Four Links in the Chain of Grace

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"These all wait upon you; that you may give them their food in due season. When you give it to them they gather—you open your hand, they are filled with good. You hide your face, they are troubled—you take away their breath, they die, and return to their dust. You send forth your spirit, they are created—and you renew the face of the earth." Psalm 104:27-30

Jehovah is the God of nature, the God of providence, and the God of grace. In these three distinct departments, as regards his general government, there exists a striking analogy. The analogy is this—the existence and intermixture of good and evil in each, with general good as the result of the whole. Let me explain my meaning a little in detail.

In nature we see darkness and light, winter and summer, barren seasons and fruitful seasons, deformed creatures and beautiful creatures, vicious animals and useful animals; and yet good educed and evolved out of creation as it at present stands. Night and day, winter and summer, sun and storm, all work together to produce as the result a general benefit to the inhabitants of the earth.

In providence, we see sickness and health; adversity and prosperity; poverty and wealth; continually intermixed, and often succeeding each other; and yet, out of this strange intermixture good evolved to the objects of God's mercy.

And when we come to the department of grace, we view the same analogy. We see sorrow and joy; darkness and light; death and life; conviction and consolation; hidings of God's face and manifestations of mercy; despondency and hope; unbelief and faith; enmity and love; good and evil—in the department of grace, as well as that of nature and of providence; and yet, all in a mysterious manner working together for good to those who love God.

Living, as we do, in a fallen world, there exists a necessity that there should be this good and evil. If there were no evil, it would not be a fallen world; if there were no good, God would cease to be the governor of it. But if evil so prevailed as to overcome good, God would be thrust out of his own sovereignty, and Satan would successfully usurp his throne.

These remarks may perhaps throw some little light upon the passage before us, inasmuch as the words taken literally seem rather to refer to the works of creation and providence than to the work of grace. For the Psalm dwells much upon the glory of God in creation; and immediately preceding the words of our text, speaks of "the sea, vast and spacious, teeming with creatures beyond number--living things both large and small. There the ships go to and fro, and the leviathan, which you formed to frolic there." Then, turning to the great Creator and Preserver of all, the Psalmist bursts forth in the words of our text, extolling his providence, "These all wait upon you, that you may give them their food in due season," etc.

But, viewing the analogy which I have been endeavoring to show, may we not apply these words in a spiritual, experimental sense to the work of grace upon the soul? I think, if the Lord enables me to open up the words as I see them, we shall find that there is in them a sweet applicability, not only to the departments of creation and providence, but also in a special manner to the department of grace.

We may observe in the words before us four distinct features, corresponding with the four verses of which the text consists; and those I shall briefly name–
Waiting.
Giving.
Withdrawing.
Renewing.

I. WAITING. "These all wait upon you, that you may give them their food in due season." It is true, literally, that all the created beings of God's hand wait upon him. Upon him they are dependent for life and breath, and all things. But do they wait upon him in a way of consciousness? Is not their waiting a mute waiting? Must we not, then, rather adapt the words to the state, posture, and experience of the children of God? "These all wait upon you, that you may give then their food in due season." How true of, how applicable unto, the experience of God's family! For you will see, if the Lord enables me to draw out the words of our text, a chain running through the whole. You will find the work traced out from the beginning, and carried on through its successive changes, so as to embrace and comprise the whole work of grace upon a saved sinner's conscience.

"These all wait upon you, that you may give them their food in due season." Until the Lord is pleased to begin a work of grace upon the soul, we know nothing of what spiritual "food" is. Having no spiritual appetite, we cannot long after spiritual food. The things of time and sense, the charms of sin, the occupations of life—these are the food of our natural mind. We have no sight to see, nor taste to relish the food that God has in reserve for his hungry and thirsty people. The Lord, therefore, in the opening up of his ministry laid this down as one of the first marks of spiritual life; "Blessed are those who hunger and thirst after righteousness;" implying that to hunger and thirst after righteousness is one of the first things that God bestows upon the soul. Now until this spiritual appetite is given, until the eyes are opened to see, until the heart is divinely wrought upon to feel, we have no spiritual hungering and thirsting after the provisions of God's house. But it is with the quickened soul as with the awakened and returning prodigal; "a famine arose in that land, and he began to be in need;" and when the famine came, and he began to be in need, "he would gladly have filled his belly with the husks which the swine ate." Yet he could not do so; a new appetite was given him; he hungered after solid food; and he remembered there was "bread in his father's house and to spare," while he was "perishing with hunger."

Thus one of the first marks and evidences of spiritual life, one of the first effects of a divine work upon the soul is to hunger after heavenly food. This food is Christ, for he is "the bread of life;" and the soul really convinced of sin, stripped of all righteousness, brought down into the dust, and made to long, hunger, and thirst after the manifestations of Jesus, is waiting upon God for "food" which he alone can give. This the text expresses, pointing out thereby the first work of grace upon the soul—"These all wait upon you, that you may give then their food in due season."

But God has appointed to give this "food" at a due season; that season cannot be hurried nor delayed; no human power can bring it forward, and no human power can keep it back. Knowing this, and not being able to bring food into his own mouth, to make Christ precious to his own soul, or feed upon the manna until God brings it into his heart, a convinced sinner is one that waits upon God. "These all wait upon you." And they wait upon him, knowing that he is able to give them that "food" which their souls hunger after. They wait in secret prayer; they wait with many a sigh and cry at the footstool of mercy. They wait with many longings, breathings, and supplications; and they wait until often their eyes seem to fail with weariness. The Lord has declared these "blessed;" but the blessing seems so long before it reaches them, that despondency will often work in their minds whether the blessing will ever come to their souls. But knowing that nothing short of the blessing can really satisfy or save, that God must be the sole giver of it, and being encouraged by the promises, and by the blessed Spirit in their heart as "the Spirit of grace and supplication," to pour out their soul before God, they are brought to wait, to look, long, beg, and supplicate until the Lord graciously appears.

Now these early dawnings of grace upon the soul; these waitings upon God for him to be gracious; these hungerings, thirstings, pantings, and desires, seem, to my mind, set forth in the first words of our text—"These all wait upon you, that you may give them their food in due season."

And in what a gracious posture does it represent the children of God—waiting upon him! If they wait upon him, they must have faith; because without faith they cannot believe he is a God able to bestow this food upon them. If they wait, they must have perseverance; for they have to endure repeated and heart-oppressing disappointments. If they wait, they must have patience; for patience in this, as in other respects, must have its perfect work. If they wait, they must have the spirit of prayer; for only by a spirit of prayer are they enabled to wait. If they wait, they must have some hope that in due season God will confer the very blessing upon them; though "hope deferred makes the heart sick." They must also have a measure of love for the food they are longing after, or else they would not desire that God Himself would put that food into their mouth. And thus, though not themselves able to trace out the work of grace in a clear, definite manner, yet we see—as in the case of an infant, all the members of a man—so in these infants, these babes of grace, all the members of the new man, which are afterwards more completely developed.

II. GIVING. "When you give it to them they gather. You open your hand, they are filled with good." This is true in providence. The beasts of the field, the fowls of the air, the fish of the sea, all have food appointed for them. None die of hunger; and what God gives them, in that sense they gather. But how much more true is this of the spiritual and experimental food given to and gathered by a child of God?

Two things, I think, may be seen as connected with this giving—first, the first droppings of mercy, favor, and love upon them—"When you give it to them they gather." And secondly, the more open hand of God, when the blessing comes into their soul in a fuller, more blessed, and wider sense—"You open your hand, they are filled with good."

1. "When you give it to them they gather." There is some allusion perhaps to the manna in the wilderness as descriptive of the way in which he drops tokens, favors, smiles, glances, and glimpses on his waiting people. "What you give—they gather." Nothing else—they cannot take any consolation from man; they cannot feed upon anything that the creature produces—their long famine has completely famished them out of house and home. Gifts, abilities, creature righteousness and native strength, human wisdom, fleshly holiness, these are the husks which they cannot feed upon. Christ alone in his sweet manifestations, in his dying love, in his beauty, and blessedness, in his rich suitability, is the food God has provided for them; and as they wait upon God, from time to time he lets fall out of his eternal bounty crumbs and drops, sips and tastes of the mercy that he has stored up in Jesus.

Thus sometimes a sweet promise comes into their heart; sometimes their case is described in a sermon; sometimes at the throne of grace they find liberty and unexpected access; the word of God is opened up in some special manner; or some melting feelings are produced in their soul, perhaps on a sudden, by a discovery of the Lord Jesus Christ. Now this God "gives." His truth falls; a word drops; a blessing comes with it; there is a sweetness in it to their taste; a reality, a light, a life, a power, a blessedness, a heart-melting, soul-softening suitability accompany God's truth. This they "gather" reverentially, believingly, humbly, affectionately, hopingly, lovingly; they store it up in their heart; they ponder over it; they feel a blessedness in it; they take it home with them; it goes to sleep with them; it rises in the morning with them; it takes them through the day; they have got, felt, enjoyed something; some liberty, some love, some assurance, some manifestation, some testimony, something which has come from God into their souls, something really felt as a blessing in their hearts. This God has given perhaps when they least expected it—when almost worn out with waiting, despairing and fearing the blessing would never come; but it comes unexpectedly, overwhelmingly; and being given, they "gather" it gratefully and happily, and their hearts are softened, blessed, and melted by the goodness and felt mercy of God to them.

2. But this is not all. "You open your hand." What the Lord has yet given (if I may use the figure) he gives but with his fingers; he drops a little here and there; but the great blessing is in his hand, lodged and locked up there; and they unable to obtain it. Yet they try hard; they say, 'I am not satisfied; these sips, these tastes, drops, glimpses, glances, breakings in, meltings down, are not sufficient. O, this is not a complete deliverance; this does not break off all my legal chains; this does not fully assure me that I am one of the Lord's people; it is so soon gone off; the feeling did not last; it was too transient; I want something greater, more powerful, more abiding, more heart-assuring, something of which I can say more certainly, This is indeed of God.'

"You open your hand." And when at last the Lord opens his hand, gives largely out of it, and blesses the soul fully, completely, and perfectly, he pours out of his hand all that is contained there, which is, Christ in his blessedness, in his fullness, blood, righteousness, and love. When God opens his hand, and gives thus fully, liberally, largely, and blessedly, then they are "filled with good;" they seem to want no more; the Lord has filled and blessed their souls; they are overwhelmed with a sense of God's goodness; they feel they have all they want; enjoy, if possible as much as they can enjoy; and their souls are exceedingly happy and blessed in the Lord.

III. WITHDRAWING. But is this to last? Are they to swim down this sea of prosperity? Does the Lord mean this to be their happy lot unto the end? Now comes the change. I observed in my outset that in the ways of grace, as well as in nature and of providence, there were changes. Good and evil, light and darkness, life and death, and these intermixed and blended. So there is a withdrawing, our third point. "You hide your face." The Lord withdraws himself; he suspends his favors; he does not manifest himself as in times past; he withholds the light of his countenance. And what is the consequence? "They are troubled." The soul has lost its God, lost its Christ, lost its happiness and blessedness; therefore no wonder that it is troubled. If God hides his face, a soul must needs be troubled that knows his presence and smiles.

1. But what makes God hide his face? He does not always give us the reason of these matters; but, generally speaking, it is the intervention of some sin between God and us. I do not mean open sin. God forbid; but some backsliding of heart, some idol set up in the chambers of imagery, some departing from the fountain of living waters to hew out the broken cisterns that hold no water. At any rate, whether it arises from this or not, whether it be the exercise of pure sovereignty on the part of God, or traceable to anything provoking in us—whatever be the cause, the change does come; he does hide his face. And when God hides his face, the soul is troubled, because it has lost everything that makes life happy and blessed; it has lost everything that really made life worth living for, and death worth dying for.

It is a good thing that the soul is "troubled;" it shows the reality of the work of grace upon the heart, that the hidings of God's face, and the withdrawings of his favor, do give trouble. It shows a tenderness of conscience, a singleness of eye to God's glory, and that the visitations of God's favor make up the soul's only happiness.

One cannot understand a man's religion who feels no trouble when God hides his face, when he has no access to his throne. If he can be as happy without God as with him, as happy in God's absence as in his presence, in darkness as in light, it does not seem as if he knew much of a present God—a God of light, and liberty, and love—as though he knew much of communion with God, access unto him, communion with him, making him his all in all. Where money is a man's god, he does not part with that so readily. Disappointments in worldly things are not taken so coolly. If a clerk goes to a merchant or stockbroker, and tell him of a heavy loss, he does not take it as a matter of indifference, as a professor would take the loss of God. "Where the treasure is, the heart must be." If the soul is really healthy to God, thirsting after him, or has ever enjoyed him, it must needs feel the withdrawing of his presence, the hiding of his countenance. Thus, when the Lord hides his face, they are "troubled."

2. But there is another expression, which at first sight seems scarcely applicable to the work of grace; and yet I do not see how we can carry out the chain without taking this too into consideration. And I can myself, I think, see a light in it in which the dealings of God seem reflected. "You take away their breath; they die, and return to their dust." Is not God our life? Is he not the author of our spiritual breath, as well as of our natural breath? But when he takes away the spirit of prayer, when he removes the enjoyment of his presence in the heart, when he takes away himself who is the breath of our very life, then we die; the soul sinks in its own feelings, into sensible death; it dies as to any enjoyment of God's presence, as to any feeling realization of his favor. Compared with its former lively feeling, its feelings are now those of death. "Free among the dead," the Psalmist says, "like the slain that lie in the grave." If God's presence be life, his absence is death. If the enjoyment of God's favor be the breath of the soul, the denial of God's favor is the death of the soul. If he takes away our breath, in taking away himself—if he takes away our life, in taking away his presence—if he takes away our enjoyment, in taking away the source of the enjoyment, we die.

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