FOREVER WITH THE LORD
The Clouds Of The Christian, The Chariot Of God
“Who maketh the clouds his chariot” (Psalm l04:3).
If God were perfectly comprehensible in his being and government to a finite mind, then either he must forego his claim to divinity, or we must cease to be human. And yet in nothing, scarcely, is the Christian more at fault than in attempting to fathom those dispensations of his government in which he conceals his purposes and enshrouds himself, and failing, he then questions the wisdom and rectitude of his procedure! But how gently does the result rebuke and confound our misapprehension and distrust. When from the secret place of thunder he utters his voice, when in his dealings darkness is under his feet, when he makes darkness his secret place, his pavilion round about him dark waters and thick clouds of the skies (Psa. 18:11), even then he is but making a way for his love to us, which shall appear all the more real and precious by the very cloud-chariot in which it travels.
The
believer in Christ has nothing slavishly to dread, but everything filially to
hope from God. So fully is he pardoned, so completely is he justified, so
perfectly is he reconciled to God, that even the darkest dispensations in which
he hides himself shall presently unveil the brightest views of his character
and love; and thus the lowering cloud that deepened in its darkness and grew
larger as it approached shall dissolve and vanish, leaving no object visible to
the eye but him whose essence and name is love. Oh, it is because we have such
shallow views of God’s love that we have such defective views of God’s
dealings! We blindly interpret the symbols of his providence because we so
imperfectly read the engraving of his heart. Faith finds it difficult to spell
the word ‘love’ as written in the shaded characters of its discipline; to
believe that the cloud which looks so somber and threatening is the
love-chariot of him who for our ransom gave himself unto the death because he
so loved us!
The subject
on which this chapter engages our thoughts presents another path heavenward for
the Christian. And as this path is frequently trodden by many, we desire to
present it in such an aspect as shall help onward those who are walking in
darkness having no light, or around whose way the dense dark clouds of divine
dispensations are gathering, filling the soul with fear and trembling. He makes
the clouds his chariot; and soothed with this assurance, the beclouded,
benighted traveler may be still and know that he is God. Let us view some of
those clouds of the Christian pilgrimage which Christ makes his chariot.
The
heavens are draped with many clouds of varied forms and hues. Such are,
figuratively, the dealings of God with his people. Our Lord has many chariots.
It is recorded of Solomon that his chariots were fourteen hundred; but the
chariots of God are twenty thousand. In every cloud in the history of the
church and in the experience of the saints is a divine chariot, and every
chariot is, like the King of Israel’s, paved in the midst with love. We may
illustrate this by a reference to Christ’s state-chariot, or, in other words,
the Lord’s appearance to his people in the cloud of his essential and divine
glory. It was in this cloud he entered and filled the tabernacle ‘so that the
priests could not stand to minister because of the cloud: for the glory of the
LORD filled the house of the LORD’ (I Kings 8:11). In this same cloud, too, he
descended upon Mount Sinai: And a cloud covered the mount. And the glory of the
LORD abode upon mount Sinai’ (Exod. 24:15-16). The same glorious chariot was
seen descending and lighting upon Mount Tabor, in that sublime and expressive
scene of our Lord’s transfiguration, when ‘he received from God the Father
honour and glory, when there came such a voice to him from the excellent glory,
This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased’ (2 Pet. 1: 1 7). The same
chariot of state waited his ascension and bore him back to heaven, reinvested
with the glory which he had with the Father before the world was; for as he
went up and his form disappeared from the gaze of his disciples, ‘a cloud
received him out of their sight’ (Acts 1:9). In like manner, descending in the
state-chariot of his own glory and the glory of his Father, shall he come
again. Behold, he cometh with clouds; and every eye shall see him’ (Rev. 1:7).
Solemn scene! Sublime advent! Blessed hope of those who love and look and long
for his appearing! Saints of God, it speedeth on! The day of your full
redemption draweth nigh. The state-chariot of our Immanuel is preparing for its
descent to the world, conveying him to his church, his loving, longing bride.
Lord, why tarry the wheels of thy chariot? Come, quickly come, and terminate
the reign of sin and sorrow and death in the dominion of holiness and happiness
and endless life, and take thy wearying church to thyself.
Come,
great Redeemer, open wide
The curtains of the parting sky;
On a bright cloud in triumph ride,
And on the wind’s swift pinions fly.
Come,
King of kings, with thy bright train,
Cherubs and seraphs, heavenly hosts;
Assume thy right, enlarge thy reign,
As far as earth extends her coasts.
Come,
Lord, and where thy cross once stood,
There plant thy banner, fix thy throne;
Subdue the rebels by thy Word,
And claim the nations as thine own.
May we
not pause at this part of our subject and ask the reader, have you seen the
King riding in his chariot of state? To drop the figure, have you seen his
glory, as the glory of the only-begotten of the Father, full of grace and
truth? Oh, it is a grand spectacle, the glory that is in Christ Jesus, the
glory of his person, his atoning work, his redeemed church! Blessed are the
eyes enlightened to behold it! Deem not your Christianity as true, nor your
religion as sound, nor your hope as valid, unless you have seen by faith’s
spiritual, far-discerning eye Jesus in his divinity, the King riding in majesty
and beauty in this cloud-chariot of his essential dignity and glory. It is only
in the beaming effulgence of this glory that all our demerit and deformity is
absorbed and annihilated. So divine, blinding, and overpowering is the
essential glory of our redeeming God that a believing sinner, enveloped by its
beams, is changed into the same image, from glory to glory, even as by the
Spirit of the Lord. All his unrighteousness, his sins, and hell-deservings are
consumed and destroyed by the divine Sun of righteousness. Jesus makes this
cloud his chariot and waits to bless us with its vision.
There
are, too, divine truths—the mysteries of the gospel, for example—which may be
regarded as the cloud chariots of God. It is a favorite maxim with the objector
to Christianity—plausible yet fallacious—that where mystery begins faith
terminates. And yet never did the genius of error forge a weapon more weak and
powerless with which to attack our divine and holy faith! If the Bible be the
revelation of God, mysteries must necessarily form an essential part, if not
its very substance. It would indeed be astonishing if God should not know more
than man; or that if, in condescending to reveal to man his being, his will,
and his heart, there should not be problems in divine truth man cannot solve,
depths he cannot reach, mysteries he cannot unravel, and revelations he may not
reconcile. Such, for example, are the revealed doctrines of the Trinity, the
incarnation, atonement, election, sovereignty, the new birth, and resurrection.
We own the mystery which envelops so much connected with these great verities
of our faith; that there are depths too profound for reason’s line to touch,
modes of existence which forbid the rash doubts of the skeptic and the vain
speculation of the philosopher, while they demand the unquestioning faith and
profound homage of the believing mind.
And yet
are we then to reject them? We may, we do, believe a thousand things in nature
which the mind cannot fully comprehend. Our very existence is a mystery; every
movement of the body, every action of mind, every volition of will, every
emotion and affection of the heart encompasses us with mystery. Yet on that
account do we doubt our own existence? My being confounds, but does it
transcend my reason? And are we not at every step confronting mysteries in
nature and in providence which we accept as credible, which otherwise we must
reject as incomprehensible? If, then, my reader, your mind is perplexed,
agitated, and distressed respecting these clouds which veil so much connected
with the revealed truths of the gospel, learn this lesson—that Christ makes
these very clouds his chariot. In each and all of these profound yet glorious
verities of our faith, these great and precious doctrines of the gospel, Christ
is revealed Christ is embodied, Christ travels. The gospel is the vehicle in
which Christ makes his constant advent to our souls; and if our reason may not
be able perfectly to comprehend all the parts of the vehicle, let it content
our faith that Jesus, the revelation ‘ the substance, and glory of all divine
truth, occupies it; and that ere long the cloud of mystery into which we
entered with trembling will, as in the transfiguration, dissolve into light and
splendor, pure and soothing, and we shall see Jesus only.
Regard it
as one of your chief mercies that your salvation depends not upon reason but
upon faith. You are not called upon fully to comprehend, but unquestioningly to
believe and love. You are not the less saved because your faith deals with
obscurity, nor is your faith less real, precious, or saving because it abjures
the wisdom of the sage for the docile spirit of the child, and the learning of
the philosopher for the humility of the disciple. Let your great study be the
mystery of Christ’s love to sinners—the mystery of Christ’s love to you. The
apostle was content to leave all mysteries to the day of perfect knowledge, if
he could but attain unto love. Though I know all mysteries, and have not love,
I am nothing. Study that grand truth, ‘God is love’, as embodied in the cross
of Christ, and you can well afford to refer all that is obscure and hard to
understand in revealed truth to the day when we shall know all, as we also are
known. Cease to dispute, cavil, and speculate on the subject of religion and
revealed truth, and receive the gospel and enter into the kingdom of Christ as
a little child.
In the
momentous matter of your future destiny, you have but to deal with two specific
and distinct facts – your sinnership and Christ’s Saviorship. What if you solve
all the problems of science, and fathom all the depths of learning, and unravel
all the mysteries of truth, and yet are lost! What will your speculations, and
researches, and discoveries avail, if at last they be found ineffectual to
distil one drop of the water of life upon the tongue, now caviling and profane,
then fevered and tormented in the quenchless flame? Are you not, by your
present persistent course of unbelief, pride, and rejection of truth, in danger
of finding yourself there? Oh, it is of infinite importance to you that you
come as sinful to the blood of Christ, as condemned to his righteousness, as
ignorant and unlearned to the feet of Christ. The great problem you have to
work out is your own salvation. The grand mystery you have to unravel is the
mystery of your union with Jesus. The momentous questions you have to decide
are the place, the society, and the employment of your endless future! Where,
with whom, and how will you spend your long eternity? Compared with these grave
considerations, all your doctrinal hair-splitting and your religious
speculations, your vain disputes and your dreamy hopes, are as the follies of
driveling idiocy, or the aberrations of a mind insane.
Shakespeare
portrays his ‘Lear’ as gathering straws with the hand that had wielded a
scepter, and devoting to childish thoughts a mind which once gave laws to a
kingdom. With a yet more powerful hand the sacred historian describes the
monarch of Babylon quitting the occupation and abodes of men and betaking
himself to the pursuits and companionship of irrational animals. But what are
these sad pictures of a mind diseased, wrecked, and ruined, compared with the
moral madness of the man who disbelieves the gospel, cavils at truth, and
perils the eternal interests of his soul—who employs the rational powers with
which God has endowed him in attempting to subvert the foundations of
Christianity, to extinguish the beacon light erected on the headlands and the
shores of time to guide the spiritual voyager safe to eternity, involving in
the destruction of others Ws own personal salvation?
The
clouds of God’s providential government are no less his chariot. ‘Clouds and
darkness are round about him’ (Psa. 97:2), and in these dispensations of his
government he moves among men, and especially his saints. It is by a ‘cloudy
pillar’, sometimes turning towards us gleams of light, at other times casting
deep and dark shadows on our way, that God is conducting us heavenward. Oh, how
many and how varied in form and in hue are the trying, afflictive, and
disciplinary dealings of our heavenly Father! How soon the bright blue sky smiling
down upon us may be wreathed with the drapery of clouds, each one dark and
portentous. God blows upon wealth and it vanishes, touches health and it
droops, smites the creature and it dies, and we exclaim in the words of David,
‘I am weary with my groaning; all the night make I my bed to swim; I water my
couch with my tears’ (Psa. 6:6). But the night of cloud and gloom is to the
kingdom of grace what the darkness of night is to the kingdom of nature.
Darkness possesses the twofold property of concealing and revealing; and it
would perhaps be impossible to say in which it most excelled, whether it does
not reveal as much, if not more, beauty and wonder than it veils. Those clouds
of providential dispensations which turn our day into night bring out to view such
constellations of divine promises, discover such perfection of the divine
character, and present such discoveries of divine love, as to make even night
more wonderful and resplendent than day. Ah, beloved, we should know but little
what Christ’s chariot of love was, but for the clouds in which he comes to us!
Are cloudy dispensations gathering around you? Are God’s ways such as fill you
with fear and foreboding, agitation and alarm? Does sickness threaten, do
resources fail, friendships chill, changes in the relations or social position
of life approach? Is separation feared, death anticipated, followed in its
gloomy wake by weakened dependencies, closed channels, sundered ties, the sad
farewell to a parent’s society, the home of childhood, and the dearest,
sweetest ties of earth? Oh, these gathering clouds are but the Lord’s chariot,
in which he rides to thee in all the wisdom of His dealings, the faithfulness
of his covenant, the tenderness of his love, and the righteousness of his
procedure.
Ye
fearful saints, fresh courage take,
The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy, and shall break
In blessings on your head.
Judge not
the Lord by feeble sense,
But trust him for his grace,
Behind a frowning providence
He hides a smiling face.
But
consider who it is that rides in this chariot. It is the Lord your God. Many of
God’s people are so absorbed in their contemplation of the chariot as to
overlook the one who sits in it. Their emotions vary according to the
appearance which it presents. If the cloud is bright and promising, their
feelings and hopes are correspondingly so; but should it wear a somber,
threatening appearance, faith sinks and fears rise. But faith has nothing to do
with the chariot, whatever may be its magnitude, shape, or hue, but with Christ
in the chariot and with God in the cloud. For example, with regard to divine
truth, it is not with the vehicle of truth itself, but with Christ as revealed
in the truth, that our faith must deal. I may not be able to comprehend and
understand all the parts of the chariot—its complexity may baffle, its
gorgeousness may blind me—but I may be able to see and understand who is
enthroned upon its seat.
If the
mystery of the doctrine of the Trinity, and of the incarnation, and of the
atonement, and of election, is so profound that I cannot explain or comprehend
it, I still may discern in them one glorious object, and discerning that
object, it were enough for my salvation. I can see Jesus in the Trinity, Jesus
in the incarnation, Jesus in the atonement, Jesus in election, and this will
suffice until the night of divine mysteries gives place to the meridian
sunshine of a perfect and eternal day of knowledge and glory; and then I shall
as fully understand the mysterious construction and comprehend all the different
parts of the chariot as my mind will be capable of knowing, and my heart of
loving him, whose name is Wonderful, who rode in it to my salvation. Then shall
we know even as also we are known. Oh, how fully and blessedly shall we know
Jesus then! How gloriously will this great mystery of godliness, God manifest
in the flesh, unveil to our enlarged and sanctified intellect. We shall no more
see the King in his beauty as through a glass darkly, nor the good land very
far off. With souls perfected in holiness, how clear will be the vision, how
transparent the medium, how glorious the Object! There shall be no more night
of mystery, no more night of obscurity, no more night of sin, no more night of
weeping. No disease shall shade the intellect, no prejudice shall warp, no
shock shall unhinge it. No adversity shall touch the heart, no bereavement
shall sadden, no changed and chilled affection shall collapse it.
That
there will be gradations of knowledge and degrees of glory, I think is
probable. There are so in the Church of God on earth; I see nothing to exclude
the same from the Church of God in heaven. But this will not in the slightest
degree affect the happiness or glory of the saints. Is there less beauty in a
tuhp-bed, or in a conservatory of flowers, because there is so rich an
assemblage of varied colors? Or, is there less splendor in the heavenly bodies
because there is so great a variety of magnitude, effulgence, and orbit? And
will there be less enjoyment, or less beauty, or less song amidst the countless
numbers who throng the temple above, because ‘One star differeth from another
star in glory’ (1 Cor. 15:41)? Oh, no, the glory and the happiness of each will
be full and perfect! Every spirit will possess a happiness and reflect a glory
equal to its capacity. As two luminous bodies in the celestial system may shine
in perfection, though in widely different orbits and with different degrees of
splendor, and as two streams, the rivulet and the river, may course their way
through landscape, the one gliding in simple, pensive beauty, the other rolling
in majestic waves, and yet each filling its channel, both equally charming the
eye and declaring the glory of God; so the ‘spirits of just men made perfect’
(Heb. 12:23) shall each be a differing, yet full, vessel of happiness. The
image of God will shine with full-orbed splendour in both, though with
different intensity, and by each one shall Christ perfect to himself endless
praise.
Oh,
beloved, if we but reach that world of purity and of bliss, we shall be so
satisfied with the orbit we roll in, the glory we emit, and the happiness we
feel, as never to question the goodness or the righteousness of God in the
sphere assigned us! Christ will then be all in all to us, and we shall be
satisfied with all that Christ has done. I think that our bliss will be so
complete, our joy so full, and our glory so resplendent, we shall scarcely be
conscious that there is another saint fuller, happier, or more glorious than
ourselves. Blessed world of glory, we long to be within thy walls! Open, ye
everlasting doors, and admit us, that we may eat of the tree of life and
recline upon the sunlight banks of the crystal river that makes glad the city
of our God.
Salem,
city of the holy,
We shall be within thy walls:
There, beside yon crystal river,
There, beneath life’s wondrous tree,
There,
with nought to cloud or sever,
Ever with the Lamb to be!
Heir of glory!
That shall be for thee and me!
The Lord,
too, is equally in all the providential clouds which unfold his government and
trace our pilgrimage heavenward. It is our wisdom and our happiness to know
that there is not an event or circumstance, a cloud or a sunbeam, in our
personal history and experience that is not a vehicle of Christ. He makes the
clouds his chariot; and his providential dispensations, whatever their form or
their hue, are his means of approaching and visiting us. ‘The LORD hath his way
in the whirlwind and in the storm, and the clouds are the dust of his feet’
(Nahum 1:3). Fear not, oh Christian traveler, that dark, lowering cloud rising
above thee. It grows large, and it looks threatening, and thou thinkest it will
overtake and consume thee before thou hast crossed the plain and reached the
shelter. Tremble not, it will roll no thunder, it will flash no lightning! The
cross of Christ is the great lightning conductor for the Church of God. Around
that cross, law and justice met in awful array, the thunderbolt struck and the
lightning scathed the Son of God, and upon him they spent their force. And now
beneath the shelter of that cross, the penitent sinner may safely stand, and
the darkest cloud, and the loudest thunder, and the most vivid lightning that
gathers and verberates and illumines above shall pass him by untouched, for
there is now ‘no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus’ (Rom. 8:1).
Why,
then, fear the dealings, and the readings, and the chastenings of God in
providence? That somber chariot that appears at thy door, enters thy abode,
mounts into thy chamber, is the chariot of love, the chariot of Jesus. Christ
is in that adversity, Christ is in that loss, Christ is in that bereavement,
Christ is in that sickness; in a word, that cloud, whatever may be its nature,
its form, and its darkness what it may, is one of the twenty thousand chariots
of God in which he rideth to thy help, in his excellency, on the sky. Oh, learn
to see Christ and to deal closely with God in all his dispensations and
dealings with you. No enemy bent on destruction, no foe armed with vengeance,
sits in the cloud chariot that approaches you—it is your Father, your covenant
God, your Redeemer. It is he to whose heart you are more precious than the
universe, in whose eye you are more beautiful than angels, and on whose ear the
accents of your voice fall with a melody infinitely surpassing the sweetest
cherub before the throne.
Look not,
I beseech you, at the somber hue of the chariot, but rather at the love and
loveliness and graciousness of him who sits within it. It is your beloved Lord!
His person is white and ruddy, human and divine. His countenance is brighter
than the sun shining in its strength. His voice is gentle, tender, and winning,
uttering the speech and the accent and the words of love. Then be not afraid.
Christ will never send an empty chariot to his people. When his chariot lights
at our door, we may be assured that he is in it. No angel, no ransomed spirit
shall occupy the seat, but he himself. Welcome, then, the visit of your
gracious King. He comes laden with the ‘sure mercies of David’, freighted with
covenant blessings and bearing the sweet grapes and the fragrant flowers
gleaned from the vineyards and the paradise of heaven. He comes in this cloud
to talk with and to manifest himself to you and to make you more intimately and
personally acquainted with himself, with his truth and his love. Welcome him to
your dwelling, receive him into your heart, and bid him abide with you there,
never to leave you again. Be not satisfied unless you discern the Ying in the
chariot. This only will dispel your fears and reconcile you to the
dispensation, however dark and painful it may be. The moment you realize, ‘Thou
art near, O Lord’—that moment your heaving, panting bosom will be at rest. The
disciples feared as they entered into the cloud upon the Mount of Transfiguration,
but discovering the Lord in it, their trembling was changed into confidence,
their apprehension into joy, and they desired to build their tabernacle on its
summit and no more descend to the toil and the strife below.
Beloved,
are you entering some overshadowing cloud trembling and apprehensive? Fear not!
Thy Lord is in it, and a Father’s voice of love shall speak to thee from out of
its veiling shadows, saying, ‘When thou passest through the waters, I will be
with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee: when thou
walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned; neither shall the flame
kindle upon thee. For I am the LORD thy God, the Holy One of Israel, thy
Savior’ (Isa. 43:2-3). Glorious cloud that enshrines the form of my redeeming
God! Welcome, thou coming chariot, that brings Jesus near to my soul. Thy
vesture is dark, thy form gigantic, thy appearance threatening, but my heart
shall not fear, nor my faith falter, for in this will I be confident, that he
makes the clouds his chariot, and in this chariot comes my Savior to shelter,
to soothe, and to bless me. Truly, ‘there is none like unto the God of
Jeshurun, who rideth upon the heaven in thy help, and in his excellency on the
sky. The eternal God is thy refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms’
(Deut. 33:26-27). Ere long another chariot will appear at your door, the
chariot sent to bear you home to God, to Christ, to heaven. We know not what
form this messenger will as- sume, whether it will be Christ’s state-chariot, which
shall convey him in person to us, or whether it shall be Christ’s chariot of
death, which will convey us to him; but this we believe and are assured of,
that in a very little while we shall see the Lord and be with him forever. The
chariot is preparing for us, let us be preparing for the chariot. Let us so
live detached from, and above, the world, and creatures, and earthly delights;
let us so live in fellowship with God and in communion with divine and eternal
things, that when the Lord’s chariot gently knocks at our door, we may have
nothing to do but to step into it and away to heaven! Aged saint, art thou
looking through the window and the lattice of thy frail tabernacle, exclaiming,
‘Why is his chariot so long in coming. Why tarry the wheels of his chariots?’
(Judg. 5:28).
Be
patient and trustful; the Lord’s time is best, and ere long thou shalt exclaim,
‘It is the voice of my Beloved that knocketh! The Master is come and calleth
for me. Earth, farewell! Friends, farewell! Parents, kindred, wife, children,
home, farewell! Sorrow, suffering, trial, sin, farewell! I go to be with Jesus
forever!’ And then a cloud of glory shall receive you out of their sight, and
so shall you ever be with the Lord.
Forever with the Lord!
Amen; so let it be,
Life from the dead is in that word,
‘Tis immortality.
Here in the body pent,
Absent from Him I roam,
Yet nightly pitch my moving tent
A day’s march nearer home.
My Father’s house on high,
Home of my soul, so near,
At times, to faith’s far-seeing eye
Thy golden gates appear!
Yet clouds will intervene,
And all my prospect flies,
Like Noah’s dove, I flit between
Rough seas and stormy skies.
And the clouds depart,
The winds and waters cease,
While sweetly o’er my gladdend heart
Expands the bow of peace.
In darkness as in light,
Hidden alike from view,
I sleep, I wake, as in His sight,
Who looks all nature through.
Forever with the Lord!
Father, if ’tis Thy will,
The promise of that faithful word
Even here to me fulfil.
Be Thou at my right hand,
Then can I never fail,
Uphold Thou me, and I shall stand,
Fight, and I must prevail.
Knowing as I am known,
How shall I love that word!
And oft repeat before the throne,
Forever with the Lord!
Forever with the Lord!
Amen; so let it be,
Life from the dead is in that word,
‘Tis immortality
Octavius
Winslow
“For the grace of God that bringeth salvation hath appeared to all men,” Titus 2:11