Chapter 14: Hidden, but Radiant!
Chapter 14: Hidden, but Radiant!
(JEREMIAH 36:26).
"Be still and strong,
O Man, my Brother! hold thy sobbing breath.
And keep thy soul's large window pure from wrong
That so, as life's appointment issueth,
Thy vision may be clear to watch along
The sunset consummation-lights of death!"
E. B. BROWNING.
AFTER JEHOIAKIM HAD deliberately cut in pieces the prophet's roll, and so rejected his warnings and expostulations; and when in addition to this he had threatened the lives of God's faithful servants—it became clear that no further good could be gained by reiterating his messages. Thus the prophet's voice was hushed, apparently for the remainder of the reign of this bad and infatuated king. This is one of those principles of the Divine government—which is as certain in its operation today as ever—that after a certain time the Divine voice, being unheeded, ceases to speak; and those who will not retain God in their knowledge are given up to the workings of their corrupt minds, to work all uncleanness with greediness. We recall those ominous words, written as an epitaph on the grave of the first king of Israel: "Samuel came no more to see Saul until the day of his death," and the no less awful words of the apostle of love: "There is a sin unto death; not concerning this do I say that he should make request" (1 John 5:16, R.V.).
Into that new and splendid palace of Jehoiakim, whose spacious halls were ceiled with cedar from Lebanon, lighted by wide windows, and painted with bright colours, the one presence never entered which at that time would have saved the ship of State—as the timely arrival of a pilot may save an ocean steamer from the fatal ignorance of an incompetent captain. The false prophets might beguile the ears of king and people with predictions, bred in the falsehood of their own nature. The strong Egyptian partisans might urge on the king alliance with Pharaoh as the certain cure for the difficulties of their position. But Jeremiah's voice, during the dark and troublous days that succeeded that scene in the palace, and until Jehoiakim's body was cast forth, unburied and unwept, was still. How did it fare with the prophet, and what engaged him during those eventful years?
I. THE LORD HID HIM. —What that precisely means it is impossible to say. Was there a John of Gaunt for this Wycliff, an Elector of Saxony for this Luther? Did Ahikam, who had before interposed on his behalf, or his sons—Gemariah, who lent Jeremiah his room in the Temple for the reading of his roll, and Gedaliah, who became Governor of Judah after Zedekiah's deportation—take the prophet under their care? Or was this hiding something more Divine and blessed still? In any case, whether through the intervention of second causes or directly, Jeremiah was hidden in the covert of the Divine presence from the plottings of man, and was kept secretly in a pavilion from the strife of tongues. In his first alarm he had said, "I am cut off from before thine eyes." Nevertheless, God had heard the voice of his supplication, and had preserved his faithful servant.
These Divine hidings are needed by us all. We must obey the voice that cries to us, as it did to Elijah, "Get thee hence, and turn thee eastward, and hide thyself." We are too prominent, too self-important, too conscious of ourselves. Our shadows fall too much in front of us, and we see them on the sand, clear-cut and defined. We need to keep our faces sunward, that our shadow may be well out of sight. And God must sometimes hide us in the sick - chamber, the valley of shadow, the cleft of the rock. He calls us to Zarephath, or Carmel, to the privacy of obscurity, or of solitude. It is only when self is hidden in the darkness of the grave that the true light shines upon our hearts, or the power of the true life emanates from our acts.
How often has some timid nature sheltered and hidden itself in a stronger personality to which it was devotedly attached, so that it could bear unmoved the stare of indifference, the affectation of superiority, the sarcastic taunt, the injurious act! So when the one passion of our nature is Godward, when his smile is our sufficient reward, when we have no aim than to be well-pleasing in his sight, we are hidden; and from our retreat in the burning glory of his light, we can look out with equanimity on the forms of dreaded evils as they pass us by.
There is a literal sense also, O tried and tempted believer, in which God will hide you. It is stated that on one occasion when the dragoons of Claverhouse were scouring the mountains of Scotland in search of the Covenanters, a little party of these Godly folk, gathered on the hillside for prayer, must have fallen into their hands, had not a cloud suddenly settled down, effectually concealing them from their pursuers. Thus the Son of God still interposes for his own. Live to Him alone. Be a polished shaft, hidden in the hollow of his hand. Abide in Him. Hark! He says to thee, as David to Abiathar, "Abide thou with Me; fear not! for he that seeketh my life seeketh thy life; for with Me thou shalt be in safeguard."
II. HE RE-EDITED HIS PROPHECIES.-TO this period we may refer the Divine injunction: "Thus speaketh the Lord, the God of Israel, saying, Write thee all the words that I have spoken unto thee in a book" (xxx. 1,2). It may be that throughout this period Baruch continued to act as his faithful amanuensis and scribe. He, at least, was certainly included in the Divine hidings (xxxvi. 26-32). It was at great cost to his earthly prospects. He came of a good family, his brother being Seraiah, who held high office under king Zedekiah, and he cherished the ambition of distinguishing himself amongst his compeers. "He sought great things for himself." But he was reconciled to the lot of suffering and sorrow to which his close identification with Jeremiah led him, by a special revelation assuring him of the speedy overthrow of the State; and that, in the general chaos, he would escape with his life (xlv.).
By the aid of this faithful friend, Jeremiah gathered together the prophecies which he had uttered on various occasions, and put them in order, specially elaborating the predictions given in the fourth year of Jehoiakim against the surrounding nations. The word of the Lord came to him concerning the Philistines, and Moab, and the children of Ammon and Edom, Damascus and Kedar. And the devout student may well pause to read again the marvellous paragraphs, which foretell the fate of these nations, beneath the all-desolating incursions of Nebuchadnezzar and his ruthless soldiers. "Thou art my battle-axe and weapons of war," said the prophet, addressing the great king in Jehovah's name; "with thee will I break in pieces the nations, and with thee will I destroy kingdoms." (See xlvii. to 49:33).
This time of Jeremiah's seclusion was therefore not lost to the world. It was fruitful as Bunyan's in Bedford Gaol; Luther's in the Wartburg; Madame Guyon's in the Bastille. Unseen, the prophet busied himself, as the night settled down on his country, in kindling the sure light of prophecy, that should cast its radiant beams over the dark waters of time, until the day should dawn, and the day-star glimmer out in the eastern sky. Yield your whole nature to God, and be sure that He will bring all of it, and every moment, under his productive cultivation; so that it shall become like one of the old-fashioned wall-enclosed country gardens, every square inch of which yields some produce to the skilful hand of its owner.
III. HE MADE A DOUBLE JOURNEY TO BABYLON.—To this period we must also refer the incident of the Linen Girdle, because the discourse founded on it was delivered during the three months' reign of Jehoiachin, which was altogether too brief to admit of so long a journey as was necessary for the purposes on which the prophet was set (xiii.; notably verse 18).
The Israelite was extremely particular as to cleanliness, and especially of linen. It therefore attracted universal notice that Jeremiah, at a certain period, wore a newly-purchased linen girdle without washing it. When it was soiled and filthy, he took it, under Divine direction, to the river Euphrates, and there buried it in a hole of the rock. Some have thought that this is the description of a vision; or that some place nearer than the Euphrates, which was two hundred and fifty miles distant, is intended. But there seems no good reason for questioning the literal interpretation of the narrative, as given by the prophet. There was no special demand for his presence in Jerusalem, but the reverse. Time was no object in comparison with the vividness of the impression that would be produced. Besides, large purposes were served by his becoming familiarized with the condition of the exiles in Babylon, and with the drift of events there. In the prophecies which he delivered afterwards on the fall of Babylon, there are touches of description so minute and accurate as could hardly have been given by one who was not familiar with the city from personal observation.
After his return from Babylon, "many days" passed. Indeed, his second journey, to recover his marred girdle, may have been so timed by Almighty Providence as to secure his absence from the city during the last scene of Jehoiakim's sad and tragic history; and to bring him thither again as Jehoiachin began his brief reign. But that rotted piece of linen, held up before the eyes of his people told its own sad story. Judah and Jerusalem might have been to Jehovah for a name, a praise, and a glory; and He would have caused them to cleave unto Him: but they would not hear; they went after other gods, to serve and worship them. Therefore they were destined to be cast aside as worthless and unprofitable.
The lesson of this double journey, which must have meant about a thousand miles on foot, teaches us that no exertion on our part should be considered excessive, if we can execute the commissions of our King. Long before, when a comparative child, Jeremiah had been summoned to perform God's errands for Him (i. 7): and it was not for him to complain if any special errand took him far afield, or involved journeying under scorching suns, and sleeping in the night dews. When Jesus bids us go into all the world, He means it; and we may not plead before Him the distance and hardships of the way. It is enough if He has said, "Go to Euphrates." When once we are sure of this, we must imitate the prophet, who says, with charming simplicity, "So I went to Euphrates."
IV. HE HAD VISIONS OF THE NEW COVENANT.—There is much reason for supposing that it was in this time of seclusion that Jeremiah's eyes were opened to see a spiritual truth, which was far in advance of any contemporary revelation, and was destined to become the mould into which some of the richest ore of Gospel truth should be poured. It was not the last time when mortal eyes were closed in order to see; shielded from the glare of this world that they might behold the light that never shone on sea or shore. The blind Milton sang of Paradise lost and regained.
The exquisite poem to which we must now turn is contained in chapters xxx. and xxxi., and consists of some seven stanzas. The prophet is no longer concerned with Judah alone; his thought embraces the ten tribes also" Israel " he calls them, or " Ephraim," which one hundred and seventy years before had been carried away captive to Nineveh. But his heart exults as he anticipates the return of the entire people from the land of the north, baptized through suffering, into a purer, nobler life.
On many of the exquisite thoughts and phrases of this joyful outburst, we might long and profitably dwell. We can only cull a few flowerets, and leave them to tell the wealth of the garden from which they come:
"Fear thou not, O Jacob my servant, saith the Lord,
Neither be dismayed, O Israel;
For lo, I will save thee from afar,
And thy seed from the land of their captivity."
"I will restore health unto thee,
And I will heal thee of thy wounds, saith the Lord."
"Yea, I have loved thee with an everlasting love,
Therefore, with loving-kindness have I drawn thee.
Again will I build thee,
And thou shalt be built, O virgin of Israel;
Thou shalt be adorned with thy tabrets,
And shalt go forth in the dances of them that make merry."
"My people shall be satisfied with my goodness, saith the Lord."
Transported by words like these, as he lay in prophetic trance, it is not wonderful that Jeremiah experienced, after a spiritual sort, the ecstatic joy which visits the soul, when, between sleeping and waking, it realizes that its dearest hopes are being fulfilled. "Upon this I awaked and beheld; and my sleep was sweet unto me" (xxxi. 26).
But the more stupendous revelation was to follow. The dread commands of Moses, the elaborate forms of Temple-ritual, the pleadings of Deuteronomy, enforced as they had been by the words of contemporary prophets, had all failed to withhold the people from backsliding. What hope was there that the distant future would not repeat the bitter story of the past? But God, who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, shined into his servant's heart, and unveiled the glory of the new covenant, which was to be sealed by the Blood of the Cross— "the new testament in my blood," as Jesus called it. A covenant which would no longer depend on man's obedience to " Thou shalt," and " Thou shalt not"; but would glisten with the seven times repeated, I WILL of God (xxxi. 31-34; Luke 22:20; Heb. 8:8-12).
That the law of God should not be without as a precept, but within, as though inwrought into the very structure of the heart and will; that religion should consist primarily in what God was to his child, rather than in what the child said or did towards Him; that neither priest nor Levite should be needed any more, since each soul would possess the right of direct intercourse with its Lord; that sin should be completely forgiven, as if it had never been—this was the vision which shone in on the prophet's heart, and is realized in Christ for all who belong to Him by faith. This blessed covenant shall yet gather Israel within its provisions.
It is a serious question how far that covenant has been fulfilled in our experience. We are enamoured with the life it foreshadows, and sometimes we think that our inward parts and hearts do bear its sacred inscriptions, as did the stone slabs of Sinai the writing of the decalogue. But we become suddenly conscious of some overwhelming irruption of covetousness, envy, pride, and wrath; as though a sewer were to pour forth its filth over the mosaic work of some splendid pavement.
Such experiences stagger, but they should not discourage us. They probably show, not that God has not commenced his Divine work, but that we have momentarily turned aside from Him to make some effort of our own, or to pride ourselves on what has been accomplished. Whenever God grants us a heavenly vision of some possibility in the Divine life that beckons us from afar, as the stories of the world beyond the ocean stirred our sailors in the reign of Elizabeth, it is a positive sign that a time has come in our experience, when God, who taught us to yearn for it, is prepared to realize it for us. Whenever Christ says, "I have appeared to thee," He adds, "to make thee." Our Father never discourages us by a promise which He is not prepared to fulfil; nor by a hope which He is not eager to bring to fruition. Let us turn back to Him. Let us open our hearts and inward parts to his finger. Let us in meek humility wait for Him to grave even more deeply and legibly his secret thoughts upon us. Let us believe that He is doing it. Let us reckon on Him to perfect the legend, and to keep it clear and clean.
Thus we shall know God. The dead past will bury its dead. The sins and iniquities of former days will be strewn on the shore like the corpses of the Egyptians from whom Israel had got free. And then our heart shall go out in the dance; our mourning will be turned into joy; our soul shall be as a watered garden; and God will comfort us, making us rejoice from our sorrow, and enabling us to reap in joy what we sowed in tears (xxxi. 10-14).