Lecture XXVII · Prayerfulness and the Peace of God

Philippians iv. 4–7

* Rejoice in the Lord alway: and again I say, Rejoice. 5 Let your moderation be known unto all men. The Lord is at hand. 6 Be careful for nothing ; but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanks giving, let your requests be made known unto God. 7 And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.’

Philippians iv. 4–7

WITH this paragraph, as we have already seen, the 4th chapter ought to have commenced ; because the singularly interesting and important digression which began with the 2nd verse of the 3rd chapter, ends with the 3rd verse of the present, and the interrupted line of exhortation is resumed here. The transition occurs very naturally. The apostle has been speaking of a dissension between two honoured members of the church of Philippi, such as was calculated to cause all the brethren discomfort. In connection with this, as it seems to me, there rises in his mind again the thought of those troubles from the hatred of unbelievers, by which the Philippian Christians were tried, and on which he has touched more than once in the 1st chapter, particularly at the close. The whole tenor of the present paragraph, I think, shows that, whilst its precepts and assurances are most important and precious to the people of God under any circumstances, yet, as addressed to the first readers of the Epistle, they were specially intended to guide and cheer them as a persecuted church.

The opening injunction, ‘ Rejoice in the Lord, was fully considered on occasion of its former occurrence, in the 1st verse

of the 3rd chapter. But there are interesting additions here. ‘Rejoice a/way.’ ‘Though your position may be such as to cause nature only pain, yet rise by faith above nature into joy. Even if the billows of trouble sweep wildly around, and threaten to overwhelm you, look up to Him who “ sitteth upon the flood, yea, who sitteth King for ever ;” who “is mightier than the mighty waves of the sea,” and in a moment can by His word bring a great calm ;—look up to Him, and be glad in Him.’ This precept the apostle knew to be one which, to many of the members of a persecuted church, would at first seem impracticable,—indeed, almost paradoxical. To his own heart also, I apprehend, just as he was writing or dictating the ‘ Rejoice alway,’ there came a sudden depression,—the weakness of nature, amid the trials of the prison, sending a sense of weariness and sorrow over him. But grace triumphed in a moment,—and to a spiritual ear how grand are the simple words of the voice of triumph,—how stimulating to the suf fering Philippians,—‘ and again I say’ (more exactly, ‘will say’), ‘ Rejoice!’ As regards the momentary struggle in Paul’s heart between nature and grace, of which, as I have said, I think these words give us ‘an interesting glimpse, the passage reminds us of one in the first chapter: ‘Some preach Christ of contention, not sincerely, supposing to add affliction to my bonds, but others of love. What then? Notwithstanding, every way, whether in pretence or in truth, Christ is preached, and I therein do rejoice,—yea, and will rejoice,

’ ‘Rejoice in the Lord; and, that you may do this, commit your way wholly to Him. Towards your foes show the forbearance of a wise, loving, well-governed spirit, not returning evil for evil. Let all men with whom you come into contact find this to be your habitual course. May not the sight of a character so strange and heavenly have a blessed influence over some of them, and give you the exquisite joy of bringing souls to your Lord—of making those who were your enemies

brethren in Him? But, however this may be, leave the wrong done you to be dealt with by the Lord. His coming is near, and He will do all things well. In regard to all your wants and anxieties, too, of every kind, speak to God in prayer, and His peace will keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Thus you will rejoice in the Lord alway,’ Such appears to me to be the connection of thought in the paragraph.

By ‘moderation, in the 5th verse, is meant, as the paraphrase just given has already suggested to you, not temperance in the gratification of our desires generally, but specially temperance or self-restraint in our relations to others, abstinence from anger, harshness, vengeance. Elsewhere in the New Testament, where the original word occurs, the rendering is ‘gentleness,’ ‘clemency,’ ‘ patience,’ any one of which is preferable to this ambiguous ‘moderation.’ The exact idea is ‘a considerate and forbearing spirit.’ The apostle would have us make allowances for the ignorance and weakness of others, knowing how much and constant need we stand in of having allowances made for ourselves, both by God and man. Taken generally, his precept here calls upon us, for example, in our business dealings, to remember that human laws, however carefully devised, may ever and anon, if rigidly enforced, act unjustly and cruelly ; and to guide ourselves therefore, in every case, by the broad principles of equity in the sight of God. Similarly, in our judgment of the conduct of men, it enjoins upon us to take a kindly view, wherever this is possible, never believing evil of them until we cannot help it. In the case which seems to be at present specially before Paul’s mind, that of a person who is ‘ persecuted for righteousness’ sake,’ he would have the sufferer to form the mildest judgment he can respecting the procedure and character of his enemy; to remember and pity the melancholy darkness of soul which prompts the persecution; and, even if he be in a position to avenge himself, to withhold his hand, and leave

the matter with the Lord Jesus. When He comes to judgment, all wrongs will be righted.*

The suffering believers might well be patient, considerate,

and forbearing,—for, says the apostle, ‘ Ze Lord is at hand,

Whether looked at simply by themselves, or in their logical

connection with the context, these words might very naturally

be [taken to mean that Christ is ever ready to sustain and

deliver His people, ‘#ég# unto all them that call upon Him,’

‘a very present help in trouble,’—not like such gods as the

Philippians had worshipped in their days of darkness, of

which their votaries, through sad experience of neglect, were

compelled to believe, as Elijah derisively reminded the priests

of Baal, that, at the very time their aid was needed, they

might be ‘pursuing, or in a journey.’ But the general usage

of the New Testament points decidedly to that other meaning

which I have already indicated,—‘ The advent of the Lord is

at hand.’ As James has it, ‘The coming of the Lord draweth

nigh.’2 The promise of the Saviour Himself is, ‘ Behold, I come quickly.’ At first sight, declarations like these from the Lord and His inspired apostles startle us, through their apparent inconsistency with what we know to have subsequently happened. Eighteen centuries have gone by. The world has continued ‘buying and selling, planting and building, marrying and giving in marriage.’ The ‘sign of the Son of man’ has not

’ In the Epistle of James, v. 9,—‘ Grudge not one against another, brethren, lest ye be condemned: behold, the Judge standeth before the door,’ the 5th verse finds a very complete parallel,—the only difference being that there the reference is to relations between believers, whilst here, as I apprehend, the apostle is thinking mainly of the relations of Christians to ‘ them that are without.’ 3

The author having had occasion, in his Lectures on the Epistle of ames, to discuss, in connection with the passage quoted above, the same somewhat difficult question suggested by the words of Philippians now before us,—the two following paragraphs are, in substance, transferred from that work. The same is the case also with a paragraph on another branch of the same subject, in a previous lecture.

yet appeared in the sky. Scoffers say, ‘Where is the promise of His coming? for since the fathers fell asleep all things continue as they were from the beginning of the creation.’ How then could the Saviour’s second advent be predicted in those old days as then near? Because thus the eye of God sees it. The Apostle Peter, you will remember, answers the question in this way, telling us that when ‘some men count the Lord slack concerning His promise,’ they leave out of their computation this element, that with Him ‘a thousand years are as one day.’ God’s ‘soons’ and ‘ quicklies’ are not to be estimated by our impatient reckonings. ‘ Ethiopia shall soon stretch forth her hands unto God,’ comes sounding to us over the distance of three thousand years,—and how very partially is it yet fulfilled! ‘Near’ and ‘distant’ are relative terms. For the little child, whose limbs soon grow weary, the friend’s house is far away, which for his father is but a step from home. So to the child, reckoning by his life, an event seems long past, far away in a hoary antiquity, which to the man on whom have come the snows of many winters, and who reckons by his life, seems to have occurred but yesterday. Now faith, in the measure of its vigour, enables us to see things in the light of God, giving us oneness of view with Him. When, then, our apostle says, ‘ The Lord is at hand,’ he speaks as one who has been taught to reckon according to the years of the lifetime of the Most High—unbeginning, unending. On the same principle, you remember, in another place, he estimates the Christian’s affliction — affliction extending perhaps over threescore years and ten—as ‘ but for a moment,’ because the standard by which he computes is the ‘ eternal’ duration of the ‘ weight of glory’ which is to follow.

That such is the true explanation of ‘ nigh,’ ‘ soon,’ ‘ quickly,’ ‘at hand,’ in this connection, is shown by the fact that our Lord and the apostles tell us in other places*of various things, of a kind requiring what men call a long time, which are to happen before His coming. Paul, too, finding that the Thes-

salonians had misconceived the principle of the reckoning, expressly cautions them against their error, as a dangerous one. ‘Now we beseech you, brethren, by the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, and by our gathering together unto Him, that ye be not soon shaken in mind, or be troubled, neither by spirit, nor by word, nor by letter as from us, as that the day of Christ is at hand. Let no man deceive you by any means’ (2 Thess. 11. 1-3). Yet the church should always feel her Lord’s coming to be near; and when her faith is lively, and her love glowing, she does. As, under the clear Eastern sky, a range of lofty mountains, which is yet many days’ journey distant, seems almost at hand; so, in the pellucid atmosphere of faith, the great towering event of the future, dwarfing all else, seems close above us. In seasons of elevated spirituality we feel the advent to be near. Chronologically, perhaps many years, as men reckon, may yet be to elapse; but faith sees Him coming ‘like to a roe or a young hart leaping on the mountains of spices.’ And when the grand event has happened, brethren, and we look back upon it from the eternity of blessedness and glory, we shall see ever more clearly—for we shall understand the reckoning ever more perfectly—how exactly the Lord fulfilled His promise, ‘ Behold, I come quickly.’ The suffering Christians of Philippi might well cultivate ‘moderation’ of spirit and conduct with respect to their persecutors; we, too, in every trouble and alarm, may well ‘be patient, and stablish our hearts,—for ‘the Lord is at hand,’—*‘ the Judge standeth before the door.’

As we have seen, the substance of the 5th verse is this,— ‘In your trouble from persecutors, cast your burden on your Lord,—who will soon come, to introduce His people into the fulness of rest.’ The transition from this to the precept of the — 6th is simple and natural : ‘Remember, too, that your Father in heaven cares for you with tender love,—wherefore in all your difficulties and needs of every kind, go to Him by prayer.’

By the ‘ And’ which begins the 7th verse it is shown that

τ ΟΥ 2 ἊΝ vER. 6.7 Prayerfulness and the Peace of God. 361 the 6th and 7th belong closely to each other; and it is very important to notice this. The precept and the promise, which are felt by all of us to be most beautiful and precious separately, have yet a singularly exquisite loveliness in the connection originally given them by the Spirit.

The precept subdivides itself into a negative and a positive injunction. The negative is, ‘Ze careful for nothing” In illustrating .this, I must begin by obviating a natural misconception. Through alteration, since the time our translation of the Bible was made, in the shade of meaning attached to some English words, the rendering here,—and that other, of substantially the same original words, in the Sermon on the Mount, ‘Take no thought,’—inadequately represent the mind of the Spirit. Indeed, though at the time correct, according to the force given to ‘thought’ and ‘careful,’ they are now positively misleading. Literally understood, they appear to enjoin what is impracticable, and, even if it were practicable, would be a breach of Christian duty,—for the purpose of Christianity is the very opposite of making men /¢houghtless or careless. Its direct object is to lead to constant and intense thought and care regarding the interests of the soul; and its principles legitimately lead also to thought and care in regard to the interests of this life. Scripture distinctly enjoins, indeed, and that in very emphatic terms, that we should ‘provide for our own, specially for those of our own house,’ and that we should ‘ provide things honest (or honourable) in the sight of all men.’ Now this involves much of thought and care. The teachings of our religion, properly understood, give no discouragement, much encouragement, to diligence and discretion in every part of our life, and to all prudent worldly forethought, such as is exhibited in life-assurance and similar ways,—always provided that we remember to ‘ seek firs¢ the kingdom of God, and His righteousness.’

The truth is, that the force of the word which our translators have rendered by ‘ thought’ and ‘ care,’ is ‘ division, or distrac-

tion, of mind,’—such anxiety as is fitted to draw the mind away from God, distracting the Christian soul, making the earthly doubts and fears oppose but too effectually the heavenward longings, and rendering the believer for the time almost a ‘double-minded man.’ ‘In regard to nothing, have distracting anxiety, —this is the apostle’s precept. The Philippian Christians, like the great majority of Christians in all ages, were most of them poor, struggling hard for daily bread. They were exposed, as all of us are, to disease and pain and bereavement. They were liable, like ourselves, to be at times misjudged and calumniated. And, living as they did among a heathen population, they were exposed to forms of persecution of which, through God’s kind providence, we know nothing. ‘ Let none of these things move you,’ says Paul,—‘let none of them cause you tumult or distraction of soul. Never let your hearts be tossed with anxiety, like a ship driven hither and thither by the unruly billows.’

All of us, brethren, know by experience the power of worldly anxieties, of one kind or another, to enfeeble our religious energies, and diminish our religious enjoyments. We go to pray ; and when our thoughts and desires should ascend to God, these anxieties call them down, and drag them another way. We go to hear the word of God; and these anxieties, like the birds of the air in the parable, pick up the good seed almost before it reaches the ground. They haunt us in the closet, in the pew, at the communion table. They keep us from truly approaching God at all, or, if we enter His presence, it is with ‘the loins of our mind’ sadly ungirded—with the garments of our spirits dragging loosely, and sweeping after us the dust of the world. ‘If, then,’ says the apostle, ‘you desire to live a life of elevated spirituality, of holy happiness and full usefulness, let nothing cause you distracting anxiety.’

The noblest system of heathen philosophy regarded an equability of mind, imperturbable alike by the troubles and the allurements of the world, as the highest state of the soul.

But philosophy could furnish no adequate motive power for attaining this equability. It could only state the theory, and exhibit its importance. And, as was to be anticipated, human nature had its own way against philosophy. But the apostle of Jesus Christ can supply the missing link. He can not merely tell us to be tranquil, but show us how the tranquillity is to be attained, and maintained.

Let us now, then, look at the positive side of the precept:

“In everything, by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known unto God. It is true that all our circumstances, and all our thoughts and feelings regarding them, are already ‘known unto God. He

*compasseth our path and our lying down, and is acquainted with all our ways; and understandeth our thought afar off.’ Still, in regard to every blessing, He loves ‘ to be inquired of, to do it for us.’ In infinite wisdom and kindness He commands us to ‘ask,’ that we may ‘receive.’ Imagine that a mother among us were able to know, and to anticipate, all the troubles of her child, and did fully anticipate them, so that the child never came to her with any request,—do you think the life of either would be made happier by this,—that the sweetness of the blessed relation between mother and child would be by either more fully experienced? Do you suppose that such freedom from the need of expressing his affectionate dependence on his mother, and trust in her, would be for the good of the child? I know that the heart of every mother here responds at once with an unhesitating ‘God forbid that such should be the relation between me and my child!’ So we might conceive the system of relations between God and His people such that prayer was not called for. But what Christian does not feel that such a system would lack what his heart knows to be inexpressibly precious ? What man of prayer would be willing to give up the joy of asking His Father, even if he knew that blessings both temporal and spiritual would come to him abundantly without asking ὃ

‘ Prayer and supplication’ are several times spoken of together by Paul. The difference in meaning between the original words so translated seems to be, that the former is general, ‘a devotional approach to God,’—the latter, particular, ‘a special petition for the divine help.’ ‘ By prayer, and, in this exercise, not merely by general and, it may be, vague entreaty, but by definite petition regarding the matter which at the time burdens your hearts, let your desires—thus becoming always, in the measure of your spiritual enlightenment, your “* requests” —be made known unto God.’ Has there not been commonly, in our Scottish type of religion, think you, my brethren, too little of the particularity in prayer, which Paul here enjoins? In reverence, as we have thought, for the glory of God, have we not allowed ourselves to miss somewhat of a clear view of the glory of His Fatherly tenderness, as willing to listen lovingly to the tale of all our difficulties and wants? Has not heart been taken out of our devotional exercises sometimes by the generality to which we have thought it dutiful and becoming to confine ourselves? Would it not really honour God more, then, and would it not bring very much more comfort to ourselves, if we fully laid out the specialties of our position before Him? To want of this, I believe, is to be ascribed not a little of spiritual feebleness and spiritual gloom.

Observe the range of proper subjects of prayer—proper subjects of special petition,—‘ 22: everything. The antithesis to the first clause of the verse, ‘Be careful for nothing,’ is direct and complete. And, no doubt, there is a particular reference here, as there, to ¢emporal matters—persecution, poverty, and the like,—such as tended to arouse distracting care, and tempted to the despondency, or the sternness and vengefulness, against — which the precepts of the immediately preceding verses have been directed. A distinctive feature in the religion of the Bible, as compared with every system which has sprung up in — the corrupt heart of man, is the completeness with which it

embraces every element of our nature. A thoughtful heathen could rise to a wistful and vague idea that perhaps his sou might live for ever,—that the bird might soar to purer air and sing exultantly, when its prison cage, the body, was destroyed ; but an immortality of the body itself never entered his wildest dreams. The ‘babbler’ on Areopagus was deemed by the Athenians to set forth strange gods, when ‘he preached to them Jesus and the resurrection.’ The gospel recognises the body as essential to complete man,—not, as the sages of old would have it, an accidental companion, whose society degrades the soul. At the right hand of the Father, Jesus sits, in fashion as a man ; and, by and by, the bodies of His people shall be made like to His glorious body. Surely, then, when the Father watches over the sleeping dust of His saints, we may feel well assured that He will watch over their outward interests while they live, and hear and honour their prayers regarding the troubles and difficulties connected with the affairs of this world as lovingly as the petitions which bear immediately on their spiritual interests. The truth is, indeed, that, just because the body holds so important and influential a place in our nature, we cannot draw a sharp line of distinction between our spiritual and our outward interests. Our spiritual life and our visible life act constantly and most powerfully on each other. As we have seen in examining the negative precept, the troubles of our daily course—the difficulties, often of a most trifling kind, which yet tend so much to fret—affect our religious feelings strongly, and constitute indeed a most important part of the discipline by which God trains His children to spiritual wisdom. We may confidently look, surely, for His gracious answer to all prayers for guidance and support, in connection with any form of this discipline.

But do we not often forget this most blessed and consoling truth, dear friends? The wants which we consider strictly spiritual we carry to the throne of grace ; but in the cares of this world—in the disappointment of cherished hopes, the

thwarting of carefully devised plans, the anxieties of narrow income—do we not frequently nurse our depression, failing to remember the glorious breadth of the invitation and injunction, ‘ In everything by prayer and supplication let your requests be made known unto God’? Can we trust Him with our eternal welfare, and not with the care of our life here? ‘ Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow. They toil not, neither do they spin ; and yet I say unto you, that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. Wherefore, if God so clothe the grass of the field, which to-day is, and to-morrow is cast into the oven, shall He not much more clothe you, O ye of little faith?’ ‘Our Father which art in heaven, give us this day our daily bread.’ In regard to every department of our life, my brethren, the fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much, and will bring down showers of blessing, in views cleared, obstacles removed, and desires furthered, so far as it shall serve for God’s glory and the true good of the petitioner. Our Father’s providence knows no distinction of great, to be cared for, and minute, to be disregarded. He who ‘stretched out the heavens as a curtain,’ is the same who preserves the sparrows, and numbers the hairs of our heads. ‘In everything, then, let your desires be made known unto God,’—for whatever interests His people interests Him.

Further, the apostle enjoins upon us to offer our petitions ‘with thanksgiving. No true prayer lacks this. It is generally expressed, and always implied. ‘The renewed heart cannot but pour out its utterances of gratitude to Him who ‘ crowneth us with loving-kindness and tender mercies;’ and in the thanksgiving, we obtain encouragement for the supplication. ‘ The Lord hath been mindful of us; He w//7 bless us.’ The great general ground of thanksgiving is always present with us,—the ~ love of God in Christ, which permits us to look on Him against whom we had sinned, as our Father, and to approach Him — with filial confidence. However the believer may be situated, too, and whatever the nature of his petitions may be, he has —

always something special/ to thank God for. In sore affliction, a Christian rightly exercised—whilst he feels very deeply that certainly his position is ‘for the present not joyous, but grievous,’ and asks God for the lightening of His hand, if this be consistent with His will—feels, at the same time, joy and gratitude in the depths of his soul, in the knowledge that in sending such discipline ‘God dealeth with us as with sons, chastening us for our profit, that we may be made partakers of His holiness.’ He is always sensible, too, however severe his trial may be, that it is not so severe as it might have been, and as it would have been had he received his deserts at God’s hand. The rod of kindness has been employed, not the ‘scorpions’ of stern judgment. When Jerusalem was overthrown, and God’s covenant people were scorched with the flames of divine anger, they could still say, ‘ It is of the Lord’s mercies that we are not consumed.’ When prayer is sent up in an hour of sore temptation, there may well be special thanksgiving for strength already received, and for the guidance and impulse afforded by the earnest warnings of the Word, and its ‘exceeding great and precious promises.’ And even when, in the very saddest sense, a Christian’s cry to God is ‘out of the depths,—even when he has fallen into grievous sin,—still, surely, he has great cause of thanksgiving, that he has not been allowed to run on in sin, but has been led to the mercy-seat to seek forgiveness.

We have now examined with considerable fulness the apostle’s double precept. It is very important for us always to bear in mind that the contrast he exhibits is between prayerfulness and anxiety, not between prayerfulness and exertion. The sincere and intelligent offerer of prayer is always one who, at the same time, thoughtfully and watchfully and vigorously exerts himself for the attainment of the end he desires. He knows that God blesses labour, not indolence. To say ‘ Give us this day our daily bread,’ and at the same time to let the hands hang down in sloth,—to say ‘ Lead us not into tempta-

tion,’ and at the same time to go needlessly into positions where former experience has shown us that we ave in temptation,—this is but to insult God. No one ought to be so impelled to effort, or so sustained in effort, as he who has committed his way unto the Lord, and looks up for direction and support. No logical connection is more direct and complete than that which the apostle exhibits earlier in the epistle, ‘Work, for it is God which worketh in you.’

As has been already remarked, the connection between the 6th and 7th verses, shown by the ‘ Aud’ which introduces the 7th, is very close and very beautiful. ‘ Be careful for nothing ; but in everything by prayer let your requests be made known unto God; and—doing this you will find that—+the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.’

Within our hearts by nature, my brethren, there is rioting and turbulence, the will warring with the conscience, the fleshly lusts stifling the spiritual aspirations, and over all the dark shadow of a ‘fear that hath torment.’ ‘There is no peace, saith my God, to the wicked.’ Amid all the joys we have, the thought, more or less definite, of sin and its deserts will still enter, to mar happiness. This thought is ever a skeleton at the feast, a bitter in the cup of sweet, a blighting shadow on the flowery path. So long as there is dissension in the depths of our hearts,—so long as we carry about with us a half-acknowledged conviction that we must have been made for some end far higher and nobler than any we have attained, or are even aiming at, that ‘the wages of sin is death,’ and that we have earned them,—we cannot by possibility have true, satisfying peace.

But when faith sees the grace of God in Christ, then comes spiritual rest. Jesus ‘is our peace.’ The billows of self-reproach and anguish of conscience, even in their hour of wildest commotion, obey His voice, saying, ‘ Peace, be still.’ When our iniquities, like embattled hosts, array themselves against our peace, faith’s firm utterance of the name in which she trusts,

‘The Lord our Righteousness,’ can put their terrors all to flight. This sweet tranquillity of spirit is ‘the peace of God/— given by His grace, and essentially akin to the ineffable peace of His own nature. ‘The fruit of the Spirit’ of Him who ‘rests in His love,’ is, most naturally, ‘love, joy, peace.’

Those to whom the apostle wrote were already Christians. To some extent, therefore, they had experience of spiritual peace. But the connection in which he places his sweet assurance here, reminded them most helpfully of the nature and the needful sustenance of their happiness. ‘Let your hearts have ever a vivid sense of the /atherly relation to you of God in Christ; and seek close and constant communion with Him. Thus your “peace shall be as a river.” To “pray without ceasing” is the secret of ability to “rejoice evermore.” God “will keep the man in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on Him.”’ Such is evidently the apostle’s teaching ; and the experience of all generations of true believers, my brethren, has proved its truth. Amid the sorest buffetings of the storms of adversity, they who, through the energy of faith, are enabled ‘ in everything, by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, to let their requests be made known unto God,’ find breathed over their spirits a holy calm. Childlike trust like that of the shipmaster’s little son, in the familiar story, who had no fear, ‘ because his father was at the helm,’ will never fail to bring similar childlike rest.

This spiritual rest ‘passeth all understanding. To the natural man it is an utter mystery. -He may read of it in the Bible, or hear believers tell of their experience of it, but the words convey to his mind no distinct impression. No mode or amount of explanation could give a man, deaf from his birth, a clear apprehension of the sweetness of Handel’s rendering of * He shall feed His flock like a shepherd ;’ or a man blind from his birth, a clear apprehension of the glory of the sun, and the beauty of nature which the sun lights up everywhere. Similarly the unbeliever cannot by possibility see the splendours of the Sun of righteousness, or understand why Christians ‘ rejoice in that light,—cannot by possibility know the peace which Christ’s ‘little flock’ have in hearing the voice of their good Shepherd, and following Him. ‘The natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God, for they are foolishness unto him; neither can he know them, because they ἅτε. spiritually discerned.’

Even to believers themselves, too, this peace ‘ passeth all — ? understanding ; the apostle’s mind here. Its nature is transcendently sublime, and its preciousness immeasurable. It flows from ‘the love which passeth knowledge,’ and which ‘ does exceeding abundantly, above all that we ask or think.’ God alone fully understands the grandeur of His own gift. And this peace, dear friends, He offers freely to you and me, by nature ‘ alienated and enemies in our minds by wicked works.’ ‘ Behold, what manner of love !’

This wondrous peace, the apostle goes on to tell the Philippians, ‘shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus, Exactly rendered, the last words are ‘zz Christ Jesus,’ the phrase so dear to the apostle, and so constantly occurring in his letters. It is as in vital union to Christ,—it is through the wisdom and the energy given by His indwelling Spirit, that peace will carry on its blessed work. ‘As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, except it abide in the vine, no more and this, doubtless, is the thought mainly in» can ye except ye abide in Me,—for without Me ye can do nothing.’

‘In Him,’ then, ‘the peace of God shall keep our hearts? We have here a charming and most suggestive paradox,—for the word rendered ‘ £eep’ means strictly ‘to guard’ as a soldier. ‘The peace of God shall, with strength for war, defend you’ = —‘ shall garrison your hearts.’ Persecution may come to the © gates of the soul’s fortress, hurling against them its most appalling terrors ; but all who cast their care on God, knowing — that He careth for them, will, by the peace He inbreathes, be ἢ

shielded from tormenting fear and from apostasy. ‘These things I have spoken unto you,’—said the Lord, in ending His valedictory words to His disciples,—‘ hat in Me ye might have peace; in the world ye shall have tribulation, but be of good cheer,—I have overcome the world.’ These words are ‘ Yea and Amen in Him.’ They that heard the stern denunciations of Stephen ‘were cut to the heart, and gnashed on him with their teeth ; but he, being full of the Holy Ghost, looked up stedfastly into heaven, and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing at the right hand of God.’ Even under the twilight of the Old Economy, too, how gloriously the power of ‘ the peace of God’ to garrison the soul in time of trial was evinced! ‘Nebuchadnezzar spake and said unto Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, If ye worship not the golden image which I have set up, ye shall be cast the same hour into the midst of a burning fiery furnace ; and who is that God that shall deliver you out of my hands? Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego answered and said to the king, O Nebuchadnezzar, we are not careful to answer thee in this matter. If it be so, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and He will deliver us out of thine hand, O king. But if not, be it known unto thee, O king, that we will not serve thy gods, nor worship the golden image which thou hast set up.’ ‘In Him’ who was to be the mysterious Fourth with them, ‘walking in the midst of the fire,’ ‘ the peace of God guarded their hearts.’ ‘When He giveth quietness,’ dear brethren, ‘ who can make trouble ?’

Under trials of every kind the sublime power of this peace is shown. Place the believer where you will,—in sudden poverty,—on a bed of pain,—by the grave of a dear friend: he cannot but feel the affliction painful, perhaps very painful,— yet the guardian ‘peace of God’ will keep him from murmuring. He knows that, whatsoever passes away, his most precious treasure is safe for ever, and that ‘all things work together for good’ to him. He can say, therefore, ‘I have all and abound.

None of these things move me. Nay, in them all I am more than a conqueror, through Him that loved me.’

Against the seductions of worldly pleasure, too, where can any defence be found like that which heavenly peace supplies? Will a man sigh for husks, when he feels that God is giving him continually the bread of life? Will he who can say, ‘ The Lord is the portion of mine inheritance and of my cup,’ seek ‘to lay hold on folly’? ‘By faith Moses refused to be called the son of Pharaoh’s daughter, choosing rather to suffer affliction with the people of God than to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season,—esteeming the reproach of Christ greater riches than the treasures in Egypt, for he had respect unto the recompense of the reward.’

Still further, however,—not the ‘hearts’ only, but also the ‘minds, or ‘thoughts, of God’s people, are ‘kept’ by ‘joy and peace in believing.’ The missiles of unbelief, which are flying so thick and fast in our day, can make no impression on a mind defended by the ‘assurance of hope.’ The man of self-knowledge, who can say, with a full sense of the meaning of his declaration, ‘Thy words were found, and I did eat them, and Thy word is unto me the joy and rejoicing of mine heart,’ has here for himself an impregnable argument against all attempts to discredit the authority of that word, or to mystify or fritter away the gospel of Jesus Christ. This is a guardianship incomparably more secure than that which can be afforded by any acquaintance with the works of learned writers on the evidences of Christianity, or any skill in dialectic fence,— valuable as both of these are, in their own place ; and it is the guardianship, not of folly or inertness of spirit, but, as seen in the light of God, of the truest and deepest reason. ‘The man who has this peace of God, “has the witness in himself” which scoffers cannot silence. ‘Tell him that his Bible is not true,—that his Saviour has no existence,—that his religion is a fable, and his hope a dream; while you are talking and reasoning, he is feeling the power of all these things—experi- — x their truth and eater and blonetneen ‘His religion is ceas d to be a subject of speculation ; it has become ; atter of sense. You might as well tell him, in the b: ad t of day, that there is no sun in the heavens to shine ὁ or 1,—or that he himself, living, breathing, and acting, has no fence.’ 1 _ B

IJy nature, in many respects, ‘a reed shaken with the wine Lp 5. man in whom dwells ‘the peace of God’ has mind ¢ rd Ὁ heart shielded thereby. His thoughts of God are kept tn aa eronentiel his affections are kept set supremely on Him. e joy of the Lord is the strength’ of His saints. 1

Charles Bradley.

Published 2026-10-08 16:02