The Communicant's Companion (continued)
jealousy of ourselves, as will keep us humble, and take us off from all selfconceit and self-confidence; such a jealousy of ourselves, as will keep us watchful, and save us from sinking into carnal security. And now is a proper time to think how many there are that eat bread with Christ, and yet lift up the heel against him: the hand of him that betrays him, perhaps, is with him upon the table; which should put us upon asking, as the disciples did, just before the first sacrament, "Lord, is it I?" Many that eat and drink in Christ's presence, will be rejected and disowned by him in the great day.
Have I not some reason to fear lest that be my doom at last?—to fear, lest a promise being left me of entering into rest, I should seem to come short?— to fear, lest, when the King comes in to see the guests, he find me without a wedding garment. Be not too confident, O my soul, lest thou deceive thyself: "Be not high-minded, but fear."
2. However, it is certain we have reason to abase ourselves; for, at the best, we are unworthy to come. If we "are less than the least of God's mercies," how much, less are we than the greatest, than this, which includes all? We are unworthy of the crumbs that fall from our Master's table, much more unworthy of the children's bread, and the dainties that are upon the table. Being invited, we may hope to be welcome; but what is there in us that we should be invited? Men invite their friends and acquaintance to their tables, but we were naturally "strangers and enemies in our minds by wicked works," and yet are we invited. Men invite such as they think will, with their quality or merit, grace their tables; but we are more likely to be a reproach to Christ's table, being poor and maimed, halt and blind; and yet are picked up out of the highways and the hedges. Men invite such as they are under obligations to, or have expectations from; but Christ is no way indebted to us, nor can he be benefited by us; our goodness extends not to him, and yet he invites us. We have much more reason than Mephibosheth had, when he was made a constant guest at David's table, to bow ourselves, and say, "What is thy servant, that thou shouldest look upon such a dead dog as I am?" They who thus humble themselves shall be exalted.
V. Yet let us come to this ordinance with a gracious confidence, as children to a father, to a father's table; not with any confidence in ourselves, but in Christ only.—That slavish fear which represents God as a hard master, rigorous in his demands, and extreme to mark what we do amiss: which straitens our spirits, and subjects us to bondage and torment, must be put off, and striven against; and we must come boldly to the throne of grace, to the table of grace, not as having any thing in ourselves to recommend us, but as having a High Priest, who is touched with the feeling of our infirmities. As a presumptuous rudeness is a provocation to the master of the feast, so a distrustful shyness is displeasing to him; which looks as if we questioned either the sincerity of the invitation, or the sufficiency of the provision.
This is the fault of many good Christians: they come to this sacrament rather like prisoners to the bar, than like friends and children to the table; they come trembling and astonished, and full of confusion. Their apprehensions of the grandeur of the ordinance, and the danger of coming unworthily, run into an extreme, and become a hinderance to the exercise of faith, hope, and love: this extreme we should carefully watch against, because it tends so much to God's dishonor, our own prejudice, and the discouragement of others. Let us remember we have to do with one who is willing to make the best of sincere desires and serious endeavors, though in many things we be defective; and who deals with us in tender mercy, and not in strict justice, and who, though he be out of Christ a consuming fire, yet in Christ is a gracious Father: let us, "therefore, draw near with a true heart, and full assurance of faith." It is related of Titus the emperor, that when a poor petitioner presented his address to him with a trembling hand, he was much displeased, and asked him, Dost thou present thy petition to thy prince, as if thou wert giving meat to a lion?—Chide thyself for these amazing fears: "Why art thou cast down, O my soul? and why art thou disquieted within me?" If the Spirit undertake to work all my works in me, as the Son hath undertaken to work all my works for me, both the one and the other shall be done effectually: therefore "hope thou in God, for I shall yet praise him." VI. Let us come to this ordinance with earnest desires towards God and communion with him.—It is a feast, a spiritual feast; and we must come to it with an appetite, a spiritual appetite: for the full soul loathes even the honey-comb, and slights the offer of it; but to the hungry soul, that is sensible of its own needs, every bitter thing is sweet, even the bitterness of repentance, when it is in order to peace and pardon. Our desires towards the world and the flesh must be checked and moderated, and kept under the government of religion and right reason; for we have been too long spending our money for that which is not bread, and which is, at the best, unsatisfying; but our desires towards Christ must be quickened and stirred up. "As the hart, the hunted hart, panteth after the refreshment of the water brook, so earnestly must our souls pant for the living God." The invitation is given, and the promise made to them only that hunger and thirst; they are called to come to the waters, to come and drink, and it is promised to them that they shall be filled. It is very necessary, therefore, that we work upon our hearts the consideration of those things that are proper to kindle this holy fire, and to blow its sparks into a flame. We are then best prepared to receive temporal mercies, when we are most indifferent to them, and content, if the will of God be so, to be without them. "Did I desire a son of my lord?" said the good Shunamite. Here the danger is of being too earnest in our desires, as Rachel: "Give me children, or else I die." But we are then best prepared to receive spiritual mercies, when we are most importunate for them: here the desires cannot be too vehement. In the former case, strong desires evidence the prevalency of sense; but in this they evidence the power of faith, both realizing and valuing the blessings desired. The devout and pious soul "thirsts for God, for the living God, as a thirsty land." It longs, "yea, even faints for the courts of the Lord," and for communion with God in them. It "breaks for the longing it hath unto God's judgments at all times."—Can our souls witness to such desires as these? O that I might have a more intimate acquaintance with God and Christ, and divine things! O that I might have the tokens of God's favor, and fuller assurances of his distinguishing love in Jesus Christ!
O that my covenant-interest in him, and relation to him, might be cleared up to me, and that I might have more of the comfort of it! O that I might partake more of the divine grace; and, by its effectual working on my soul, might be made more conformable to the divine will and likeness; more holy, humble, spiritual, heavenly, and more meet for the inheritance! O that I might have the earnest of the Spirit in my heart, sealing me to the day of redemption!
Thus the desire of our souls must be towards the Lord, and towards the remembrance of his name. In this imperfect state, where we are at home in the body, and absent from the Lord, our love to God acts more in holy desires, than in holy delights. It is rather love in motion, like a bird upon the wing, than love at rest, like a bird upon the nest. All those who have the Lord for their God, agree to desire nothing more than God, for they know they have enough in him; but yet still they desire more and more of God; for, till they come to heaven, they will never have enough of him. Come then, my soul, why art thou so cold in thy desires towards those things which are designed for thy peculiar satisfaction, distinct from the body?
Why so eager for the meat that perisheth, and so indifferent to that which endures to everlasting life? Hast thou no desire to that which is so necessary to thy support, and without which thou art undone? No desire to that which will contribute so much to thy comfort, and yield thee inexpressible satisfaction? Provision is made in the Lord's Supper of bread to strengthen thee; will not the sense of thine own weakness and emptiness make thee hunger after that? Canst thou be indifferent to that which is the staff of thy life? Provision is made of pleasant food, fat things full of marrow, and wines on the lees; art thou not desirous of dainties, such dainties? Was the tree of knowledge such a temptation, because it was "pleasant to the eye, and a tree to be desired to make one wise," that our first parents would break through the hedge of a divine command, and venture all that was dear to them to come at it? And shall not the tree of life, which we are not only allowed, but commanded to eat of, and the fruit of which will nourish us to life eternal—shall not that appear more pleasant in our eyes, and more to be desired? God, even thine own God, who hath wherewithal to supply all thy needs, and hath promised to be to thee a God all-sufficient, a God that is enough,—he hath said, "Open thy mouth wide and I will fill it;" thou art not straitened in him, be not straitened in thine own desires.
VII. Let us come to this ordinance with raised expectations.—The same faith that enlarges the desire, and draws it out to a holy vehemence, should also elevate the hope, and ripen it to a holy confidence. When we come thirsting to these waters, we need not fear that they will prove like the brooks in summer, which disappoint the weary traveler; for, "when it is hot, they are consumed out of their place." Such are all the broken cisterns of the creature; they perform not what they promise, or rather what we foolishly promise to ourselves from them: no, but these are inexhaustible fountains of living water, in which there is enough for all, though ever so many; enough for each, though ever so needy; enough for me, though most unworthy.
Come, my soul, what dost thou look for at the table of the Lord? The maker of the feast is God himself, who does nothing little or mean, but is "able to do exceeding abundantly above what we are able to ask or think."
When he gives, he gives like himself, gives like a king, gives like a God, all things richly to enjoy; considering not what becomes such ungrateful wretches as we are to receive, but what it becomes such a bountiful benefactor as he is to give. A lively faith may expect that which is rich and great from him that is possessor of heaven and earth, and all the wealth of both; and that which is kind and gracious from him that is the "Father of mercies, and the God of all consolation." A lively faith may expect all that is purchased by the blood of Christ from a God who is righteous in all his ways, and all that is promised in the new covenant from a God who cannot lie nor deceive.
The provision in this feast is Christ himself, and all his benefits; all we need to save us from being miserable, and all we can desire to make us happy: and glorious things, no doubt, may be expected from him, in whom "it pleased the Father, that all fulness should dwell." Let our expectations be built upon a right foundation; not any merit of our own, but God's mercy, and Christ's mediation: and then build large, as large as the new covenant in its utmost extent; build high, as high as heaven in all its glory. Come expecting to see that which is most illustrious, and to taste and receive that which is most precious; come expecting that with which you will be abundantly satisfied.
Though what is prepared seems to a carnal eye poor and scanty, like the five loaves set before five thousand men; yet, when Christ has the breaking of those loaves, they shall all eat and be filled. In this ordinance the oil is multiplied, the oil of gladness; it is multiplied in the pouring out, as the widow's oil. Do as she did, therefore: bring empty vessels, bring not a few, they shall all be filled; the expectations of faith shall all be answered; the oil stays not, while there is an empty vessel waiting to be filled. Give faith and hope their full compass, and thou wilt find, as that widow did, there is enough of this oil, this multiplied oil, this oil from the good olive, to pay thy debt, and enough beside for thee and thine to live upon. As we oft wrong ourselves by expecting too much from the world, which is vanity and vexation; so we often wrong ourselves by expecting too little from God, whose "mercy is upon us, according as we hope in him," and who, in exerting his power, and conferring his gifts, still says, "According to your faith be it unto you." The king of Israel lost his advantage against the Syrians, by smiting thrice, and then staying, when he should have smitten five or six times. And we do often, in like manner, prejudice ourselves by the weakness of our faith: we receive little, because we expect little; and are like them among whom "Christ could not do many mighty works, because of their unbelief."
VIII. Let us come to this ordinance with rejoicing and thanksgiving.— These two must go together; for whatever is the matter of our rejoicing, must be the matter of our thanksgiving. Holy joy is the heart of our thankful praise, and thankful praise the language of holy joy; and both these are very