The Eagle and Her Young

"He found him in a desert land, and in the waste howling wilderness--he led him about, he instructed him, he kept him as the apple of his eye. As an eagle stirs up her nest, flutters over her young, spreads abroad her wings, takes them, bears them on her wings--so the Lord alone did lead him, and there was no strange god with him." Deut. 32:10-12.

In the solemn councils of eternity God the Father gave to his Son a Bride. "A certain king," we read, "made a marriage for his Son." This Bride Jesus accepted at his Father's hands--"Yours they were, and you gave them me." "All mine are yours; and yours are mine, and I am glorified in them." But, in accepting this Bride, he accepted her for better for worse, for weal or woe. He took her foreseeing the depth of misery and sin into which she would fall; but determined to have her at any rate and at any price.

Of this Church and Bride, Israel, the literal Israel, was a type and figure. This makes the Old Testament so pregnant with instruction, that in the literal Israel we see the symbolic representation of the spiritual Israel; and in God's outward dealings with her as a nation, we view in type and figure the delineation of his inward dealings with his living family. When this is seen by the eye of faith, a ray of divine light is cast upon the pages of the Old Testament, and it is no longer read as a dry, dead, historical record of times long gone by, but becomes a living book, a sacred memorial of the love, grace, and glory of Jesus Christ, "the same yesterday, today, and forever." It is of this literal Israel that our text speaks, which we may view as an abstract or epitome of God's dealings with his people in the wilderness.

But if I were, in dwelling on this passage, to confine myself to the literal Israel, and view the words merely as descriptive of their journey to Canaan, I would sadly miss the mark; I would then hover only over the surface of the letter, and not dive into the rich experience of the family of God locked up in its bosom.

With God's blessing, therefore, and as far as he may enable. I shall this evening look upon the words before us wholly in a spiritual sense, and view them as applicable to the redeemed and regenerated family.

Two leading features we may observe. I think, in the words before us–

I. The state and position in which God is said to find his Israel, "A desert land, and in the waste howling wilderness."

II. The dealings of God with his Israel, when he has thus found him. "He led him about," etc.

Viewed in this light, the text takes in the whole experience of a Christian; it comprehends the whole of what he is by nature, and of what he is by grace; and thus embraces in one ample scope the entire condition of a child of God, both as he is in the Adam fall, and as he is in the recovery by the Lord Jesus Christ.

I. The state and position in which God is said to find his Israel– "A desert land, and in the waste howling wilderness." There is something singularly discriminating in the whole chapter. How striking are the words, "The Lord's portion is his people; Jacob is the lot of his inheritance!" But who and what was Jacob more than others? To beat down all idea of meritoriousness, to lay the axe effectually to the root of that huge pharisaic tree, the Lord pronounces decisively what was Israel's situation, what was Jacob's state, when he found him by his grace. "He found him in a desert land, and in the waste howling wilderness." What a description of the state of man by nature! Let us examine it, and see, if we can, what is implied by this striking figure, for it is evidently characteristic of our fallen condition.

Man by nature, then, is here compared to "a desert," that is, an eastern desert--a wide tract of barren, uncultivable land, where everything is parched up by the arid rays of the sun; where not only grows neither plant nor flower, but in which neither can be made to grow.

But was man always this withered spot? When God created Adam in his own image, after his own likeness, was the heart of man then an arid desert? The garden of Eden, in which God planted him, was but an image of what man was, as made in the likeness of God. Smiling Eden, in all its glorious beauty, was a fit emblem of, as well as a fit habitation for man as he came fresh from the creating hand of God, all resplendent and radiant with the rays of divine beauty and glory.

Man, then, was not always a "desert." It was sin that ruined, desolated, and laid him waste--and, as we read of Abimelech Judges 9:45, "sowed with salt," the fair Eden of his heart.

Now this is a matter of individual, personal, and I may add, for the most part, of painful experience. For there is in the heart of a child of God a desire to be fruitful; he looks with no pleasure upon his own desert, but would gladly see the waving ears of a rich and bounteous harvest. But alas, alas! he finds that this desert is absolutely uncultivable; that whatever the hand of nature plants soon withers under the sun of temptation, or is blasted by the hot breath of the pestilential wind.

But the Lord finds his Israel also "in the WASTE howling wilderness." Is not this a figure also of the desolate state of man? "A waste." The word seems to imply injury inflicted by an enemy.

Conquerors of old exulted in laying fertile regions waste. Thus the proud king of Babylon is said to have "made the world as a wilderness, and destroyed the cities thereof." A mighty conqueror has laid waste the heart of man, marred in it every feature of the image of God, overspread it with every wild and noxious weed, cut down its vines, filled its wells, pulled down its fences, and left it to be trampled down by the hoof of every wild beast. This conqueror is Satan, and his triumphant army is Sin. By sin he has desolated the human heart; by sin he has laid it waste and bare; by sin he has trampled it down, and thrown it open to every beast of prey.

But Israel is also said to have been found in "a HOWLING wilderness." There is something exceedingly expressive in the term; which, I think, may signify two things–

1. There may be some reference to its treeless, shrubless state, which allows the wind to sweep over it unchecked. The eastern deserts are especially exposed to the full force of the Sirocco, or Simoom, as the hot pestilential wind is termed. No buildings or trees arrest its headlong course, and it therefore sweeps over them with its melancholy howl. Thus is the wilderness of the human heart howled over by the pestilential Simoom--as though it would rejoice over the desolation it makes. As God is said to "walk upon the wings of the wind." and to "quiet the earth by the south wind," so Satan may be said to ride upon the wings of the pestilential Sirocco, and to disturb the earth by its howling blast. When God created man in his own image, he pronounced it "very good." He delighted in the contemplation of his own likeness. As God, then, delights in good, so his infernal adversary delights in evil--and, as God rested in his works of creation, acquiescing therein with pure and holy satisfaction, as the product of infinite wisdom and power; so Satan, that restless, wandering spirit, roams with foul, infernal glee over the ruins he has made, howling, like the melancholy wind, over the wilderness, and withering and blighting all that his pestilential breath touches.

2. But the word "howling" may refer not only to the wilderness itself, but to its tenants, the wild beasts, who fill it with their midnight howling. Travelers speak much of the howling of the jackal, and other wild beasts of prey that inhabit the desert. So is our heart howled over by wild beasts that tenant its waste. What malignant passions dwell in the human breast! Pride, jealousy, envy, wrath, hatred, murder! Let a man be crossed and opposed, found fault with even upon good ground, what enmity and wrath work in his mind even against his best friend! The jackal, the tiger, the hyaena, the wolf, the bear, and the fox have all their dens in the human heart. "When the sun rises, they gather themselves together, and lay themselves down in their dens;" but when it is night, "they creep forth, and roar after their prey" Psalm 104:20-22.

What a description of the heart of man, that it is not only a desert, utterly bare of herb, tree, fruit, or flower, but is a "waste howling wilderness," over which the pestilential wind sweeps with melancholy moan, and where beasts of prey continually prowl. Look into, and examine well your own heart; you will see it all there. Has not the pestilential wind of sin nipped many a rising blade? Do not the midnight beasts of prey ever roam after some filthy carrion?

Here, then, God finds his Israel. Israel would never have found God--it is God that finds him in this wretched spot, this desolate, utterly desolate condition. Nothing here is said about man's free-will, of the natural movements of the heart Godwards, of good inclinations, good resolutions, and how, by and by, through careful cultivation nature gets changed, and by some mysterious chemistry becomes transmuted into grace. Israel does not fence and dig and plant and water until the desert becomes a garden, and this allures the Lord to visit it. The record, the unalterable record, runs. "He found him in a desert land, in the waste howling wilderness."

II. But we pass on to consider the dealings of God with him when he has found him.

1. The first thing said of these dealings of God with his Israel is, that "He LED him about." The words, I think, are applicable to the two special branches of divine leading--those inprovidence, and those in grace. Those in the experience of God's people are often wonderfully connected.

A. Generally speaking, I believe, most who know anything of the dealings of God with their soul, can trace certain marked PROVIDENTIAL CIRCUMSTANCES whereby providence, so to speak, was linked on to grace. One end of the chain may be indeed of iron, and the other of gold--but there is a point where link meets link, and that usually is where the work of grace begins in the soul. Usually some striking providence immediately precedes the commencement of the work of grace. Some remarkable circumstance, some family affliction, some domestic trial, some bodily sickness, or some unusual turn of events led on to that memorable spot and place where the Lord by his Spirit was first pleased to touch the conscience. Some have reason to bless God for an illness; others for a change of habitation, others for a new situation, others for a peculiar circumstance that led them to read a certain book, or hear a certain minister.

Others again can see the wonder-working hand of God in heavy losses, or painful reverses in business, whereby they were brought down in circumstances, stripped perhaps of worldly goods, or even reduced to actual poverty and distress. And all these are no common providences, nor every-day occurrences--but so connected with the work of God upon the soul, though not themselves grace, that they led on to it as much as Ruth's coming into the land of Canaan led on to her marriage with Boaz, or Matthew's sitting at the receipt of custom led on to his being called to be a disciple of the Lord Jesus.

B. But the words are not only applicable to the Lord's striking leadings in providence--they may be well referred in a higher and greater sense to his leadings in GRACE. "He led them about." Though the way to heaven is a way "cast up," in which really and truly there is neither crook nor turn, yet so far as our feelings and experience are connected, it is a very roundabout way. "He led them about." This was true literally. What a circuitous, tangled, backward and forward route was that of the children of Israel in the wilderness! Yet every step was under God's direction--they never moved until the cloudy pillar led the way.

But how does the Lord lead about in grace? By leading his Israel into a path of which they do not see the end. One turn of the road hides the next. I have read that you may make a road with a curve at every quarter of a mile, and yet in a hundred miles the distance will not be so much as a mile more than a perfectly straight line. So in grace. The length of the road swallows up the turnings. But these turnings make the road seem more round about than it really is. All before us is hidden. For instance, when the Lord begins a work of grace, he brings convictions of sin, opens up the spirituality of the law, makes the soul feel guilty, guilty, guilty in every thought, word, and deed. But does a man in that condition know what the Lord is doing? Can he clearly trace out the work of God upon his soul? Is he able to say, 'This, this is the work of God upon my heart'?

For the most part, he knows not what is the matter with him--why he is so distressed--why he can take no rest; why the things of eternity keep rolling in upon his soul; why he stands in continual dread of the wrath to come; why his mind is so exercised with thoughts upon God; why he feels condemnation, bondage, and misery. Nor even when the Lord is pleased to raise him up to some hope, to apply some sweet promise to his soul, to encourage him in various ways under the ministry of the word, can he often take the full comfort of it. He may for a time, but it is soon gone, and he can scarcely believe it to be real. Unbelief suggests that it did not come exactly in the right way, or did not last long enough, or did not go deep enough, or was not just such as he has heard others speak of--and so he is filled with doubts, fears, and anxieties whether it was really from the Lord.

But when God leads him on a step further--opens up the gospel, reveals Christ, drops into his heart some sweet testimony, gives him some blessed discovery of his saving interest in the Lord Jesus, and seals it with a divine witness in his heart, this banishes all his doubts and fears, and fills his soul with joy and peace. Yet even after this, when the sweet feeling is gone, he may sink again very low, and may question the reality of the revelation he has enjoyed. All this is "leading about," for one turn of the road hides the other.

But now for another turn; for the Lord is still "leading him about." He leads him, then, down into a knowledge of his own corruptions, and allows Satan to buffet him with strong temptations. This is indeed "leading him about." For nothing is straight now. He has lost his way altogether, and stands staring and looking about him, looking up at the corners of the streets, and reading name after name--but is unable to tell which is north, south, east, or west. And if he has the map in his hand, it is of little or no service--until he gets so bewildered and confused, that at last he stands stock still, and cries, 'Where am I? I feel quite lost; I cannot tell what way I came, nor where I am going; all I can do is to stand still, and wait for a guide. In this state, he will enquire of this person, and enquire of that person. One says, 'go to the right;' and another, 'go to the left.' One says, 'turn down this street;' and another, 'turn down that;' until, at last, he gets more confused than before. Thus the soul is "led about," until at last it seems as though it never knew anything or felt anything right, and all its religion seems, like poor Job's, tumbled together into one huge mass of confusion. Yet it is the Lord leading him all the time--and though he leads him about in such strange ways, by such circuitous paths, and into such strange spots--yet, it will be found, at the journey's end, that in his mercy he has "led forth the people he has redeemed, and has guided them in his strength unto his holy habitation."

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