Grace For Communion
A SHORT ADDRESS TO A FEW FRIENDS AT MENTONE, AT THE BREAKING OF BREAD,
BY C. H. SPURGEON, ON LORD'S-DAY AFTERNOON, JANUARY 2, 1887.
"Awake, O north wind, and come, you south; blow upon my garden, that
the spices thereof may flow out. Let my Belo ved come into His garden
and eat His pleasant fruits." Song of Solomon 4:16.
THE soul of the Believer is the garden of the Lord. Within it are rare
plants such as yield "spices" and "pleasant fruits." Once it was a
wilderness, overgrown with thorns and briars, but now it is "a garden
enclosed," an "orchard of pomegranates."
At times within that garden everything is very still and quiet. Indeed,
more still than could be wished. Flowers are in bloom, but they seem
scentless, for there are no breezes to waft the perfume. Spices abound,
but one may walk in the garden and not perceive them, for no gales bear
their fragrance on their wings. I do not know that, in itself, this is
an evil condition. It may be that "So He gives His beloved sleep." To
those who are worn with labor, rest is sweet. Blessed are they who
enjoy a Sabbath of the soul!
The loved one in the text desired the company of her Lord and felt that
an inactive condition was not altogether suitable for His coming. Her
prayer is first about her garden, that it may be made ready for her
Beloved, and then to the Bridegroom Himself, that He would come into
His garden and eat its pleasant fruits. She pleads for the breath of
Heaven, and for the Lord of Heaven.
First, she cries for THE BREATH OF HEAVEN to break the dead calm which
broods over her heart. She cannot unlock the caskets of spice, nor
cause the sweet odors to flow forth–her own breath would not avail for
such an end. She looks away from herself to an unseen and mysterious
power. She breathes this earnest prayer, "Awake, O north wind; and
come, you south; blow upon my garden!"
In this prayer there is an evident sense of inward sleep. She does not
mean that the north wind is asleep–it is her poetical way of
confessing that she, herself, needs to be awakened. She has a sense of
absent-mindedness, too, for she cries, "Come, you south." If the south
wind would come, the forgetful perfumes would come to themselves and
sweeten all the air. The fault, whatever it is, cannot lie in the
winds–it lies in ourselves.
Her appeal, as we have already said, is to that great Spirit who
operates according to His own will, even as the wind blows where it
wills. She does not try to "raise the wind"–that is an earthly
expression relating to worldly matters– but, alas, it might fitly be
applied to many imitations of spirituality! Have we not heard of
"getting up revivals"? Indeed, we can no more command the Holy Spirit
than we can compel the wind to blow east or west! Our strength lies in
prayer. The spouse prays, "Awake, O north wind; and come, you south!"
She thus acknowledges her entire dependence upon the free Spirit.
Although she veiled her faith in a Divine Worker under the imagery of
her song, yet she spoke as to a person. We believe in the personality
of the Holy Spirit, so that we ask Him to, "Awake" and, "Come." We
believe that we may pray to Him and we are impelled to do so.
Notice that the spouse does not mind what form the Divine visitation
takes so long as she feels its power. "Awake, O north wind." Though the
blast is cold and cutting, it may be that it will effectually fetch
forth the perfume of the soul in the form of repentance and
self-humiliation. Some precious Graces, like rare spices, naturally
flow forth in the form of tears. And others are only seen in hours of
sorrow, like gums which exude from wounded trees. The rough north wind
has done much for some of us in the way of awakening our best Graces.
Yet it may be that the Lord will send something more tender and
cheering and, if so, we would cry, "Come, you south." Divine Love
warming the heart has a wonderful power to develop the best part of a
man's nature. Many of our precious things are brought forth by the sun
of holy joy.
Either movement of the Spirit will sufficiently bestir our inner life,
but the spouse desires both. Although in nature you cannot have the
north wind and the south blowing at the same time, yet in Grace you
can. The Holy Spirit may be at one and the same time working grief and
gladness, causing humiliation and delight. I have often been conscious
of the two winds blowing at once so that while I have been ready to die
to self, I have been made to live unto God. "Awake, O north wind; and
come, you south!" When all the forms of spiritual energy are felt, no
Grace will be dormant. No flower can stay asleep when both rough and
gentle winds awaken it.
The prayer is–"blow" and the result is–"flow." Lord, if You blow, my
heart flows out to You! "Draw me, we will run after You." We know right
well what it is to have Divine Grace in our souls and yet to feel no
movement of it. We may have much faith in existence, yet none in
exercise, for no occasion summons it into action. We may have much
repentance, yet no conscious repenting. We may have much fire of love,
yet no love flaming forth–and much patience in the heart, though at
the moment we do not display it. Apart from the occurrences of
Providence, which awakens our inward emotions one way and another, the
only plan by which our Graces can be set in active exercise is by the
Holy Spirit breathing upon us! He has the power to quicken, awake and
bestir our faculties and Graces so that holy fruits within us become
perceptible to ourselves and to others who have spiritual discernment.
There are states of the atmosphere in which the fragrance of flowers is
much more diffused than at other times. The rose owes much to the
zephyr which wafts its perfume. How sweet is even a field of beans
after a shower! We may have much spice of piety and yet yield small
fragrance unless the living power of the Holy Spirit moves upon us. In
a forest there may be many a partridge, or pheasants and yet we may not
see so much as one of them until a passing foot tramples down the
underbrush and causes the birds to rise upon the wing. The Lord can
thus discover our Graces by many a messenger, but the more choice and
spiritual virtues need an agent as mysterious and all-pervading as the
wind–need, in fact, the Spirit of the Lord to awaken them!
Holy Spirit, You can come to us when we cannot come to You! From any
and every quarter You can reach us, taking us on our warm or cold side.
Our heart, which is our garden, lies open at every point to You. The
wall which encloses it does not shut You out. We wait for a visitation!
We feel glad at the very thought of it! That gladness is the beginning
of the stir–the spices are already flowing forth!
The second half of the prayer expresses our central desire–we long for
THE LORD OF HEAVEN to visit us. The bride does not seek that the spices
of her garden may become perceptible for her own enjoyment, nor for the
delectation of strangers, nor even for the pleasure of the daughters of
Jerusalem, but for her Beloved's sake. He is to come into His garden
and eat His pleasant fruits. We are a garden for His delight. Our
highest wish is that Jesus may have joy in us! I fear that we often
come to the table of communion with the idea of enjoying ourselves or,
rather, of enjoying our Lord– but we do not rise to the thought of
giving Him joy.
Possibly that might even seem presumptuous. Yet, He says, "My delights
were with the sons of men." See how joyfully He cries in the next
chapter, "I am come into My garden, My Sister, My Spouse: I have
gathered My myrrh with My spice; I have eaten My honeycomb with My
honey; I have drunk My wine with My milk." Our heavenly Bridegroom
rests in His love. He rejoices over us with singing! Often He takes
more delight in us than we do in Him. We have not even known that He
was present, but have been praying Him to come–and all the while He
has been near us!
Note well the address of the spouse to her Beloved in the words before
us. She calls Him hers–"My Beloved." When we are sure that He is ours,
we desire Him to come to us as ours and to reveal Himself as ours.
Those words, "My Beloved," are a prose poem–there is more music in
them than in all the laureate's sonnets! However slumbering my Graces
may be, Jesus is mine! It is as mine that He will make me live and
cause me to pour forth my heart's fragrance!
While He is hers, she acknowledges that she is wholly His and all that
she has belongs to Him. In the first clause she says, "Awake, O north
wind; and come, you south; blow upon my garden." But now she prays,
"Let my Beloved come into His garden." She had spoken just before of
her fruits, but now they are His fruits. She was not wrong when she
first spoke, but she is now more accurate. We are not our own. We do
not bring forth fruit of ourselves. The Lord says, "From Me is your
fruit found." The garden is of our Lord's purchasing, enclosing,
planting and watering–and all its fruit belongs to Him. This is a
powerful reason for His visiting us! Should not a man come into his own
garden and eat his own fruits? Oh, that the Holy Spirit may put us into
a fit condition to entertain our Lord!
The prayer of the spouse is–"Let my Beloved come.''" Do we not say,
"Amen, let Him come"? If He does not come in the glory of His Second
Advent at this moment, as, perhaps, He may not, yet let Him come! If
not to His Judgment Seat, yet let Him come into His garden. If He will
not come to gather before Him all nations, yet let Him come to gather
the fruit of His redemption in us! Let Him come into our little
circle–let Him come into each heart. "Let my Beloved come." Stand
back, you that would hinder Him! O my Beloved, let not my sinful,
sluggish, wandering thoughts prevent You from coming! You did visit the
disciples, "the doors being shut"–will you not come where every opened
door bespeaks Your welcome? Where should You come but to Your garden?
Surely my heart has great need of You. Many a plant within it needs
Your care. Welcome, welcome, welcome! Heaven cannot welcome You more
heartily, O my Beloved, than my heart shall now do! Heaven does not
need You so much as I do! Heaven has the abiding Presence of the Lord
God Omnipotent, but if You dwell not within my soul, it is empty and
void, and waste! Come, then, to me, I beseech You, O my Beloved!
The spouse further cries–"Let Him eat His pleasant fruits.'" I have
often felt myself overcome with the bare idea that anything I have ever
done should give my Lord pleasure. Can it be that any offering I ever
gave Him should be thought worthy of His acceptance? Or that anything I
ever felt or said should be a joy to Him? Can He perceive any perfume
in my spices, or taste any flavor in my fruits? This is a joy worth
worlds! It is one of the highest tokens of His condescension. It is
wonderful that the King from the far country should come from the Glory
Land, where all choice fruits are at their best, and enter this poor
enclosure in the wilderness–and there eat such fruits as ours–and
call them pleasant, too! O Lord Jesus, come into our hearts now! O Holy
Spirit, blow upon our hearts at this moment! Let faith, love, hope,
joy, patience and every Grace be now like violets which betray
themselves by their perfume, or like roses which load the air with
their fragrance!
Though we are not content with ourselves, yet may our Lord be pleased
with us! Do come to us, O Lord! That You are our Beloved is a greater
wonder than that You should come to us. That you have made us Your
garden is a greater favor than that You should eat our fruits. Fulfill
to us that gracious promise, "I will sup with him and he with Me," for
we do open to You. You said unto the woman of Samaria, "Give Me to
drink," and will you not, now, accept a draught of love from us? She
had no husband, but You are our Husband–will You not drink from the
cup which we now hold out to You? Receive our love, our trust, our
consecration! Delight Yourself in us, as we now delight ourselves in
You. We are asking a great thing of You, but Your love warrants large
requests. We will now come to Your table where You shall be our meat
and drink–but allow our spices to be the perfume of the feast and let
us each say, "While the King sits at His table, my spikenard sends
forth the smell thereof." Fulfill this wish of our soul, Divine Lord
and Master! Amen.