Praise Your God, O Zion

"When he came near the place where the road goes down the Mount of Olives, the whole crowd of disciples began joyfully to praise God in loud voices for all the miracles they had seen: "Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord!" "Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!" Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to Jesus, "Teacher, rebuke your disciples!" "I tell you," he replied, "if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out!" Luke 19:37-40

The Savior was "a man of sorrows," but every thoughtful mind has discovered the fact that down deep in his innermost soul he must have carried an inexhaustible treasury of refined and heavenly joy. I suppose that of all the human race there was never a man who had a deeper, purer, or more abiding peace than our Lord Jesus Christ. "He was anointed with the oil of gladness above his fellows." Benevolence is joy. The highest benevolence must from the very nature of things, have afforded the deepest possible delight. To be engaged in the most blessed of all errands, to foresee the marvellous results of his labors in time and in eternity, and even to see around him the fruits of the good which he had done in the healing of the sick and the raising of the dead, must have given to such a sympathetic heart as that which beat within the bosom of the Lord Jesus Christ, much of secret satisfaction and joy. There were a few remarkable seasons when this joy manifested itself. "At that hour Jesus rejoiced in spirit and said, I thank you, O Father, Lord of heaven and earth." Christ had his songs though it was night with him; and though his face was marred, and his countenance had lost the luster of earthly happiness, yet sometimes it was lit up with a matchless splendor of unparalleled satisfaction, as he thought upon the recompense of the reward, and in the midst of the congregation sang his praise unto God.

In this, the Lord Jesus is a blessed picture of his Church on earth.

This is the day of Zion’s trouble: at this hour the Church expects to walk in sympathy with her Lord along a thorny road. She is without the camp- through much tribulation she is forcing her way to the crown. She expects to meet with reproaches. To bear the cross is her office, and to be scorned and counted an alien by her mother’s children is her lot. And yet the Church has a deep well of joy, of which none can drink but her own children. There are stores of wine, and oil, and corn, hidden in the midst of our Jerusalem, upon which the saints of God are evermore sustained and nurtured. And sometimes, as in our Savior’s case, we have our seasons of intense delight, for "there is a river, the streams whereof make glad the city of our God." Exiles though we be, we rejoice in our King, yes in him we exceedingly rejoice: while in his name we set up our banners.

This is a season with us as a Church when we are peculiarly called upon to rejoice in God. The Lord Jesus, in the narrative before us, was going to Jerusalem, as his disciples fondly hoped, to take the throne of David and set up the long-expected kingdom. Well might they shout for joy, for the Lord was in their midst, in their midst in state, riding amidst the acclamations of a multitude who had been glad partakers of his goodness. Jesus Christ is in our midst today: the kingdom is securely his. We see the crown glittering upon his brow; he has been riding through our streets, healing our blind, raising our dead, and speaking words of comfort to our mourners. We, too, attend him in state today, and the acclamations of little children are not lacking, for from the Sabbath school there have come songs of converted youngsters, who sing gladly, as did the children of Jerusalem in days of yore, "Hosanna! Blessed is he that comes in the name of the Lord!"

I want, dear friends, this morning, to stir up in all of us the spirit of holy joy, because our King is in our midst; that we may welcome him and rejoice in him, and that while he is working his mighty deeds of salvation throughout this congregation so graciously, he may not lack such music as our feeble lips can afford him. I shall therefore invite your attention to these four verses, by way of example, that we may take a pattern for our praise from this inspired description. We shall observe four things: first, delightful praise; secondly, appropriate song; thirdly, intrusive objections; fourthly, an unanswerable argument.

I. First, we shall observe here DELIGHTFUL PRAISE. In the thirty-seventh verse every word is significant, and deserves the careful notice of all who would learn aright the lesson of how to magnify the Savior. To begin with, the praise rendered to Christ was SPEEDY praise. The happy choristers did not wait until he had entered the city, but "when he was come near, even now, at the descent of the mount of Olives, they began to rejoice." It is well to have a quick eye to perceive occasions for gratitude. Blind unbelief and blear-eyed thanklessness allow the favors of God to be forgotten in unthankfulness, and, without praises, they die. They walk in the noonday of mercy and see no light to sing by. But a believing, cheerful, grateful spirit, detects at once the rising of the Sun of mercy, and begins to sing, even at the break of day. Christian, if you would sing of the mercy you have already, you would soon have more. If twilight made you glad, you should soon have the bliss of noon. I am certain that the Church in these days has lost much, by not being thankful for little.

We have had many prayer-meetings, but few, very few, praise-meetings; as if the Church could cry loud enough when her own ends were to be answered, but was dumb as to music for her Lord. Her King acts to her very much as he did with the man with the talent of money. That man did not put out the talent to interest, and therefore it was taken away. We have not thanked him for little mercies, and therefore even these have been removed, and Churches have become barren and deserted by the Spirit of God. Let us lift up the voice of praise to our Master, because he has blessed us these twelve years. We have had a continual stream of revival. The cries of sinners have sounded in our ears- every day we have seen souls converted- I was about to say almost every hour of the week, and that for the space of these twelve years, and of late, we have had a double portion. Benjamin’s portion has been set near our place at the table; we have been made to feast on royal dainties, and have been filled with bread even to the fill. Shall we not then praise God? Ah! let us not require twice telling of it, but let our souls begin to praise him, even now, that he comes near unto Jerusalem.

It strikes us at once, also, that this was UNANIMOUS praise. Observe, not only the multitude, but the whole multitude of the disciples rejoiced, and praised him; not one silent tongue among the disciples — not one who withheld his song. And yet, I suppose, those disciples had their trials as we have ours. There might have been a sick wife at home, or a child withering with disease. They were doubtless poor, we know they were, indeed; and poverty is never without its pinches. They were men of like passions with ourselves; they had to struggle with inbred sin, and with temptation from without, and yet there seems to have been no one who on those grounds excluded himself from the choir of singers on that happy day.

Oh, my soul, whatever you have about you which might bow you down, be glad when you remember that Jesus Christ is glorified in the midst of his Church. Wherefore, my brother, is that harp of your hanging on the willows? Have you nothing to sing about? Has he done nothing for you? Why, if you have no personal reason for blessing God, then lend us your heart and voice to help us, for we have more praise-work on hand than we can get through alone- we have more to praise him for than we are able to discharge without extra aid. Our work of praise is too great for us, come and help us; sing on our behalf, if you can not on your own; and then, perhaps, you will catch the flame, and find something after all for which you, too, must bless him.

I know there are some of you who do not feel as if you could praise God this morning. Let us ask the Master to put your harp in tune. Oh be not silent! Be not silent! Do praise him! If you cannot bless him for temporals, do bless him for spirituals; and if you have not of late experimentally enjoyed many of these, then praise him for what he is. For that dear face, covered with the bloody sweat; for those pierced hands, for that opened side, will you not praise him? Why, surely, if he had not died for me, yet I must love him, to think of his goodness in dying for others. His kindness, the generosity of his noble heart in dying for his enemies might well provoke the most unbelieving to a song. I am, therefore, not content unless all of you will contribute you note. I would have every bird throw in its note, though some cannot imitate the lark or nightingale. Yes, I would have every tree of the forest clap its hands, and even the hyssop on the wall wave in adoration. Come, beloved, cheer up. Let dull care and dark fear be gone. Up with harps and down with doubts. It must be praise from "the whole multitude." The praise must be unanimous- not one chord out of order to spoil the tune.

Next, it was MULTITUDINOUS. "The whole multitude." There is something most inspiriting and exhilarating in the noise of a multitude singing God’s praises. Sometimes, when we have been in good tune, and have sung "Praise God from whom all blessings flow," our music has rolled upward like thunder to yon dome and has reverberated peal on peal, and these have been the happiest moments some of us have ever known, when every tonguewas praise, and every heart was joy. Oh, let us renew those happy times. Let us anticipate the season when the dwellers in the East and in the West, in the North and in the South, of every age and of every climate, shall assemble on the celestial hill-tops and swell the everlasting song, extolling Jesus Lord of all! Jesus loves the praise of many; he loves to hear the voices of all the blood-washed. "Ten thousand thousand are their tongues," But all their joys are one." We are not so many as that, but we are counted by thousands, and let us praise his name- the whole multitude of us.

Still it is worthy of observation that, while the praise was multitudinous, it was quite SELECT. It was the whole multitude "of the disciples." The Pharisees did not praise him- they were murmuring. All true praise must come from true hearts. If you do not learn of Christ, you can not render to him acceptable song. These disciples, of course, were of different sorts. Some of them had but just enlisted in the army- just learned to sit at his feet. Some had worked miracles in his name, and, having been called to the apostolic office, had preached the word to others– but they were all disciples. I trust that in this congregation there is a vast majority of disciples. Well, then, all of you, you who have lately come into his school, and you who have long been in it, you who have become fathers in Israel, and are teaching others, the whole multitude of disciples, I hope, will praise God.

I could wish– God grant the wish– I could wish that those who are not disciples might soon become so. "Take my yoke upon you," says he, "and learnof me, for I am meek and lowly in heart." A disciple is a learner. You may not know much, but you need not know anything in coming to Christ. Christ begins with ignorance, and bestows wisdom. If you do but know that you know nothing, you know enough to become a disciple of Christ Jesus. There are no prerequisites necessary in order to enter into Christ’s college. He takes the fools, and makes them know the wonders

of his dying love! Oh that you may become a disciple! "Write my name down, sir," you say to the writer with the inkhorn by his side, and be henceforth a humble follower of the Lamb. Now, though I would not have those who are not disciples close their mouths when ever others sing, yet I do think there are some hymns in which they would behave more honestly if they did not join, for there are some expressions which hardly ought to come from unconverted lips; better far would it be if they would pray, "Lord, open my lips, and my mouth shall show forth your praise." You may have a very sweet voice, my friend, and may sing with admirable taste and in exquisite harmony any of the parts, but God does not accept the praise where the heart is absent. The best tune in the book is one called Hearts. The whole multitude of the disciples whom Jesus loves are the properpersons to extol the Redeemer’s name. May you, dear hearer, be among that company!

Then, in the next place, you will observe that the praise they rendered was JOYFUL praise. "The whole multitude of the disciples began to rejoice." I hope the doctrine that Christians ought to be gloomy will soon be driven out of the universe. There are no people in the world who have such a right to be happy, nor have such cause to be joyful as the saints of the living God. All Christian duties should be done joyfully; but especially the work of praising the Lord. I have been in congregations where the tune was dolorous to the very last degree; where the pace was so dreadfully slow that one wondered whether they would ever be able to sing through the 119th Psalm; whether, to use Watts’s expression, eternity would not be too short for them to get through it. And altogether, the spirit of the people has seemed to be so damp, so heavy, so dead, that we might have supposed that they were met to prepare their minds for a hanging rather than for blessing the ever-gracious God. Why, brethren, true praise sets the heart ringing its bells, and hanging out its streamers. Never hang your flag at half-mast when you praise God. No, run up every color, let every banner wave in the breeze, and let all the powers and passions of your spirit exult and rejoice in God your Savior. They rejoiced. We are really most horribly afraid of being too happy. Some Christians think cheerfulness a very dangerous folly, if not a ruinous vice.

That joyous Hundredth Psalm has been altered in all the English versions. "All people that on earth do dwell, Sing to the Lord with cheerful voice, Him serve with fear, his praise forth tell, Come before him and rejoice." "Him serve with fear," says the English version; but the Scotch version has, less thistle and far more rose in it. Listen to it, and catch its holy happiness– "Him serve with mirth, his praise forth tell; Come you before him and rejoice."

How do God’s creatures serve him in nature? The birds do not sit on a Sunday with folded wings, dolefully silent on the boughs of the trees, but they sing as sweetly as may be, even though the rain-drops fall. As for the new-born lambs in the field– they skip to his praise, though the season is damp and cold. Heaven and earth are lit up with gladness, and why not the hearts and houses of the saints? "Him serve with mirth." Well says the Psalmist– "before him exceedingly rejoice." It was joyful praise.

The next point we must mention is, that it was DEMONSTRATIVE praise. They praised him with their voices, and with a loud voice. 'Propriety' very greatly objects to the praise, which is rendered by Primitive Methodists at times– their shouts and hallelujahs are thought by some delicate minds to be very shocking. I would not, however, join in the censure, lest I should be numbered among the Pharisees who said, "Master, rebuke your disciples." I wish more people were as earnest and even as vehement as the Methodists used to be. In our Lord’s day we see that the people expressed the joy which they felt. I am not sure that they expressed it in the most melodic manner, but at any rate they expressed it in a hearty, lusty shout. They altogether praised with a loud voice. It is said of Mr. Rowland Hill that, on one occasion, some one sat on the pulpit stairs, who sang in his ears with such a sharp shrill voice, that he could endure it no longer, but said to the good woman, "I wish you would be quiet;" when she answered, "It comes from my heart." "Oh," said he, "then forgive me — sing away: sing as loudly as you will."

And truly, dear friends, though one might wish there were more melody in it, yet if your music comes from the heart, we cannot object to the loudness, or we might be found objecting to that which the Savior could not and would not blame. Must we not be loud? Do you wonder that we sing out? Have not his mercies a loud tongue? Do not his kindnesses deserve to be proclaimed aloud? Were not the cries upon the cross so loud that the very rocks were rent thereby, and shall our music be a whisper? No, as Watts declares, we would- "Loud as his thunders shout his praise, And sound it lofty as his throne."

If not with loud voices actually in sound, yet we would make the praise of God loud by our actions, which speak louder than any words. We would extol him by great deeds of kindness, and love, and self-denial, and zeal, that so our actions may assist our words. "The whole multitude praised him with a loud voice." et me ask every Christian here to do something in the praise of God, to speak in some way for his Master. I would say, speak today; if you cannot with your voice, speak by act and deed; but do join in the hearty shout of all the saints of God while you praise and bless the name of our ever gracious Lord.

The praise rendered, however, though very demonstrative, was very REASONABLE. The reason is given- "for all the mighty works that they had seen." My dear friends, we have seen many mighty works which Christ has done. I do not know what these disciples had happened to see. Certain it is, that after Christ entered into Jerusalem, he was lavish of his miracles. The blind were healed, the deaf had their ears opened, many of those possessed with devils were delivered, and incurable diseases gave way at his word. I think we have the like reason in a spiritual sense. What has God wrought?

It has been marvellous– as our elders would tell you, if they could recount what God has done– the many who have come forward during the last fortnight to tell what God has done for their souls. The Holy Spirit has met with some whom hitherto no ministry had reached. Some have been convinced of sin who were wrapped up in self-righteous rags. Others have been comforted whose desponding hearts drew near unto despair. I am sure those brethren who sat to see enquirers must have been astonished when they found some hundreds coming to talk about the things that make for their peace. It was blessed work, I doubt not, for them. They, therefore, would lead the strain.

But you have all in your measure seen something of it– During the meetings we have held, we have enjoyed an overpowering sense of the Divine presence. Without excitement there has been a holy bowedness of spirit, and yet a blessed lifting up of hope, and joy, and holy fervor. The Master has cast sweet smiles upon his Church, he has come near to his beloved, he has given her the tokens of his affection, and made her to rejoice with joy unspeakable. Any joy, which we have towards Christ, then, will be reasonable enough, for we have seen his mighty works.

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