"Return, Return, O Shulamite; Return, Return!"
(No. 1794)
Delivered on Lord's-Day Morning, August 10th, 1884, by
C. H. SPURGEON,
At the [2]Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington
"Return, return, O Shulamite; return, return, that we may look upon
thee. What will ye see in the Shulamite? As it were the company of two
armies."Solomon's Song 6:13.
THE TRANSLATION INTO THE WORD "Shulamite" is unhappy: it is unmusical,
and misses the meaning. The Hebrew word is a feminine of "Solomon."
"Solomon" may stand for the bridegroom's name, and then the
well-beloved bride takes her husband's name in a feminine form of it,
which is Shulamith, Salome, or perhaps better "Solyma." The King has
named his name upon her, and as Caius has his Caiia, so Solomon has his
Solyma. He is the Prince of Peace, and she is the Daughter of Peace.
Aforetime she was called "the fairest among women," but now she is
espoused unto her Lord, and has a fullness of peace. Therefore is she
called the Peace-laden, or the Peace-crowned. You know how truly it is
so with the justified in Christ Jesus. Because the sound is sweeter,
and the sense is clearer, permit me to read the text thus"Return,
return, O Solyma: return, return, that we may look upon thee. What will
ye see in Solyma? As it were the company of two armies." May the Holy
Spirit, like a dove, rest upon us while we linger amid the verses of
this Song of Loves.
A soul redeemed by blood, and brought by the Holy Spirit into loving,
living, lasting union with the Well-Beloved, cannot remain unnoticed.
Solomon is known all over the world; Solomon is sought after for his
wisdom, and therefore Solyma will shine with something of his
brightness, and she will be enquired after too. In the Church of God no
man liveth unto himself, or travelleth through the world unwatched. If
you are interested in Christ, heaven and earth and hell will be
interested in you. Some man are but as a chip in the porridge; they
have no savor in themselves, and none comes from them; but the
believing man, the Christ-communing man, is full of influences both
repellent and attractive, and he may be sure that where he comes he
will be known and read. As the house of Israel is among the nations
like a burning torch in dry stubble, so also are the spiritual Israel.
Voices will cry after the bride of Christ, "Return! Return! Return!
Return!" A pilgrim bound for the Celestial City cannot go through the
world, even through the worst part of it, such as Vanity Fair, without
being noticed, and questioned, and sought after, and if possible
ensnared. Do not think, thou who hast been made a living man by the
quickening of the Holy Ghost, that thou canst glide through this world
as the spiritually dead can do, for they may be quietly borne along to
the place of corruption: the life within thee is too strange, too
operative to be overlooked. Thou art a wonder unto many, and thou
mayest well be so, for God hath wrought great marvels in thee and for
thee. Beloved, ye are the Lord's witnesses, and witnesses must not
skulk away in the background or remain dumb. When they bear their
honest witness it is in open court, where they will be heard and
regarded by all who are concerned in the suit, whether pro or con. Oh,
saints of God, you are never unobserved, you are compassed about with a
great cloud of witnesses, and none of these witnesses are indifferent
to you: they all watch you with steady gaze to see how you run your
race. The good are intent that you should so run as to obtain; and
there are evil ones who long for your defeat. Solyma is addressed by
urgent voices, who plead with her to return to them. For good or evil,
multitudes of tongues cry to her, "Return, return, O Solyma, return,
return."
Will you kindly notice from the connection of my text what state Solyma
was in when these calls came to her? She was in her glory and beauty.
In admiration the question is asked, "Who is she that looketh forth as
the morning, fair as the moon, clear as the sun, and terrible as an
army with banners?" A church or an individual Christian in a low state
of grace may escape observation. Who cares about a dead church? Who
fights with a lukewarm people? But if Jesus Christ be in the church, or
in the heart, he will soon be seen. The evangelist tells us, "he could
not be hid." You may slip down the street in the night without a
candle, and like a thief you may pass by unobserved, but if the Lord
has lighted your candle, and you bear it with you, the watchmen will
notice you, the dogs will bark at you, and others will spy you out. As
fire reveals itself, so also will grace. A bundle of lavender proclaims
its own whereabouts by its fragrance, and so does the life of God in
the soul. You may be sure that if the Lord of Hosts is with you, and in
you, you will assuredly arouse the animosity of some, and the
admiration of others. I pray that you and I may be in a bright, clear,
forcible condition, as the bride was in this part of the Canticle, then
shall we be sought after, and enquired about.
It appears that the church in her beauty had gone down to attend to her
work. "I went down into the garden of nuts to see the fruits of the
valley, and to see whether the vine flourished, and the pomegranates
budded." She did not sit down in the house to admire herself, nor go
into the street to show herself: she went down into her Lord's garden
to attend to her proper work, and then it was that they cried, "Return,
return." Neither the world nor Christ himself will call much after us
if we go forth to make displays of our own excellences. "Come, see my
zeal for the Lord of Hosts," is a wretched piece of self-consciousness,
which disgusts more than it attracts. A diligent life is an attractive
life. Do thou, like an ant, work in thy season, carrying thy due burden
upon the ant-hill, and if thou doest this for love of Jesus thou doest
nobly. Plod on without courting approbation, and rest content to do
thine utmost for the common weal. In fellowship with thy Lord humbly do
thy day's work in thy day. Seek not great things for thyself. Ask not
to rule in the court, but be willing to work in the field, seek not to
recline on the couch, but take thy pruning-knife, and go forth among
the vines, to fulfill thine office, and in that self-forgetting service
thy beauty shall be manifested, and voices shall salute thee, crying,
"Return, return."
It appears, too, that while she was thus engaged, she was the subject
of a great stir and emotion of heart. Perhaps she had felt dull and
dreary till she entered on her work, but while she was busy with her
pomegranates and her nuts, she cries, "Or ever I was aware, my soul
made me like the chariots of Amminadib." She felt that she could hasten
like the chariots of a willing people, who rush to the fight from love
of their prince. She felt as if she could run after her Beloved: she
could leap, she could fly. Like a chariot that is drawn by Pharaoh's
swiftest coursers, her spirit left all behind. Thus vigorous and
active, she was watched by many eyes, and soon she heard voices coming
from the four quarters of the universe, crying, "Return, return, O
Shulamith; return, return." I would, dear friends, that all Christians
were what they should be. I am told, but I would not judge, that large
numbers of professing people are only half alive, and are altogether
asleep. If it be so, I wonder not that they are so inconsiderable in
their influence. If they are neither diligent in their Master's
business, nor fervent in spirit towards him, they are justly despised
by those about them. If it be so with you, my brethren, you are losing
the joy of Christian life when you might be filled with delight; you
are poverty-stricken, where you might be rich; you are as beggars in
the city where you are entitled to take up an honorable burgess-ship.
May the Lord revive you! May he forgive your coldness, and set your
souls on fire with love to Jesus! If you have life, may you now have it
more abundantly! Doth not your Master desire that the feeblest of you
may be as David, and David as the angel of the Lord?
I speak to you who are the beloved of the Lord, to you who labor in
holy service, to you who are quickened with a high degree of spiritual
life, and feel your souls within you stirred with sacred enthusiasm.
You are worth addressing: may the Holy Spirit make my address worthy of
your attention! Let us use our text in two ways; may each one be
profitable!
First, she hears the lower voices that cry, "Return, return, O Solyma
return, return," and she answers them with most conclusive negatives.
Read the text another way, and in the second place, she hears voices
from above, which cry, "Return, return, O Solyma: return, return," and
she answers them by her actions as well as by her words.
I. Let us listen for a minute or two, but only with our ears, not with
our hearts, to THE LOWER VOICES. Whence come these voices? There are
voices from the vasty deep of sin and hell, voices from the tombs which
we have quitted, voices from the Egypt from which we have fled. They
are crying evermore, like unquiet ghosts, "Return, return." Especially
do they call to young souls, who are newly wedded to Jesus, in the hope
that they have not as yet forgotten their own kindred and their
father's house. When we have gone a long way in the divine life, the
world feels dubious of our return, and almost gives us up, preferring
rather to accuse than to invite. After many years of faithful service,
and of resolute nonconformity to the world, many temptations which
assaulted our youth are unknown to our maturity. The devil is not
altogether a fool, although he is great in that direction; and
therefore he does not continue for ever to use nets which have failed
to entangle the birds. If he finds that cajolery will not ensnare us,
he leaves his old tactics and tries other methods. When "Return,
return" will not woo us, he puts on his lion form, and roars till the
mountains shake. Upon young believers he very commonly uses very
powerful inducements to go back. In the hope that he is dealing with
Mr. Pliable, he exhibits the hardness of godliness and the pleasantness
of sin, and draws the moral that they had better retrace their steps.
To them he calls as sweetly as his cruel voice can tone itself,
"Return, return, O Shulamith: return, return."
By old companions he does this. They say, "You have left us all, we do
not know why. You have turned a fanatic; you have joined with gloomy
Christian people, and you are not half the good fellow you used to be.
Are you not getting a little tired of those dreary ways? Are not the
rules of Christ too precise and Puritanic? Are not the ways of God too
self-denying? Is not godliness too holy and too heavenly for poor
fallible beings like ourselves? If so, the door is open: we will
welcome you back. It is true you rent yourself away and said that you
must needs go on pilgrimage to the Celestial City, but we will not
throw this in your teeth if you will give up such nonsense. Come, be a
good fellow with us once more. We have not drunk up all the wine, nor
broken all the viols. We are care-for-nothings still, and we shall be
glad to make you as light-hearted as ourselves. You were a jolly fellow
before you took those blues, and turned so squeamish: Come, shake it
off, and be yourself again." How winningly they put it! How cleverly
they mimic the tones of true friendship! One would think they sought
our good, and were anxious to be our guardian angels.
Sometimes the desires of nature come to their help, and the tender
passion is enlisted on the side of evil. Bright eyes and gentle lips
speak to the natural heart, and plead with it to return. The tender
love of women has thus played the tempter, and so has the strong
affection of men. Courtesy and amiability cry, "Why do you fight so shy
of us? You know what happy times we used to have together. Come, you
have tried these Christian people and their faith; you must have found
it very moping and melancholy: return and be merry once more. See how
much more free we are than they, do not live by rule and order; return
to the liberty of sin." Thus do her former comrades cry, "Return,
return, O Solyma."
The old joys sometimes, in moments of weakness which will come upon us,
revive upon the memory, and attempt to mislead us. I have known the
young Christian remember what he once thought were joys, and though he
has clean left them, and hates them, yet in the distance which lends
enchantment he does not notice so much of their shallowness, baseness,
and brevity, and he thinks to himself, "In those days I laughed away
the hours right merrily; life was light as a feather; in its froth and
foam I saw rainbows of delight. Shall I try these things again? Was I
not too hasty in renouncing them?" All the while the voices cry
enchantingly, like the songs of the Sirens, "Return, return, O Solyma;
return, return." They bring out their most melodious music, and omit
all discordant passages from the sonnet of life. They would have us
hark back to what was once our joy. Oh, brothers, 'tis a wretched
temptation, and yet some fall before it.
Do you not know how the world will even call us back to our old cares?
We used to fret and worry until by God's grace we were led to try
walking by faith, and then the Lord helped us to rest in his love, and
wait patiently for him, and now perhaps for years we have had no
burdens, for we have cast them on the Lord: we have gone in the
morning, and told him the fears of the day, and at night we have had
little else to do but to bless him for the mercy which has averted all
those fears. We have lived in sweet content, rich in joyful
expectation, and not poor even in present felicity; and now perhaps the
world says, "You have spent too much of your money on religion; why did
you not save it? You wasted a mint of your time upon furthering a
kingdom which is imaginary. Oh, if you had given up those energies to
the world, and stuck to your business, how much richer you might have
been! Come now, quit those dreams, shall those prayer-meetings, leave
that tiresome office in the Sunday-school, give up philanthropic
speculations, and follow after your personal interests, like a sensible
man, you may get on then, if you mind the main chance you may rise in
the social scale." There are times when steady, sober people, for whom
the temptations of gaiety and vice have no charm at all, stand
spell-bound by these more solid but equally degrading offers. Madame
Bubble, as you know, offereth to the pilgrim her person, and there are
many who turn with loathing from so vile a proffer; but then she also
offereth her purse, and there are men like Mr. Standfast, who are as
poor as an owlet, to whom that offer comes with dangerous force. Her
voice has a shrill metallic ring, as she cries, "Return, return, O
Solyma; return, return. Return from generosity to selfishness, from
holy zeal to worldliness and prudence. Seek that which all the nations
of the world seek after; that which thou canst see with thine eyes, and
enjoy with thy mouth." Many are these calls: I need not go into
details, you will hear them soon enough. The Sirens are a numerous and
ensnaring sisterhood.
When do these voices come? Their sound is heard full often. "Return,
return, return, return,"four times over the text hath it. They come so
often that the word in the epistle to the Hebrews is more than
justified, "And truly, if they had been mindful of that country from
whence they came out, they might have had opportunity to have
returned." These opportunities come in our way everywhere, and at all
times. If you wish to leave off being a Christian, if you wish to
follow the world in its pleasures or in its labors, the doors are
always open. It is a wonderfully forgiving world if you will but quit
your protest against it. If we run away from our old master, and wish
to return to his service, his yoke is always ready for our neck, he
will never deny us employment, even though it be to feed swine. Only
too glad is the devil to pardon runaways. He is not ashamed to return
with seven others to the house which he aforetime quitted. Often, often
the child of God in his early days hears the entreaties of destroyers,
as with all subtlety they plead, "Return, return, O Bride of Solomon;
return, return."
At times these voices come from quarters to which our hearts lie open
Many a man hath been wooed from the ways of holiness by her that lay in
his bosom. Samson had his Delilah. Oftener still, the professing
Christian woman has been solicited to forsake her Lord by him who
should have helped her in her noblest aspirations. Children have been
misled by parents, friends by friends, for Satan hath many servitors,
and many who do his bidding almost unwittingly. It is a fight to reach
to heaven, and few there be to help us in it, but the path to hell is
downward, and multitudes thrust out their hands to urge us to the
infernal deeps. These cries are borne to us by every gale, in tones
both loud and gentle, "Return, return."
And, dear brethren, we shall find that they solicit us in our best
moments. I cannot fully account for the fact, but so it is, that I am
most liable to speak unadvisedly with my lips when I have just enjoyed
the raptures of high fellowship with God. Yonder shines the Mountain of
Transfiguration in its unrivalled splendor, but lo, at the very foot of
it the devil rages in the lunatic child! Our highest graces are not to
be basted, for, as the most venomous serpents lurk among the brightest
flowers, so are temptations most abundant hard by our most spiritual
and heavenly joys. Trust not thyself, O child of God, when thou hast
seen the invisible, when thou hast stood within the circle of fire, and
spoken with God as only his favourites may! Think not thyself secure
when thou comest down into thy worldly business, though thou hast
bathed thy forehead in the serene light of communion. As pirates
distinctly aim to attack the most heavily-laden galleons, so will Satan
assail thee when thy vessel has just left the Gold Coast of meditation
and prayer. Therefore, watch thou, and pray evermore. That detestable
voice, which dared to ask the Master himself to fall down and worship
Satan, will come to thee when thou art most bright and shining with the
glory of hallowed fellowship, and it will whisper to thee, "Return,
return. Come down from the mount, and break the commandments to shivers
at its foot." The fiend will call thee Solyma, quoting thy heavenly
namethat name of peace and loveand yet he will dare to say, "Return,
return." He will flatter us for our virtues, and yet tempt us to the
worst of vices. Get thee behind me, Satan. Avaunt, foul fiend! Even
when repulsed he will return to the charge, crouch at our feet, and
whine out still, "Return, return." The treasures of Egypt, and the
pleasures of sin, are his bait and bribe. We cannot and will not return
at his bidding, yet his frequent solicitation puts us to a stand, and
makes us cry for help.
Notice that our text goes on to say why they wish us to return.
"Return, return, that we may look upon thee." And is that all? Am I to
be a traitor to my Lord, and quit his holy ways, and forfeit heaven, to
be made a show of by thee, O Satan? or by thee, O world? Is this a full
reward for treachery"that we may look upon thee?" Why, their looks are
daggers. As the eyes of basilisks are the eyes of the ungodly world; as
malignant stars that blast the soul. Whenever you long for ungodly men
to see your piety, your piety will wither beneath their glance.
Remember how that expression of looking upon Zion is sometimes used in
Scripture; in Micah 4:11 we have it"Now also many nations are gathered
against thee, that say, Let her be defiled, and let our eye look upon
Zion." They wished to spy out her sorrows and weaknesses, that they
might jest at her, and grieve her: these enemies will do the same with
you if you give them the opportunity. Trust a wolf at your throat
sooner than worldly men in religious matters. They cannot mean you
good, nor do you good should they mean it. They will draw you out and
then expose you, they will entice you into sin and then report your
faults. When the world loves the holy man it is the love of the vulture
for the sick lamb. Fear you the worldling, even when he bears you
gifts.
Now hear Solyma's wise answer to her tempters. She says, "What will ye
see in Solyma?" Dost thou ask me, O world, to come back and show myself
to be thy friend? Dost thou promise me approbation? Dost thou vow to
look upon me, and admire me, and take me for an example? What is there
in me that thou canst approve of? What wilt thou see in Solyma? What
can the world see in a believer? The world knoweth us not, because it
knew Christ not. A blind man wants to see me: I need not go far to
oblige him, for he will get but little out of it if I yield to his
request. What a vain reason,"That we may look upon thee"! They are so
blind they cannot even see themselves, nor know that they are blind.
What have you and I to do with them? No, let us walk in the light, and
have fellowship with God, and then our life shall be hid with Christ in
God, only to be manifested when our Lord is manifested; and we shall be
well content to have it so. Listen, O blind world, while we tell you
what you would see if we did come to you. "What will ye see in Solyma?"
You would seewe grieve to say ita conflict within us: "As it were the
company of two armies." You would see two things in us; and yet neither
would give you satisfaction. There is sin in us, but inasmuch as it
grieves us to have it there we will not show it you. We do not wish to
make mirth for the daughter of Babylon, and when her children ask us to
make music for them by singing one of the songs of Zion, we answer,
"How shall we sing the Lord's song in a strange land?" If we must tell
you what you would see in us, we will confess our faultiness, but warn
you that out of this you would get but little joy. You would see two
armies, it is true, but neither of them would yield to you. You would
see in us a nature like your own; but it is mortified, kept under, and
laid under condemnation. It would give you no great pleasure to see it,
for we reckon it to be dead. The dead are poor company. There is in us,
it is true, a capacity for all your worldly joys; but the world is
crucified to us, and we are crucified unto the world. There is in us a
capacity for all your merriment, but if we were forced to be with you
we should be dreadful killjoys to you; you would wonder that we did not
laugh when you laugh at sin, and that we should not be as ready as you
are to run into excess of riot. We should soon weary you, for the Lord
has said, "I will make Jerusalem a burdensome stone for all people."
You would say by and by, "Let these slow souls begone: they hinder our
mirth." If we came among you as we are, it would happen with us ere
long, as it did with Israel, for "Egypt was glad when they departed."
Our nature that is like your nature is put under restraint, and dies
daily, and its expiring groans would be sorry music in your ears.
Then, do you know we have another army in us? That is, there is a new
life in us, that life is the indwelling Spirit of God, as it is
written, "I will dwell in them, and walk in them." If we did return at
your request, if we came in the fullness of the blessing of the Gospel
of Christ, with the Holy Spirit indwelling our bodies, and making them
his temples, you would not know what to make of us, and consequently
you would scoff at us, as Ishmael did at Isaac, or envy us as his
brethren envied Joseph. You would be sure to ridicule us, for you would
not understand us, and therefore you would count us hypocrites and
sanctimonious fools. As well might oxen commune with men as the wicked
with the godly. We have a life beyond you and above you, into which you
cannot enter. We are sorry for you that you will not receive the
heavenly life which is in Christ Jesus, but as you have it not, we
cannot make you our confidants or associates. You would grieve us, and
we should provoke you; and therefore we are best apart. You say,
"Return, return, O Solyma; return, return, that we may look upon thee,"
and our only answer must be, "What would ye see in Solyma?" Nothing but
that which would rebuke and anger you: you would see a company of two
armies, both fighting against you.
Come, young brothers and sisters, you that have been tempted to go
back, you cannot even tolerate the thought. You have burned your boats
behind you, and must conquer or die. Like one of old, you say, "I have
opened my mouth unto the Lord, and I cannot go back." To go back were
to give the lie to the word of God, to make God himself false, to tell
the worldling that there are, after all, no pleasures in Christ like
the pleasures of the world; it would be to spit in your Savior's face,
to play the Judas, to sell Christ for pieces of money, or for the
filthy lusts of this present evil world. Go back! It were to renounce
heaven and all its glories, it were to choose a terrible death-bed,
with a guilty conscience ringing the knell of your soul; it were to
choose eternal banishment from the presence of God, and from the glory
of his power. You cannot return, you cannot even look back. If thou art
a true Shulamith, thou wilt not even deliberate for a moment about it,
but flinging thyself into the Beloved's arms, thou wilt cry, "Lord, to
whom should I go? Thou hast the words of eternal life." God help you so
to do, for Jesus' sake. That is the first part of our subject.
II. Now we turn to listen, not with our ears only, but with our hearts
too, to the call of THE HIGHER VOICES which cry, "Return, return."
Brethren, to go to heaven, to go to Christ, to go towards holiness, is
a return to God's people: for God's people are originally his children.
Though they are prodigals, and have gone into a far country, they
always were his children; even when they spent their substance in
riotous living they were still his sons, and each of them could speak
of "My Father's house." To come to Christ, and holiness, and hearer, is
to return. Besides, all God's people have a new life put into them.
Whence came that new life but from heaven and God? Therefore to go
towards God is for the quickened ones to return. All God's, people are
bound for heaven; it is in their charter-party that they should sail
for heaven, and therefore to heaven they must go. When the Israelites
came out of Egypt to go to Canaan they were not going to a strange
land, they were returning to what had always been their inheritance
according to the covenant; they were going out of the house of bondage,
and they were returning to the land that flowed with milk and honey,
where their fathers had sojourned before them. Now, today, as a child
of God, I can hear voices out of the yet beyond, ringing out of the
glory, and crying to me, "Return, return." My Father is in heaven, my
Savior is on the throne; many brethren have gone before; all my heart
is with my treasure, therefore I hear the shining ones crying to me
every day, "Return, return, O Solyma; return return!" Every harp in the
heavenly choir is ringing out an invitation to all the Lord's beloved,
every palm-bearing hand is beckoning to us; every glorified lip is
calling us to come up higher.
To return, I think, means this,come nearer to Christ, nearer to God,
nearer to holiness. You are saved; seek to be like your Savior. You did
enjoy splendid days at first, in the love of your espousals; return to
them; walk always in the light as God is in the light. You were once in
the banqueting-house, and the banner over you was love: return to that
house of fellowship. Every day seek to lose yourself more in Christ, to
live more completely in him, by him, for him, with him. Return, return,
to greater heights of holiness, to deeper self-denial, to braver
service, to intenser love, to more burning zeal, to more of the Godlike
and the Christlike. Return, return. The holiest and the best call us
that way. Every saint in heaven cries, "Return"; every child of God on
earth who is full of the inner life entreats us to return, and chiefly,
that dear voice, which once for us cried, "My God, my God, why hast
thou forsaken me?" is always calling to us, "Return, return." Oh, how
sweetly doth he use the name himself did give us, our marriage name!
Hear him beseech us, "O Solyma, my best beloved, return, return, and
come to me!" These are the higher voices.
Notice that in the text that word "return" is put four times over. Is
it not because it is of the highest importance that every child of God
should keep returning, and coming nearer to the Father's house? Is it
not because it is our highest joy, our strongest security, our best
enrichment, to be always coming to Christ as unto a living stone, and
getting into closer fellowship with him? As he calls four times, is it
not a hint that we are slow to come? We ought to come to Jesus not only
at his first call, but even at the glances of his eyes, when he looks
as though he longed for our love: it ought to be our rapture to think
only of him, and live wholly to him; but as we fail to answer to first
pleas, he cries four times, "Return, return, O Solyma; return, return.
Come to thine own Husband, thine own loving Lord." He ceases not to
entreat until we do return. Do not the reduplications of this call hint
at his strong desire after us, his condescending love for us? It does
seem so wonderful to me that Christ should want our fellowship, but he
does: he cannot be happy without us. Still he sitteth down upon the
well when he is thirsty, and looking across to Samaria's fallen
daughter he says to her, "Give me to drink." His people are his
fullness; he cannot be filled if they are away: I dared not have said
this if the Holy Ghost had not declared it, but it is true. Without his
people Jesus would be a Head without a body, and that is a ghastly
object; a King without subjects, and that would have been a wretched
parody of royalty, a Shepherd without sheep, and that would have been a
dolorous office having many pains but no reward. Jesus must have us, or
he is a Bridegroom without a bride, bereaven and barren. Oh, how he
loves us! How he longs for communion with us! Shall he stand and cry,
"Return, return," and will we not come to him at once? Hear him again
in another way. He knocks at our door and he cries, "Open to me, my
sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled: for my head is filled with dew,
and my locks with the drops of the night." Will we not admit him? If he
seeks our company, and therefore calls us to return, our spirit bursts
her fetters, she is ashamed of the bonds that hold her on the right and
on the left. She cries "Let me go; I must be with my Lord; his voice
compels me. My soul would leap out of the body rather than not come at
him who cries, 'Return, return, return, return.'"
I have shown you why the call is so oft repeated. Do you not think it
is a very instructive call? Permit me to put it thus: "Return," that
is, to your first simple faith. If you have risen to greatness of
conceit and pride of knowledge, return to your humble thoughts. Shrink
to nothing again in the presence of your God. Come to the cross as you
came at first, saying,
"I the chief of sinners am,
But Jesus died for me."
Return to your first loving intercourse with Christ, for then the days
were only bright with his presence, and the night watches were not
weary while you could commune with him. Return to the happy love of
thine espousals, when thou wentest after him into the wilderness, for
those were halcyon days. Return, return, to your first ardor in
service. Nothing was too hot, or too heavy for you then; you were
impetuous to be engaged in seeking his redeemed. You have grown lazy
now, and you think service for God too severe a strain upon you. Return
to your first diligence in joyous service. Return also to your
eagerness for holy growth. Then you desired to have the best that God
could give you: in those days you resolved to be a thorough Christian;
not barely to live, but to live unto God in the highest degree. Return
unto that, and aspire after more. If you have left the best form of
consecration, return to it. Oh, sea, rise once more to high-water mark,
if thou hast turned to ebb! Oh, soul, come back to the highest thou
hast ever attained or longed for! As the eagle cries, "higher"; as the
river crieth, "fuller"; as the day crieth, "brighter"; so let it be
with thee. Thou art married to him whose blood has bought thee, and he
cannot, will not be in heaven without thee; therefore, hasten to obey
while he saith to thee, "Return, return!"
I beg you to observe what the spouse has to say to this when she is
thus called upon to return to the Lord. The Lord saith to her," Return,
return, that we may look upon thee." Is not that a reason for coming
back? The Lord says, "that I may look upon thee." He desires your
society, and seems gently to hint that you have kept aloof from him. He
seems to say,"You have not been much with me alone lately, you have
neglected the reading of the word, and the hearing of it; I have
scarcely seen thy face; therefore return, that I may look upon thee."
Cover your face and say, "Lord, why shouldst thou look on me? I am full
of sin", but then draw near to him, that his look of love may bring
thee to repentance, and cause thy sin to pass away. Remember he hath
power in his eyes to look thee into purity and beauty. Come and say,
"took upon me, Lord; search me, try me, and know my ways." Return, that
with infinite pity thy Beloved may see what aileth thee, and then with
his dear pierced hand may perform a divine surgery upon thee, and make
thee well again.
"Return, that we may look upon thee." I think I may use the phrase to
express also that intense satisfaction which Jesus has in every
believer. With what pleasure the mother looks upon her child: she
remembereth no more the travail for joy that a man is born into the
world, but with infinitely greater satisfaction doth Christ see of the
travail of his soul in every believer. You ought to show yourselves to
Jesus, you have cost him so much: he has loved you even to the death,
and loves you still, you ought to abide with him. Return to him that he
may look upon you.
And I think, too, when we live near to him, and get into fellowship
with him, Jesus feels a sweet complacency towards us. O dear parents,
you know the pleasure you have in your loving children; if they have
been away from you for years, what a satisfaction it is again to see
them within your doors; there is no sight like it! Your Lord loves you
so much that it gives him profound pleasure, it swells his heaven to
the brim to see you living in his love. What must be his grief when you
go fussing about the world, and have no time to talk with him. When you
go out sporting and mixing with his enemies, and say that you have no
leisure to commune with him! You give delight to him who is Immanuel,
God with us, when you frequently approach him, or constantly abide with
him. You make him glad with your secret devotion, your heart's
affection, your holy boldness, your all-absorbing zeal. Oh, do come to
your Lord that he may look upon you!
Did I hear you bashfully say, "What will ye see in Solyma? If Jesus
looks on such a dead dog as I am, what will he see in me? I am so full
of evil." He will see in you that which delights him. He will see his
own work there; yea, he will see himself there. Did you never see the
sun reflected in a little splinter of glass? The mirror was scarcely an
inch in diameter, yet you saw the heavens in it. Have you never looked
upon a bubble blown by a school-boy's pipe, and seen a thousand
rainbows in it? When the Lord looks on his people, he sees the
reflection of himself: he can see himself in our eyes, and therefore
those eyes charm him so that he cries, "Thou hast ravished my heart, my
sister, my spouse; thou hast ravished my heart with one of thine eyes,
with one chain of thy neck." The infinite love there is between Christ
and us makes him see no sin in Jacob, neither iniquity in Israel, but
he looks until he exclaims, "Thou art all fair, my love, there is no
spot in thee." Be not ashamed to return to your Lord, for he lovingly
urges thee to do so. Let your heart and your flesh, like two armies,
welcome him, let all your inward conflict aim at coming nearer to him.
Rest not till, like Jacob's two bands, you are altogether under the
blessing of the covenant angel.
I will turn my text about a little, and give you another rendering,
which will suit the heart which is welcoming its Lord. Our Mahanaim,
our meeting of hosts, shall not be for war, now that the Lord invites
us, like Jacob to return to the land of milk and honey; but the
companies shall be as musical as they are martial. There are within our
experiences companies of singing soldiers, choirs of camps. The text
exhibits the warring soul, triumphant in her Lord, and meeting him with
timbrel and harp.
"Spouse of Christ, in arms contending
Though thy battle-course must run;
Yet with prayers for help ascending,
Shout thy praise for triumphs won."
Oh, if my Lord will come and meet me, he shall see in me whole choirs
of songsters! My heart, like Miriam, shall take a timbrel, and all my
powers, like the daughters of Israel, shall follow, dancing and singing
with glad accord. On the high-sounding cymbals my heart shall play,
singing,"His own right hand and his holy arm have gotten him the
victory. Glory! Glory! Where he cometh glory dwelleth." When shall I
come into his presence, and behold my God, my exceeding joy? Then will
I praise him with body and soul, with heart and with voice. His coming
with all his perfections, and my coming with all my desires, shall make
a Mahanaim, and the two hosts, once met, shall encamp together,
guarding the King's pavilion, which glitters in the midst. Then shall
the warriors become minstrels, and the soldiers shall be singers, as in
the valley of Berachah, where all the people triumphed, and they
returned to Jerusalem playing upon harps, and psalteries, and trumpets.
Here I leave you in the joyful presence of the King. We cannot cease
speaking at a higher point. The Lord keep us in his presence, for his
love's sake. Amen.
PORTION OF SCRIPTURE READ BEFORE SERMONJohn 21.
HYMNS FROM "OUR OWN HYMN BOOK"917,779,853.