Over the Mountains 2

III. Here arises THAT PRAYER OF THE TEXT WHICH FULLY MEETS THE CASE.

"Turn, my Beloved, and be like a roe or a young hart upon the mountains of division." Jesus can come to us, when we cannot go to Him. The roe and the young hart, or, as you may read it, the gazelle and the ibex, live among the crags of the mountains, and leap across the abyss with amazing agility. For swiftness and sure-footedness they are unrivalled. The sacred poet said, "He makes my feet like deer's feet, and sets me upon my high places," alluding to the feet of those creatures which are so fitted to stand securely on the mountain sides. Our blessed Lord is called, in the title of the twenty-second Psalm, "the Deer of the morning"; and the spouse in this golden Canticle sings, "My Beloved is like a roe or a young hart; behold He comes, leaping upon the mountains, skipping upon the hills."

Here I would remind you that this prayer is one that we may fairly offer, because it is the way of Christ to come to us when our coming to Him is impossible. "How?" do you say. I answer that of old He did this; for we remember "His great love with which He loved us even when we were dead in trespasses and in sins." His FIRST COMING into the world in human form-- was it not because man could never come to God until God had come to him? I hear of no tears, or prayers, or entreaties after God on the part of our first parents; but the offended Lord spontaneously gave the promise that the Seed of the woman should bruise the serpent's head. Our Lord's coming into the world was unbought, unsought and unthought of- he came altogether of His own free will, delighting to redeem.

"With pitying eyes, the Prince of grace

Beheld our helpless grief;

He saw, and oh, amazing love!

He ran to our relief."

His incarnation was a type of the way in which He comes to us by His Spirit. He saw us cast out, polluted, shameful, perishing- and as He passed by, His tender lips said, "Live!" In us is fulfilled that word, "I was found by them that did not seek Me." We were too averse to His holiness, too much in bondage to sin, to ever have returned to Him if He had not first turned to us.

What do you think? Did He come to us when we were His enemies, and will He not visit us now that we are His friends? Did He come to us when we were dead sinners, and will He not hear us now that we are weeping saints? If Christ's coming to the earth was after this manner, and if His coming to each one of us was after this style, we may well hope that now He will come to us in like fashion-- like the dew which refreshes the grass, and does not wait for man, neither tarries for the sons of men.

Besides, He is coming again in person, in the LAST DAY, and mountains of sin, and error, and idolatry, and superstition, and oppression stand in the way of His kingdom-- but He will surely come and overturn them, until He shall reign over all! He will come in the last days, I say, though He must leap over these mountains to do it- and because of that I am sure we may comfortably conclude that He will draw near to us who mourn His absence so bitterly. Then let us bow our heads a moment, and silently present to His most excellent Majesty the petition of our text: "Turn, my Beloved, and be like a roe or a young hart upon the mountains of division."

Our text gives us sweet assurance that our Lord is at home with those difficulties which are quite insurmountable by us. Just as the roe or the young hart knows the passes of the mountains, and the stepping-places among the rugged rocks, and is void of all fear among the ravines and the precipices-- so does our Lord know the heights and depths, the torrents and the caverns of our sin and sorrow. He carried the whole of our transgressions, and so became aware of the tremendous load of our guilt.

He is also quite at home with the infirmities of our nature-- He knew temptation in the wilderness, heartbreak in the garden, and desertion on the cross. He is quite at home with pain and weakness, for "Himself took our infirmities, and bore our sicknesses." He is at home with despondency, for He was "a Man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief." He is at home even with death, for He gave up His spirit, and passed through the sepulchre to resurrection.

O yawning gulfs and frowning steeps of woe and despair- our Beloved, like hind or hart, has traversed your glooms! O my Lord, You know all that divides me from You; and You know also that I am far too feeble to climb these dividing mountains, so that I may come to You; therefore, I beg You, come over the mountains to meet my longing spirit! You know each yawning gulf and slippery steep, but none of these can keep You back-- hasten to me, Your servant, Your beloved, and let me again live in Your presence.

It is easy, too, for Christ to come over the mountains for our relief. It is easy for the gazelle to cross the mountains- it is made for that end. Just so is it easy for Jesus, for to this purpose was He ordained from of old that He might come to man in his worst estate, and bring with Him the Father's love. What is it that separates us from Christ? Is it a sense of sin? You have been pardoned once, and Jesus can renew most vividly a sense of full forgiveness. But you say, "Alas! I have sinned again: fresh guilt alarms me." He can remove it in an instant, for the fountain appointed for that purpose is still opened, and is still so full. It is easy for the dear lips of redeeming love to put away the child's offences, since He has already obtained pardon for the criminal's iniquities. If with His heart's blood He won our pardon from our Judge, he can easily enough bring us the forgiveness of our Father. Oh, yes, it is easy enough for Christ to say again, "Your sins are forgiven."

You say, "But I feel so unfit, so unable to enjoy communion with Him." He that healed all manner of bodily diseases can heal with a word your spiritual infirmities. Remember the man whose ankle-bones received strength, so that he ran and leaped! And remember her who was sick with a fever, and was healed at once, and arose, and ministered unto her Lord! "My grace is sufficient for you; for My strength is made perfect in weakness."

Still you say, "But I have such afflictions, such troubles, such sorrows, that I am weighted down, and cannot rise into joyful fellowship with Christ." Yes, but Jesus can make every burden light, and cause each yoke to be easy. Your trials can be made to AID your heavenward course instead of hindering it. I know all about those heavy weights, and I perceive that you cannot lift them- but skillful engineers can adapt ropes and pulleys in such a way that heavy weights lift other weights. The Lord Jesus is great at 'gracious' machinery, and He has the are of causing a weight of tribulation to lift from us a load of spiritual deadness, so that we ascend by that which, like a millstone, threatened to sink us down.

What else hinders Him from coming to us? I am sure that, if it were a sheer impossibility, the Lord Jesus could remove it, for things impossible with men are possible with God. But someone objects, "I am so unworthy of Christ. I can understand eminent saints and beloved disciples being greatly loved by Him- but I am a worm, and no man; utterly below such condescension by Him." So you say? Don't you know that the worthiness of Christ covers your unworthiness, and He has become for us wisdom from God-- that is, our righteousness, holiness, and redemption? In Christ, the Father does not think so worthless of you, as you think of yourself-- you are not worthy to be called His child, but He does call you His child, and reckons you to be among His jewels. Listen, and you shall hear Him say, "Since you were precious in My sight, you have been honorable, and I have loved you..." Thus, then, there remains nothing which Jesus cannot overleap if He resolves to come to you, and re-establish your broken fellowship.

To CONCLUDE, our Lord can do all of this INSTANTANEOUSLY. As in the twinkling of an eye, the dead shall be raised incorruptible; so in a moment can our dead affections rise to fullness of delight. He can say to this mountain, "Be removed from here, and be cast into the midst of the sea," and it shall be done.

In the sacred emblems now upon this supper table, Jesus is already among us. FAITH cries, "He has come!" Like John the Baptist, she gazes intently on Him, and cries, "Behold the Lamb of God!" At this table Jesus feeds us with His body and His blood. His physical presence we do not have, but His real spiritual presence we can perceive. He has come here. He looks forth at these windows, I mean this bread and wine; showing Himself through the lattices of this instructive and endearing ordinance. He speaks. He says, "The winter is past, the rain is over and gone." And so it is; we feel it to be so- a heavenly springtime warms our frozen hearts. Like the spouse, we wonderingly cry, "Before ever I was aware, my soul made me like the chariots of Amminadib." Now in happy fellowship we see the Beloved, and hear His voice-- our heart burns; our affections glow; we are happy, restful, brimming over with delight. The King has brought us into his banqueting-house, and His banner over us is love. It is good to be here!

Friends, we must now go our ways. A voice says, "Arise, let us go from here." O Lord of our hearts, go with us! Home will not be home without You. Life will not be life without You. Heaven itself would not be heaven if You were absent. Abide with us. The world grows dark, the twilight of time draws on. Abide with us, for it is toward evening. Our years increase, and we near the night when dews fall cold and chill. A great future is all about us, the splendors of the last age are coming down; and while we wait in solemn, awe-struck expectation, our heart continually cries within herself, "Until the day breaks, and the shadows flee away, turn, my Beloved, and be like a roe or a young hart upon the mountains of division."

"Hasten, Lord! the promised hour;
Come in glory and in power;
While Your foes are unsubdued;
Nature sighs to be renewed.
Time has nearly reached its sum,
All things with Your bride say 'Come;'
Jesus, whom all worlds adore,
Come and reign for evermore!

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