A Believer’s Dialogue with His Soul

Next Part A Believer’s Dialogue with His Soul 2

"Why are you cast down, O my soul? and why are you disturbed within me? Hope in God; for I shall yet praise him, who is the health of my countenance, and my God." –Psalm 42:11

What a proof it is of the truth and inspiration of the Word of God, that no sooner is the Lord pleased to quicken our souls into spiritual life, than we find the Bible to become our companion, counselor, and friend. True, we might possibly before that time, from a sense of duty or out of custom, have read the Scriptures, and that diligently. We might have been taught them from childhood, and committed large portions to memory; or even have been able so far to understand them as to speak fluently upon the truths contained in them, and contend for the doctrines of grace against opponents. But though we might have done all this, and much more than this, for who can say how far nature may go? Yet for the most part, how listlessly and languidly was the word of God read by us; how little was its spiritual meaning understood; how much less were the solemn realities revealed in it believed or acted upon.

We might not have doubted the inspiration of the Bible, and might have regarded it with a degree of reverence as the word of God; but with all that outward respect, there was no real faith in our heart either to fear the threatenings, or to receive the promises. We never obtained through it any well-grounded hope in the mercy of God; we never felt from it any spiritual love to his name, or to any truth connected with the Person and work of Christ. Nor did it ever work in us any humility of mind, brokenness of heart, contrition of spirit, or any obedience to God’s will, or create any earnest desire to please him, or solemn fear to offend him. And thus, as regards what the word of God was to us, as to any saving or sanctifying effect upon our hearts or upon our lives, it was a perfect blank to us, and we as great a blank to it.

But O what a change takes place in the soul’s feelings towards the word of God when God is pleased to quicken it into divine life! Nor indeed need we wonder why there is such a marked revolution in our feelings toward it; for it is by the power of God’s word upon the heart, that this wondrous change is effected. "Of his own will he begat us with the word of truth, that we should be a kind of first-fruits of his creatures." "Being born again, not of corruptible seed, but of incorruptible, by the word of God, which lives and abides forever." "This is my comfort in my affliction--for your word has quickened me."

By that same word we were convinced of our sins; "For the word of God is quick, and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart."

By the power of that word also upon our consciences, we were, in due time, enabled to believe in the Son of God; for it is through his word applied to the heart with a divine power, that faith is raised up to believe in his name; and then it is, as the Lord said to his disciples, "The words that I speak unto you, they are spirit and they are life." And this spirit and life are the spirit and life of faith, and specially of that faith which embraces Him as the Son of God; for when he is pleased to apply his precious word to the heart, and in the power of that word to manifest himself, faith is raised up to receive his testimony, and thus his word is made Spirit and life to the soul. This made Jeremiah say: "Your words were found, and I did eat them; and your word was unto me the joy and rejoicing of mine heart."

In a similar way, when the soul is cast down by reason of the many difficulties of the way, that word becomes its support. "My soul faints for your salvation: but I hope in your word." When we are in difficulties or perplexities, that word becomes our counselor; as David found it: "Your testimonies also are my delight and my counselors." And again, "Your word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path." And the counsel it gives us is good counsel, for it tells us how to act and what to do--bids us cast our care upon the Lord, for he will sustain us; bids us be still and know that He is God; warns us not to fight our own battles, or go forth to meet the enemy in our own strength; but to watch, and pray, and wait for the Lord to appear.

If we are persecuted by our enemies as David was by Saul, when he was hunted like a partridge upon the mountains, it is by the power and support of that word we get strength to bear their cruel accusations and to stand firm against their attacks. This made David say, "They had almost consumed me upon earth--but I forsook not your precepts."

If Satan comes in like a flood, the Spirit of the Lord by the power of his word lifts up a standard against him. If we slip and start aside from the strait and narrow way, the word comes to restore us--"He restores my soul". Ps 23:3 for it is by believing God’s promise of freely forgiving all iniquity, transgression, and sin, that our backslidings are healed and our souls brought back from bondage, carnality, and death.

In fact it is by the power of his word upon our heart, that the whole work of grace upon the soul is carried on from first to last. By its promises we are drawn, by its precepts we are guided, by its warnings we are admonished, by its reproofs we are rebuked, by its rod we are chastened, by its support we are upheld; in its light we walk, by its teachings are made wise, by its revivings are renewed, and by its truth are sanctified. Not that the word of God can of itself do all or any of these things in us and for us; but in the hands of the Spirit, who works in and by it as his effectual instrument, all these gracious operations are carried on in the soul.

Now can we say this, or anything similar to this, of any other book? Other books may instruct or amuse--they may feed the intellect, charm the imagination, and cultivate the mind. But what more can they do? I do not mean by this to despise or set aside every other book but the Bible; for without books society itself, as at present constituted, could not exist; and to burn every book would be to throw us back into the barbarism of the Middle Ages. Let, then, books have their place as regards this life--but what can they do far us as regards the life to come? What can our renowned authors, our choice classics, our learned historians, our great dramatists, or our eloquent poets do for the soul in seasons of affliction and distress? Can they heal a wounded conscience? Can they put away a sense of God’s wrath? Can they restore the joys of salvation, when, through guilt and fear, they seem well near gone? Can they support a dying man upon his bed of sickness? Can they take away the sting of death and snatch victory from the grave? How powerless all human writings are in these circumstances. Is it not as Mr. Deer well says?

<dir> What balm could wretches ever find
In wit, to heal affliction?
Or who can cure a troubled mind
With all the pomp of diction?

</dir> Now here is the blessedness of the word of God, that when everything else fails, that comes to our aid under all circumstances, so that we never can sink so low as to get beyond the reach of some promise in the word of truth. We may come, and most probably shall come, to a spot where everything else will fail and give way but the word of God which forever is settled in heaven. Then the word of grace and truth which reaches down to the lowest case, the word of promise upon which the Lord causes the soul to hope, will still turn towards us a friendly smile, and still encourage us under all circumstances to call upon the name of the Lord, and to hang upon his faithfulness who has said, "Heaven and earth shall pass away, but my words shall not pass away." Thus, under circumstances the most trying to flesh and blood, where nature stands aghast and reason fails, there the word of God will come in as a counselor to drop in friendly advice, as a companion to cheer and support the mind by its tender sympathy, and as a friend to speak to the heart with a loving, affectionate voice. We need not wonder, then, how the word of God has been prized in all ages by the family of God; for it is written with such infinite wisdom, that it meets every case, suits every circumstance, fills up every aching void, and is adapted to every condition of life and every state both of body and soul.

These thoughts spring up in my mind in connection with my text. What that connection is may perhaps be more evident as I unfold it; but is not this a wonderful circumstance, that if your soul is cast down within you and your mind disturbed, and yet you are hoping in God and expecting him to appear, you have a companion in the word of God; and that our text assures you that there was one before you walking in the same path, and in whose heart the Spirit of God wrought feelings and desires similar to yours? Let us, then, see whether, as you compare the things that you pass through with the word of truth, you will not find a reflection of your experience, and an echo of your voice in the words of the Psalmist now before us.

We see in them a pathetic colloquy which David carries on with his soul; and that from this colloquy he gathers up hope and encouragement for himself. I shall, therefore, simply follow the order in which the words present themselves to our view, and shall

I. First, address myself to the consideration of David’s stirring inquiry to his soul– "Why are you cast down, O my soul? and why are you disturbed within me?"

II. Secondly, I shall consider the encouraging admonition, which he addresses to his soul as thus cast down and disturbed– "Hope in God."

III. Thirdly, the confident expectation, which he gathers up in this colloquy, that the dark cloud will pass away and the time come when he shall praise Him who was "the health of his countenance and his God".

I. David’s Stirring Inquiry to His Soul– "Why are you cast down, O my soul? and why are you disturbed within me?"

Observe the tender and familiar way in which David converses with his own soul, as a tender and sympathizing bosom companion.

1. But how few, speaking comparatively, know that they have a soul which they can thus talk to? Indeed, I may say, that it is really a very great discovery when a man discovers, for the first time, that he has a soul in his breast. The great bulk of mankind, may we not indeed say, all who are destitute of divine life, do not really and truly know that they have a soul. This may seem harsh doctrine, but at any rate they act as if they had none. In fact, a man never really and truly discovers that he has a soul until he discovers that there is a God, nor does he ever discover that there is a God until a ray of divine light shines out of the fullness of God into his heart. I do not mean to say that men actually in so many words deny either the existence of the soul or the existence of God. But we must judge men from their actions; and if they act as if they had no soul to be saved or lost, and as if there were no God who would bring them into judgment, we must conclude that they do not believe either in heart, though they may not boldly and positively deny it in lip.

But a man never knows really and truly that he has a soul until there is life put into it; for a dead soul makes no movement in his breast, and is therefore not known to be there. It is like a stillborn child, which gives no sign or movement of life, and therefore is to its mother as if it were not. We need not wonder the child does not cry if it be dead; we need not marvel it does not move a limb if stillborn. How does the child make its existence known but by the cry and the movements of life? Thus it is in grace--we never know really that we have a soul until it is made alive unto God and cries unto him. Then we begin find for the first time, that we have a soul by the cry of life; and then our soul becomes a matter of the deepest interest to us; for we find that, according to the word of God, it must either be eternally saved or lost; and as we cannot separate enduring happiness or misery from the soul which is the seat of both, it becomes to us the most important thing that we have ever had to deal with. This brings us into an intimacy and a sympathy with it.

O what a tender part of a man his soul is, when God has put life and feeling into it; what a valuable part, in fact, the only valuable part, for it alone can never perish, it alone is the immortal part of man. Being, then, so tender and so valuable, lying so deeply hidden in the breast, and yet ever present and ever ready to speak and be spoken unto, an intimate friendship and a tender sympathy springs up between a man and his soul. Intimate is the friendship between brother and brother, between sister and sister, between friend and friend, and more intimate still between man and wife. But what is the intimacy, even of man and wife, the nearest, tenderest, of all relationships, compared with the intimacy that a man has with his own soul? How a man can talk to his soul, reason with it, comfort it, chide it, encourage it, remonstrate with it; and how the soul can talk again with him, listen to his words, re-echo them and answer them; how, sometimes, it will give heed to his counsel, at others, obstinately refuse even lawful comfort; as David speaks, "My soul refused to be comforted."

We need not, then, wonder that David and his soul talked together, both in our text and elsewhere, nor that he should seek to cheer it up; for if his soul were cast down, he was cast down. The sorrows of his soul were his sorrows, as the joys of his soul were his joys; the pangs his soul felt were his pangs, and its distress was his distress; and felt all the more because it touched such a tender and valuable part as the 'dear friend that dwelt in his breast'. Not that I mean to separate a man from his soul, as though the soul was one thing and his consciousness of having a soul was another. Nor shall I plunge into the depths of metaphysics, or bring forward speculative ideas and imaginative notions. I wish to avoid all such vain ideas and foolish speculations, and merely take the broad ground that God takes here in bringing before us the language of David; for he evidently is set before us in the word of truth as talking with his soul, and asking it why it is cast down.

But, following out the analogy and carrying on the figure, the soul may be considered as answering his question; for if David said, "Why are you cast down, O my soul?" we may well conceive the soul may return him some answer, or else there could be no mutual converse or affectionate and sympathizing dialogue between them. Now, if we may be allowed to listen to what the soul says, or if I, as an interpreter, may interpret to you its language, we may conceive it speaking thus--"I will tell you David, why I am cast down; for I know that in you I shall have a sympathizing friend; I will not, therefore, keep back why I am cast down and why I am disturbed, for it will relieve me and may help to comfort you."

2. I shall, therefore, speaking as it were for the soul, endeavor to show various causes why it is often cast down and disturbed, and thus may be able to return some answer to David’s anxious enquiry, which I will assume is often your own.

"One thing," says the soul, "which casts me down, is guilt upon the conscience." The very idea of being cast down is that of a person thrown down from a high into a low place. Thus the soul had stood in pride and self-righteousness. It had no knowledge of the majesty or holiness of God, nor of the demands of his righteous law. But the entrance of God’s word giving light, and the power of his grace giving life, the holiness of God is seen and the demands of the law are felt. Now the effect of this is to cast down the soul from its vain-confident, hypocritical, presumptuous security; and nothing casts it down so much as a load of guilt which is thus laid upon the conscience. I may be addressing myself, even now, to some individual who at this moment is suffering under distress of conscience, who knows the burden of guilt, and is cast down through the recollection of some sin or sins which he has committed, and the guilt of which has brought him into much distress and anxiety of mind.

Now, may I not say to such a one, "Why are you cast down, O soul? Is there no remedy for you in this cast-down state? Has not the Lord Jesus Christ shed his precious blood to put away sin by the sacrifice of himself? Is there not in him a sufficiency, and with him, as the Scripture speaks, ‘plenteous redemption?’ Is there not in His blood an efficacy which cleanses from all sin, and in His righteousness a fulfillment of the law, which perfectly justifies?" "Ah," says the soul, "there is, I know there is. On that point I am well satisfied. I do not doubt the efficacy of Christ’s blood and righteousness. But what I want to feel is the application of that precious blood, the pardon-speaking voice of the Lord himself, the inward whisper, the sweet testimony, the gracious assurance, and the word from the Lord’s own lips, that shall heal my guilty conscience, and pour oil and wine into my troubled spirit."

But let us hear the soul speaking again; for it has other things which cast it down--"What casts me down is finding so much sin working in my carnal mind, and manifesting itself in my fleshly members to bring forth fruit unto death. O that I could be holy, walk tenderly in the fear of God, get the better of besetting sins, never be entangled in, or overcome by, the power of temptation, so that I might live more as becomes a Christian, have more of the life and fear of God in my soul, and find less inward conflict, less opposition, and less evil, with a more abundant measure of the love of God shed abroad in my heart!" "Well, cast-down soul, you are only cast down as most, if not all, of God’s people have been in all ages, and are at the present time. It is the body of sin and death that we have to carry about with us, the depravity of our fallen nature, the lusts and abominations that lurk and work in our vile imagination, if they go no further, which give us all this trouble. How many are continually sighing and mourning because they have so little of the image of Christ stamped upon them, so little of the holiness of God made conspicuous in them, so little of that blessed sanctification of body, soul, and spirit, that we see in the word and strive after, and yet find so little carried on and carried out in ourselves."

But the soul speaks again, and says, "What casts me down is the temptations of Satan, the hurling in of his fiery darts, and the stirring up of every vile abomination in the depths of my wicked nature; so that I seem at times to be worse than the devil himself. Where can the fear of God be in my heart, the life of Christ in my conscience, or the teaching and testimony of the Holy Spirit within, to be so subject to these temptations and to find them so stir up the corruptions of my vile nature?"

But the soul has yet to speak, "O, how long have I been praying for a manifestation of Christ! How I have seen one after another delivered from bondage, doubt, and fear; and yet here I am, after long years of profession, much in the same spot. O I do not seem to get one step forward in the things of God, or get on as I see others do! O how my soul longs for a word from the Lord, if it were but one word; one smile, if it were but one faint smile; one turning of the Lord’s face toward me; one breaking in of the light of his countenance; one manifestation of his mercy and love to my heart; one drop of his blood upon my conscience; one discovery of him so as to know that he is mine!"

But as the soul is still free to speak, and can almost say with Elihu, "I will speak that I may be refreshed," we will hear its voice speaking again--"I have great troubles in Providence, heavy trials in my family, am much exercised in my business, for all things seem against me, and this casts me down, for I think God is angry with me, and therefore his hand has gone out against me."

But let us hear its voice once more, and let it speak for you, lest you should think yourself left out; "Do what I will, I cannot be what I would. I try to read the word, but seem neither to understand nor to believe it; I bend my knee before the throne, but have little access to the throne of grace; I come to hear, and often go away as I came, without any power, life, or feeling under the word to my heart; I talk to the people of God and hear them speak how the Lord appears for them here and there; but my mouth is silent, for I have nothing to tell them in return."

3. But what is the effect of the soul being, in these various ways, cast down? Disquiet. For David says, still addressing his soul, "And why are you disturbed within me?" "O," the soul says, "there is no rest in my bosom! I cannot get that solid peace which I am looking for, and which Christ has promised he will give to his disciples as his own peace, his abiding legacy. But instead of feeling sweet peace, a holy calm of mind, producing submission to the will of God, reconciling me to the path of affliction, bowing my back to every chastening stroke, making me to rejoice even in tribulation, and conforming me to the suffering image of Christ; instead of this, I find rebellion, restlessness, disquietude, so as rarely to know a moment’s solid rest or peace."

Somewhat in this way, then, in answer to the question, "Why are you disturbed within me?" we may suppose the soul to say, "I have told you the things that cast me down; do they not afford sufficient reason to explain why I am disturbed within me?"

But let me now apply this more particularly to your case. Does not all this disquietude teach you that there is no solid rest nor peace except in the Lord? Out of him all is disquiet, confusion, restlessness, and uneasiness. Now it is life within which makes us feel all this; and therefore, if you, or any of you, are thus cast down and your soul is thus disturbed within you, do not do you think are traveling a path unknown to the family of God, or that yours is a solitary case. Depend upon it, you have many companions in this road besides the companionship of your own soul. And do you not see, that David traveled in the same path before you, and that God has left upon record the exercises of his soul, that they might encourage others who are similarly dealt with? Why should David have talked the matter over with his soul ages ago; and why should the Holy Spirit have left upon permanent record his conversation with his bosom friend? Why should he have removed the veil, which at the time hung over David’s inmost thoughts and feelings, and brought to light his secret communing with his bosom friend, except to cheer, comfort, and encourage those who should afterwards travel by the same path?

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