Milo

April 11

“What I tell you in the darkness, speak ye in the light.” (Matt. 10:27)

OUR Lord is constantly taking us into the dark, that He may tell us things. Into the dark of the shadowed home, where bereavement has drawn the blinds; into the dark of the lonely, desolate life, where some infirmity closes us in from the light and stir of life; into the dark of some crushing sorrow and disappointment.

Then He tells us His secrets, great and wonderful, eternal and infinite; He causes the eye which has become dazzled by the glare of earth to behold the heavenly constellations; and the ear to detect the undertones of His voice, which is often drowned amid the tumult of earth’s strident cries.

But such revelations always imply a corresponding responsibility—“that speak ye in the light—that proclaim upon the housetops.”

We are not meant to always linger in the dark, or stay in the closet; presently we shall be summoned to take our place in the rush and storm of life; and when that moment comes, we are to speak and proclaim what we have learned.

This gives a new meaning to suffering, the saddest element in which is often its apparent aimlessness. “How useless I am!” “What am I doing for the betterment of men?” “Wherefore this waste of the precious spikenard of my soul?”

Such are the desperate laments of the sufferer. But God has a purpose in it all. He has withdrawn His child to the higher altitudes of fellowship, that he may hear God speaking face to face, and bear the message to his fellows at the mountain foot.

Were the forty days wasted that Moses spent on the Mount, or the period spent at Horeb by Elijah, or the years spent in Arabia by Paul?

There is no short cut to the life of faith, which is the all-vital condition of a holy and victorious life. We must have periods of lonely meditation and fellowship with God. That our souls should have their mountains of fellowship, their valley of quiet rest beneath the shadow of a great rock, their nights beneath the stars, when darkness has veiled the material and silenced the stir of human life, and has opened the view of the infinite and eternal, is as indispensable as that our bodies should have food.

Thus alone can the sense of God’s presence become the fixed possession of the soul, enabling it to say repeatedly, with the Psalmist, “Thou art near, O God.”—F. B. Meyer.

“Some hearts, like evening primroses, open more beautifully in the shadows of life.”

11 APRIL

Filled with his fragrance

‘Thy name is as ointment poured forth.’ Song of Solomon 1:3
SUGGESTED FURTHER READING: Psalm 22:1–31

How poured forth? We read in Mark 14 that the woman brought precious ointment in a box—and when she broke the box, then and not before, the whole house was filled with its fragrance. Thus the grace and virtue of this name was confined and known but to few while our Lord conversed upon earth—but afterwards it was poured forth when he suffered. The precious vessel that contained this precious ointment was broken upon the cross—the savour of his name, his love, his blood, poured out from every wound in his sacred body. See from his head, his hands, his feet, sorrow and love flow mingling down. From that hour, it was quickly spread and diffused far and near. And here we are still to look for it. When we desire a new savour of this ointment, let us turn our eyes, our thoughts, to Golgotha. To behold him by faith as he hung bleeding and dying, with outstretched arms inviting our regards and saying, See if any sorrow was like to my sorrow. This is a sovereign balm for every wound and a cordial for our care.
FOR MEDITATION:
When on the cross, my Lord I see
Here I forget my cares and pains;
Bleeding to death, for wretched me;
I drink, yet still my thirst remains;
Satan and sin no more can move,
Only the fountain-head above,
For I am all transformed to love.
Can satisfy the thirst of love.

His thorns, and nails, pierce through my heart,
O, that I thus could always feel!
In every groan I bear a part;
LORD, more and more thy love reveal!
I view his wounds with streaming eyes,
Then my glad tongue shall loud proclaim
But see! he bows his head and dies!
The grace and glory of thy name.

Come, sinners, view the Lamb of GOD,
Thy name dispels my guilt and fear,
Wounded and dead, and bathed in blood!
Revives my heart, and charms my ear;
Behold his side, and venture near,
Affords a balm for every wound,
The well of endless life is here.
And Satan trembles at the sound.

SERMON: SONG OF SOLOMON 1:3 [4/5]

April 10th

Moral decision about sin

Knowing this, that our old man is crucified with Him, that the body of sin might be destroyed, that henceforth we should not serve sin. Romans 6:6.

Co-Crucifixion. Have I made this decision about sin—that it must be killed right out in me? It takes a long time to come to a moral decision about sin, but it is the great moment in my life when I do decide that just as Jesus Christ died for the sin of the world, so sin must die out in me, not be curbed or suppressed or counteracted, but crucified. No one can bring any one else to this decision. We may be earnestly convinced, and religiously convinced, but what we need to do is to come to the decision which Paul forces here.
Haul yourself up, take a time alone with God, make the moral decision and say—‘Lord, identify me with Thy death until I know that sin is dead in me.’ Make the moral decision that sin in you must be put to death.
It was not a divine anticipation on the part of Paul, but a very radical and definite experience. Am I prepared to let the Spirit of God search me until I know what the disposition of sin is—the thing that lusts against the Spirit of God in me? Then if so, will I agree with God’s verdict on that disposition of sin—that it should be identified with the death of Jesus? I cannot reckon myself “dead indeed unto sin” unless I have been through this radical issue of will before God.
Have I entered into the glorious privilege of being crucified with Christ until all that is left is the life of Christ in my flesh and blood? “I am crucified with Christ; nevertheless I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me.”

April 10

“Show me wherefore thou contendest with me.” (Job 10:2)

PERHAPS, O tried soul, the Lord is doing this to develop thy graces. There are some of thy graces which would never have been discovered if it were not for the trials. Dost thou not know that thy faith never looks so grand in summer weather as it does in winter? Love is too oft like a glowworm, showing but little light except it be in the midst of surrounding darkness. Hope itself is like a star—not to be seen in the sunshine of prosperity, and only to be discovered in the night of adversity. Afflictions are often the black folds in which God doth set the jewels of His children’s graces, to make them shine the better.

It was but a little while ago that, on thy knees, thou wast saying, “Lord, I fear I have no faith: let me know that I have faith.”

Was not this really, though perhaps unconsciously, praying for trials?—for how canst thou know that thou hast faith until thy faith is exercised? Depend upon it. God often sends us trials that our graces may be discovered, and that we may be certified of their existence. Besides, it is not merely discovery; real growth in grace is the result of sanctified trials.

God trains His soldiers, not in tents of ease and luxury, but by turning them out and using them to forced marches and hard service. He makes them ford through streams, and swim through rivers and climb mountains, and walk many a weary mile with heavy knapsacks on their backs. Well, Christian, may not this account for the troubles through which you are passing? Is not this the reason why He is contending with you?—C. H. Spurgeon.

To be left unmolested by Satan is no evidence of blessing.

10 APRIL

A distinguishing savour

‘Thy name is as ointment poured forth.’ Song of Solomon 1:3
SUGGESTED FURTHER READING: Isaiah 61:1–3

Ointments were used in feasts (Luke 7:46; hence Psalm 23:5), and the name of Jesus is a precious banquet to the believing soul. This fills him as with marrow and fatness; this puts an honour and a beauty upon him; therefore (verse 4) more than wine.
Precious ointments have a savour, a perfumed smell, which distinguishes the person that bears them. So this ointment of the name of Jesus, when poured into a believer’s heart, it makes him smell as a field which the Lord has blessed. It is this communication of grace and holiness which they have received from their beloved which makes them known to each other and distinguishes them from the world.
Who have a right to the bread and wine? Even all those who see the value and long to know more of the virtue of this ointment. Fear not, ye who seek Jesus, but come. Are you wounded? Are you fainting? Let not this keep you away, but rather constrain you. You cannot do without it.

FOR MEDITATION:
By Thee my prayers acceptance gain
Although with sin defiled;
Satan accuses me in vain
And I am owned a child.

Yes, dear Mrs Barham is gone home. She lived honourably and died peaceably. Were I to preach a funeral sermon, I should say but little about her; but I would make the people stare, if I could, by telling them what a wonderful Friend she had; one who paid all her debts, and was so attentive to her that his eye was never off her by night or day for a long number of years; one who, by looking at her, could sweeten her pains, renew her strength, and fill her with wisdom, grace and peace. She is gone to see her best Friend; and I hope, one day to see her with him.92
John Newton to William Bull, 13 October 1781

SERMON: SONG OF SOLOMON 1:3 [3/5]