Praise Your God, O Zion 2
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With another remark, I shall close this first head– the reason for their joy was a PERSONAL one. There is no praise to God so sweet as that which flows from the man who has tasted that the Lord is gracious. Some of you have been converted during the last two or three months. Oh! you must bless him, you shall– you must take the front rank now, and bless his name for the mighty work which you have seen in yourself. The things which once were dear to you, you now abhor– and those things which seemed dry and empty, are now sweet and full of savor. God has turned your darkness into light. He has brought you up out of the horrible pit, and out of the miry clay, and has set your feet upon a rock; shall not your established goings yield him a grateful song? You shall bless him. Others here present have had their own children saved. God has looked on one family and another, and taken one, and two, and three. He has been pleased to lay his hand upon the elders among us, and bless their families. Oh sing unto his name! Sing praises for the mighty works, which we have seen.
This will be common-place talk enough to those of you who have not seen it– but those who have, will feel the tears starting to their eyes as they think of son and daughter, of whom they can say, "Behold, he prays." Saints of God, I wish I could snatch a firebrand from the altar of praise that burns before the great throne of God– I wish I could fire your hearts with it, but it is the Master’s work to do this. Oh! may he do it now. May every one of you feel as if you could cast your crown at his feet– as if you could sing like the cherubim and the seraphim, nor yield even the first place of gratitude to the brightest spirit before the eternal throne. This morning may it be truly said, "The whole multitude of the disciples rejoiced with a loud voice for all the mighty things which they had seen."
"O come, loud anthems let us sing, Loud thanks to our Almighty King! For we our voices high should raise, When our salvation’s rock we praise. Into his presence let us haste, To thank him for his favors past; To him address, in joyful songs, The praise that to his name belongs."
II. I shall now lead you on to the second point– their praise found vent for itself in AN APPROPRIATE SONG. "Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord!" "Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!" It was an appropriate song, if you will remember that it had Christ for its subject. "My heart is inditing of a good matter– I speak of the things which I have made touching the king." No song is so sweet from believing lips as that which tells of him who loved us and who gave himself for us. This particular song sings of Christ in his character of King– a right royal song then– a melody fit for a coronation day. Crown him! crown him Lord of all! That was the refrain.
"Blessed be the King." It sang of that King as commissioned by the Most High "who comes in the name of the Lord." To think of Christ as bearing divine authority, as coming down to men in God our Father’s name, speaking what he has heard in heaven, fulfilling no self-espoused errand, but a mission upon which the divine Father sent him according to his purpose and decree; all this is matter for music! Oh bless the Lord, you saints, as you remember that your Savior is the Lord’s anointed– he has set him on his throne. He, Jehovah, who was pleased to bruise him, has said, "Yet have I set my King upon my holy hill of Zion."
See the Godhead of your Savior. He whom you adore, the Son of Mary, is the Son of God. He who rode upon a colt the foal of an donkey, did also ride upon a cherub and did fly– yes, he rode upon the wings of the wind. They spread their garments in the way, and broke down branches. It was a humble triumph, but long before this the angels had strewn his path with adoring songs. Before him went the lightnings, coals of fire were in his track, and up from his throne went forth hailstones and coals of fire. Blessed be the King! Oh praise him this day! Praise the King, divine, and commissioned of his Father.
The burden of their song was, however, of Christ present in their midst. I do not think they would have rejoiced so loudly and sweetly if he had not been there. That was the source and center of their mirth– the King riding upon a colt the foal of an donkey– the King triumphant. They could not but be glad when he revealed himself. Beloved, our King is here! We sang at the beginning of this visitation, "Arise, O King of grace, arise, and enter to your rest!" You remember our singing the verse- "O you that are the Mighty One, Your sword gird on your thigh." And King Jesus has done so in state– he has ridden prosperously, and out of the ivory palaces his heart has been made glad. And the King’s daughter, all-glorious within, standing at his right hand, cannot but be glad too. Loud to his praise wake every string of your heart, and let your souls make the Lord Jesus the heart of their song!
This was an appropriate song, in the next place, because it had God for its object. They extolled God, God in Christ, when they thus lifted up their voices. They said, "Peace in heaven, and glory in the highest." When we extol Christ, we desire to bless the infinite majesty that gave Christ to us. Thanks be unto the Father for his unspeakable gift. O eternal God, we your creatures in this little world do sincerely bless you for your great purpose and decree, by which you did choose us to be illustrious exhibitions of your majesty and love! We bless you that you did give us grace in Christ your Son before the starry sky was spread abroad! We praise you, O God, and magnify your name as we enquire, "What is man, that you are mindful of him, or the son of man, that you visit him?" How could you deign to stoop from all the glory of your infinity, to be made man, to suffer, to bleed, to die for us? "Give unto the Lord, O you mighty, give unto the Lord glory and strength. Give unto the Lord the glory that is due unto his name." Oh that I could give place to some inspired bard, some seer of old, who standing before you with mouth streaming with holy eloquence, should extol him that lives but once was slain, and bless the God who sent him here below that he might redeem unto himself a people who should show forth his praise!
I think this song to have been very appropriate for another reason, namely, because it had the universe for its scope. It was not praise within walls as ours this morning: the multitude sung in the open air with no walls but the horizon, with no roof but the unpillared arch of heaven. Their song, though it was from heaven, did not stay there but enclosed the world within its range. It was, "Peace in heaven and glory in the highest." It is very singularly like that song of the angels, that Christmas carol of the spirits from on high when Christ was born. But it differs, for the angels’ song was, "Peace on earth," and this at the gates of Jerusalem was, "Peace in heaven." It is the nature of song to spread itself. From heaven the sacred joy began when angels sang, and then the fire blazed down to earth in the words, "Peace on earth," but now the song began on earth, and so it blazed up to heaven with the words, "Peace in heaven and glory in the highest."
Is not it a wonderful thing that a company of poor beings, like us here below, can really affect the highest heavens? Every throb of gratitude, which heaves our hearts, glows through heaven. God can receive no actual increase of glory from his creature, for he has infinite glory and majesty, but yet the creature manifests that glory. A grateful man here below, when his heart is all on fire with sacred love, warms heaven itself. The multitude sung of peace in heaven, as though the angels were established in their peaceful seats by the Savior, as though the war which God had waged with sin was over now, because the conquering King was come. Oh let us seek after music which shall be fitted for other spheres! I would begin the music here, and so my soul should rise. Oh for some heavenly notes to bear my passions to the skies! It was appropriate to the occasion, because the universe was its sphere.
And it seems also to have been most appropriate, because it had gratitude for its spirit. They cried aloud, "Blessed" - "Blessed be the King." We cannot bless God, and yet we do bless him, in the sense in which he blesses us. Our goodness cannot extend to him, but we reflect the blessedness, which streams from him as light from the sun. Blessed be Jesus! My brethren, have you never wished to make him happier? Have you not wished that you could extol him? Let him be exalted! Let him sit on high! I have almost wished even selfishly that he were not so glorious as he is, that we might help to lift him higher. Oh! if the crushing of my body, soul, and spirit would make him one atom more glorious, I would not only consent to the sacrifice, but bless his name that he counted me worthy so to do.
All that we can do brings nothing unto him. Yet, brethren, I would that he had his own. Oh that he rode over our great land in triumph! Would that King Jesus were as well known here now as he was once in puritanic times! Would that Scotland were as loyal to him as in covenanting periods! Would that Jesus had his majesty visible in the eyes of all men! We pray for this, we seek for this; and among the chief joys our chief joy is to know that God has highly exalted him, and given him a name which is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow. We have thus said something about the appropriateness of the song. May you, each of you, light upon such hymns as will serve to set forth your own case and show forth the mercy of God in saving you, and do not be slack in praising him in such notes as may be most suitable to your own condition.
III. Thirdly, and very briefly– for I am not going to give much time to these men- we have INTRUSIVE OBJECTIONS. "Master, rebuke your disciples." We know that voice– the old grunt of the Pharisee. What could he do otherwise? Such is natural man, and such must his communications be. While a man can dare to boast, "God, I thank you that I am not as other men are," he is not likely to join in praises such as other men lift up to heaven.
But why did these Pharisees object? I suppose it was first of all because they thought there would be no praise for them. If the multitude had been saying, "Oh these blessed Pharisees! these excellent Pharisees! What broad phylacteries! What admirable hems to their garments! How diligently and scrupulously they tithe their mint and their anise and their cummin! What a wonder that God should permit us poor vile creatures to look upon these super-excellent incarnations of virtue!" I will be bound to say there would not have been a man among them who would have said, "Master, rebuke your disciples." A proud heart never praises God, for it hoards up praise for itself.
In the next place, they were jealous of the people. They did not feel so happy themselves, and they could not bear that other people should be glad. They were like the elder brother who said "Yet you never gave me a calf, that I might make merry with my friends." Was that a reason why nobody else should be merry? A very ill reason truly! Oh, if we cannot rejoice ourselves, let us stand out of the way of other people. If we have no music in our own hearts, let us not wish to stop those who have.
But I think the main point was that they were envious of Jesus– they did not like to have Christ crowned with majesty. Certainly this is the drift of the human heart. It does not wish to see Jesus Christ extolled. Preach up morality or dry doctrine, or ceremonies, and many will be glad to hear your notes. But preach Jesus Christ up, and some will say, "Master, rebuke your disciples!" It was not ill advice of an old preacher to a young beginner, when he said, "Preach nothing down but sin, and preach nothing up but Christ." Brethren, let us praise nothing up but Christ. Have nothing to say about your Church, say nothing about your denomination, hold your tongue about your minister, but PRAISE CHRIST, and I know the Pharisees will not like it. But that is an excellent reason to give them more of it, for that which Satan does not admire, he ought to have more of. The preaching of Christ, is the whip that flogs the devil! The preaching of Christ, is the thunderbolt, the sound of which makes all hell shake. Let us never be silent then; we shall put to confusion all our foes, if we do but extol Christ Jesus the Lord.
"Master, rebuke your disciples!" Well, there is not much of this for Jesus Christ to rebuke in the Christian Church in the present day. There used to be– there used to be a little of what the world calls fanaticism.
A consecrated cobbler once set forth to preach the gospel in Hindoostan. There were men who would go preaching the gospel among the heathen, counting not their lives dear unto them. The day was when the Church was so foolish as to fling away precious lives for Christ’s glory. Ah! she is more prudent now-a-days. Alas! alas! for your prudence. She is so calm and so quiet– no Methodist’s zeal now– even that denomination which did seem alive has become most proper and most cold. And we are so charitable too. We let the most abominable doctrines be preached, and we put our finger on our lip, and say, "There’s so many good people who think so." Nothing is to be rebuked now-a-days. Brethren, our souls should be sick of this! Oh, for the old fire again! The Church will never prosper until it comes once more. Oh, for the old fanaticism, for that indeed was the Spirit of God making men’s spirits in serious. Oh, for the old doing and daring that risked everything and cared for nothing, except to glorify him who shed his blood upon the cross! May we live to see such bright and holy days again! The world may murmur, but Christ will not rebuke.
IV. We come now to the last point, which is this- AN UNANSWERABLE ARGUMENT.
He said, "If these should hold their peace, the very stones would cry out." Brethren, I think that is very much our case– if we were not to praise God, the very stones might cry out against us. We must praise the Lord. Woe is unto us if we do not! It is impossible for us to hold our tongues. Saved from hell and be silent! Secure of heaven and be ungrateful! Bought with precious blood, and hold our tongues! Filled with the Spirit and not speak! Restrain from fear of feeble man, the Spirit’s course within our souls! God forbid. In the name of the Most High, let such a thought be given to the winds. What, our children saved; the offspring of our loins brought to Christ! What, see them springing up like willows by the water courses, and no awakening of song, no gladness, no delight! Oh, then we would be worse than brutes, and our hearts would have been steeled and become as adamant.
We must praise God! What, the King in our midst, King Jesus smiling into our souls, feasting us at his table, making his word precious to us, and not praise him. Why if Satan could know the delight of Christ’s company he might begin to love; but we, we were worse than devils if we did not praise the name of Jesus! What! the King’s arm made bare, his enemies subdued, his triumphant chariot rolling through our streets, and no song! Oh Zion, if we forget to sing, let our right hand forget her cunning if we count not the King’s triumph above our chief joy. What, the King coming! His advent drawing near, the signs of blessing in the sky and air around, and yet no song! Oh, we must bless him! Hosanna! Blessed is he that comes in the name of the Lord!
But could the stones ever cry out? Yes, that they could, and if they were to speak they would have much to talk of even as we have this day. If the stones were to speak they could tell of their Maker. And shall not we tell of him who made us anew, and out of stones raised up children unto Abraham? They could speak of ages long since gone– the old rocks could tell of chaos and order, and the handiwork of God in various stages of creation’s drama. And cannot we talk of God’s decrees, of God’s great work in ancient times, and all that he did for his Church? If the stones were to speak they could tell of their breaker, how he took them from the
quarry, and made them fit for the temple; and cannot we tell of our Creator and Maker, who broke our hearts with the hammer of his word that he might build us into his temple? If the stones were to speak, they would tell of their builder, who polished them and fashioned them after the similitude of a palace. And shall not we talk of our Architect and Builder, who has put us in our place in the temple of the living God? Oh, if the stones could speak, they might have a long, long story to tell by way of memorial, for many a time has a great stone been rolled as a memorial unto God; and we can tell of Ebenezers, 'stones of help', 'stones of remembrance'. The broken stones of the law cry out against us, but Christ himself, who has rolled away the stone from the door of the sepulcher, speaks for us. Stones might well cry out, but we will not let them– we will hush their noise with ours, we will break forth into sacred song, and bless the majesty of the Most High all our days. Let this day and tomorrow be especially consecrated to holy joys, and may the Lord in infinite mercy fill your souls right full of it, both in practical deeds of kindness and benevolence and works of praise! Blessed be his name who lives for ever and ever!
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