the church, because they have not devoutedly yielded up their hearts to
Christ. Ask them the reason, and their answer sounds modest, and yet
the reserve it implies is anything but chaste. Do you tell us that you
are afraid you should not walk consistently? Would it not be more true
to admit that your relationship with the world, your service of mammon,
your ordinary pastimes, and your occasional revels, harmless as you try
to persuade yourselves they are now, if viewed in the light of espousals
to Christ, most be accounted a very shame? So far as the principles of
Christianity are concerned, you endorse them with your private creed,
and you are "Protestant" enough to prefer the most evangelical
doctrines; but the reserve in your conduct is a clear index to a most
fatal reserve in your character. You might admit God to be the supreme,
but not the exclusive Lord of your heart. You would give the Lord's
altar more honor than any other altar, but still you would not remove
the high places which desecrate the land. Your opinion is that there is
no god in all the earth but the God of Israel, yet your practice is to
bow down in the house of Rimmon. You wish to have all the promises of
God vouchsafed to you, but you decidedly object to make any vows in his
sanctuary. It is to such as you that these delicate appeals are most
distasteful, "Turn, O backsliding children, saith the Lord; for I am
married unto you." Nothing in your experience responds to this. You
stand aloof as if you were aggrieved. I must warn you, therefore, that
God can be your God only in these bonds of covenant union. But,
Christian, I speak to you. Surely you know something about this, that
God is married to you? If you do, can you not say with me, "Yes, and he
has been a very faithful husband to me"? Now, there is no one of you who
can demur to that! Thus far he has been very faithful to you, and what
have you been to him? How kind and tender has he been; how faithful, how
generous, how sympathizing! In your every affliction he has been
afflicted, and the angel of his presence has saved you. Just in your
extremity he has come to your help. He has carried you through every
difficulty, even until now. Oh! you can speak well of him, can you not?
And as for his love, Christian, as for his love, what do you think of
that? Is it not heaven on earth to you? Do you not reckon it to be—
"Heaven above
To see his face, to taste his love"?
Well, then, speak well of him, speak well of him! Make this world hear
his praise! Ring that silver bell in the deaf ears of this generation!
Make them know that your Beloved is the fairest of the fair and compel
them to enquire, "O thou fairest among women, what is thy Beloved more
than another beloved?"
As for
you who do not know him, I should like to ask you this question, and do
you answer it for yourselves. Do you want to be married to Christ? Do
you wish to have him? Oh! then, there will be no difficulties in the way
of the match. If thy heart goes after Christ, he will have thee. If,
when thou gettest home to thy bedside, thou sayest to him, "Dear Savior,
here is my heart, take it, wash it, save me," he will hear thee.
Whoever thou mayst be, he will not refuse thee. Oh he seeks thee, he
seeks thee! And when thou seekest him, that is a sure sign that he has
found thee. Though thou mayst not have found him, yet he has found thee
already. The wedding-ring is ready. Faith is the golden ring, which is
the token of the marriage bond. Trust the Savior! Trust him! Have done
with trusting to thy good works. Have done with depending upon thy
merits. Take his works, his merits, and rest alone upon him, for now
doth he say unto thee, "I will betroth thee unto me for ever; yea, I
will betroth thee unto me in righteousness, and in judgment, and in
loving-kindness, and in mercies. I will even betroth thee unto me in
faithfulness: and thou shalt know the Lord." So may he do unto every one
of you, and may Christ's name be glorified forever. Amen.
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