The Fruit of the Lips 2
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II. But we pass on to consider the promise. "Peace, peace to him who is far off, and to him who is near."
FAR OFF! What does that mean? It means that the soul passing through that experience is separated, in its feelings, and at an infinite distance from God. There is an expression in Psalm 61 which throws a light upon the words "far off." "From the end of the earth will I cry unto you, when my heart is overwhelmed--lead me to the rock that is higher than I." David there speaks of himself as being at the end of the earth, and from that distant spot crying unto the Lord--he places as it were the whole habitable part of the globe between himself and God. He speaks of himself as at the very furthest bound of creation--not resting in God's bosom, nor lying at his footstool, nor taking hold of his strength, nor brought experimentally near by the application of the blood of sprinkling. The words "far off" and the corresponding expression "from the end of the earth" point out an experience of distance.
But what has brought the soul into this state of felt distance from God? A sense of sin laid on the conscience; for it is sin which makes the separation, according to those words--"Your iniquities have separated between you and your God." Sin has actually separated; felt sin 'experimentally separates' the soul from God. It drives it, so to speak, to the end of the earth, to the utmost limit of creature existence.
Now this inward sense of being far off, is one of the most painful feelings that a quickened soul can experience. The ungodly, who are really afar off, know nothing experimentally of distance from God, for they have never been brought spiritually near. They have felt no "cords of love, no bands of a man" drawing them with sweet attraction to the throne of the Most High; they have never sighed after the sweet manifestations of God's mercy and love; but they live gladly, and wallow wilfully, in those things which separate the soul from its Maker.
But those who are 'far off in their feelings', are such as have seen something of the beauty of the Lord, and felt the evil of sin, who spiritually know Jehovah's purity and the creature's impurity, and have experienced the inward curse, bondage, and condemnation of a holy law. A spiritual discovery of his purity and holiness, making manifest their own vileness, has thrust them away from him--they not daring to draw near, nor able to approach; not feeling any spiritual access--but sighing and mourning over their evil hearts in the wilderness, in desolate places--and unable to move a single step forward because the Lord does not draw them by his smile.
A man must know something experimentally of this before he is brought near to God. How can he know the feeling of nearness if he has not known a feeling of distance? How can we know what it is to be brought from the end of the earth, by the manifestation of God's mercy and love--unless we have been driven there--in our feelings--by some manifestation of the wrath of God against sin?
But to see the blessed Lord and not be able to draw near to him; to view his atoning blood at an infinite distance from us, his glorious righteousness well near out of sight, and his lovely Person out of the reach of our spiritual view, so as not to enjoy any access to these glorious realities--to know this experimentally--is to be far off from God. And I believe that God's people know very much of this feeling.
There is not much nearness in our day--not much dandling on the knees, not much smiling upon the soul, not many love visits, nor love tokens from God communicated. There is, indeed, abundant talking about them; and there are abundance of people who profess to have them, but I fear they are, for the most part, cheats and counterfeits. The real people of God, the true-hearted family are, for the most part, afar off upon the sea, for it is a dark and cloudy day in which we live.
But the Lord has spoken of another character, and described him as one that is "NEAR;" that is, one brought 'experimentally near', who has felt the blood of sprinkling reconciling him to God, who has had the veil taken from his heart, who has had power communicated to approach unto God, and had a measure of spiritual access unto and blessed communion with him. But what is remarkable is, that the same promise is given to each--"Peace, peace to him who is far off, and to him who is near." These two characters seem to include all the quickened family of God--for all who are made alive unto God are in one of these two states, 'experimentally far off' or 'experimentally near', enjoying God's presence or mourning his absence, fasting or feasting, lamenting or rejoicing, crying or blessing, dandled in the bosom or weaned from the breast. We find no intermediate state spoken of--no middle class--they are either far off, or they are near in feeling. God in this text seeming to recognize no other states but these two.
Let me not, however, be misunderstood. We are often in neither one nor the other, but not as a matter of Christian experience. We have an experience of the flesh as well as of the spirit, and this experience of the flesh is coldness, deadness, worldliness, unbelief, and other corruptions. But the Lord does not recognize this as Christian experience, though too often the experience of a Christian. We say, therefore, that so far as we are under the teachings and leading of the Spirit, we shall be experimentally far off and mourning distance--or experimentally near and enjoying access. Therefore, spiritually viewed, "far off " or "near" includes all.
But there are an abundance of people everywhere who are neither one nor the other. They are never near by the spiritual manifestations of God's presence, they are never afar off in soul-trouble and soul- sadness. They occupy what they consider to be a middle spot, which is in fact no spot at all--for they know nothing of frowns or of smiles, of banishment or of return; they know nothing of God's anger nor of God's love; guilt nor pardon; misery nor mercy; helplessness nor help; weakness nor strength; but stand upon an empty profession, having the mere "shell and outside of truth" without being led by the Holy Spirit into the secrets of the sanctuary.
To God's people then, summed up in these two classes, those that are far off, those that are near, there is a promise given; and that promise is redoubled to point out its certainty--"Peace, peace, to him who is far off, and to him who is near." Bunyan well represents this in his Pilgrim's Progress, where he speaks of Christian--after being entertained in the House Beautiful, going to sleep in the chamber called Peace. What blessed sensations are couched in that word Peace! It was the legacy that Jesus left to his church--"Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you--not as the world gives, do I give unto you." The apostle says of it that it "passes all understanding."
Now many even of the Lord's people seem as if they wanted and were expecting 'raptures'. There is, I believe, a vast deal of 'enthusiasm' in the natural mind of man, as is evident from what I may call its religious history in all ages; and this leads many who, in other points, seem rightly taught; to look for sensational visions, ecstasies and raptures, things which nature can imitate; or Satan, as an "angel of light" counterfeit. False churches have had abundance of these. There are some most remarkable accounts in the legends of the Roman Catholic Church of the ecstasies and raptures of their so-called "saints". Satan, as an "angel of light" can counterfeit these things to delude souls.
But, I believe, Satan cannot bring the peace of God into the conscience. He may kindle a sort of infernal ecstasy; he may dazzle the mind with his juggleries and witcheries, and lift a man up in his own conceit into the "third heavens;" he may work upon the natural spirits and intoxicate the mind with the light and airy gas which he breathes into it. But he cannot speak gospel peace to the conscience; he cannot bring a holy calm into the soul. He could lash the waters of Gennesaret into a storm; but there was only One who could say to them--"Peace, be still!" Satan may raise a storm in our carnal mind, but he cannot alleviate it; he cannot pour oil upon the waves, he cannot bring peace to the troubled breast and enable it to rest upon God.
Of all spiritual blessings, none seem preferable to peace; and I believe that is what a child of God covets more than anything. For O how much is implied in the word peace! Is not man by nature an enemy to God? Then to be saved he must be reconciled, and that implies peace. Is not his heart often troubled, as the Lord said--"Let not your heart be troubled!" Then he needs peace. Is not his mind often agitated and tossed up and down by conflicting emotions? Then he needs peace to calm it. And when he has to lie upon his dying bed, O if he can but lie there in peace--peace with God through Jesus Christ--and a holy calm comes over his soul, flowing out of manifested mercy and felt reconciliation, it will beat all the raptures in the world. How often we hear of a triumphant death-bed. May God, in his mercy, give me a peaceful one! It is better to close one's eyes with the sweet enjoyment of the peace of God, which passes all understanding, shed abroad in the heart by the Holy Spirit, than to have all the raptures and ecstasies which may spring out of an excited nature.
But to be blessed with peace, through the blood of sprinkling, before the soul glides out of its earthly tabernacle to enter into the haven of peace above--this indeed will make a death-bed happy, this will extract every thorn from the dying pillow, and enable the departing believer to say, with holy Simeon--"Lord, now let your servant depart in peace, for my eyes have seen your salvation." (The Editor of The Gospel Standard in 1960 writes– Blessed Philpot! almost his last utterance was, "Better to die than to live. Mighty to save! I die in the faith I have preached and felt. The blood of Jesus Christ cleanses from all sin. Beautiful! Praise the Lord, O my soul!")
The word is redoubled, like Pharaoh's dream (Gen.41:32), to show the certainty of it--"Peace, peace;" as though the Lord would not content himself with saying it but once. He was so determined that it should come that he says--"Peace, peace."
There is also another thing connected perhaps with the reduplication of the expression, that it becomes more especially promised to each of the characters mentioned in the text. Peace to him who is far off, and peace to him who is near. Perhaps your soul is far off upon the sea, tossed up and down with doubts and fears, and exercised with sharp temptations and afflictions. There is peace promised to you, though in your feelings you are far off from God. But another here, perhaps, is in a different state; his soul is indulged with some nearness of access to the throne of mercy. There is peace for you; for you need peace as much as your brother who is far off. If his troubled soul requires it to bring him near, you need it to keep you near. Both need it, and both shall have it, for the promise is given to such.
"I will heal him." This closes the promise; this is the finishing stroke to God's manifested mercy. "I will heal him." As though the Lord had said--"He is a poor leprous wretch; he has an incurable disease upon him; he must die of his wounds, and bleed to death unless I step in. But he shall not die of his wounds, he shall not bleed to death--I will heal him. Whatever be his malady, whatever be the wounds of his conscience, I will cure him; he shall not perish; though he is beyond all human cure--he is not out of the reach of my healing hand." These are sweet and precious promises, are they not? But wheremust we be, and whatmust we be, in order to value them? What must we know and feel to have a part in them, and to experience them? Must we not be spiritually in the same spots to which they are addressed?
If, for instance, we can always confess our sins; if we can pray when we please, and bless God when we please, what manifested interest have we in the promise--"I create the fruit of the lips?" If we never are far off in feeling or never near in feeling; if we are never tossed upon the wave or never borne into the harbour of safety; what can we experience, what can we need to know of the promise--"Peace, peace?" If we are never sick and diseased, full of wounds and bruises and putrefying sores, a mass of filth and corruption before God, what manifested interest can we have, or need to have, in the promise--"I will heal him?"
All God's promises are adapted to certain stages and states; certain characters and people; so that unless we are experimentally in those states or those stages, and are those characters; the promises, however great and precious, are absolutely nothing to us. When the Lord, therefore, puts us into these states, it is that he may make the promises precious; and when he ratifies and fulfils any promise in the soul, he endears that promise by that very state in which the soul was before the promise came. Thus until we come into such desperate circumstances that none but the God of all grace can, by stretching out his hand, save and bless us, until we are utterly weaned from creature help, false hope, carnal wisdom, and fleshly strength, we are not in a fit state to receive the manifold mercy of God. We are rich and increased with goods, and have need of nothing, and know not that we are wretched and poor and miserable and blind and naked (Rev.3:17).
Every soul, then taught of God, that is in this state, has an interest in this promise. You may not be able to realize it, you may not be able to rise up to it, but I know this--you will be crying to God to fulfil it in your souls. You cannot do without the manifestation of peace, more or less powerfully in your conscience; and if the Lord has brought you there, he will in his own time and way open up these sweet promises, and convey the riches couched in them into your poor and needy heart. To him may we be kept ever looking; on him may our eyes be ever fixed, that he would fulfil his promises in our soul's experience, and do for us far more than we can even ask or think! For are not these blessings worth seeking?
When sickness comes and death draws near, when weeping relatives and anxious friends surround the dying bed, will you not want peace--peace in your soul, that you may be able to look with joy into eternity, and resign your departing spirit with calm and holy confidence into the hands of God? Sin has set us far off from God. Where this is truly and deeply felt, we shall want to be brought near by the blood of sprinkling. And this alone will give support in life comfort in death, and happiness in eternity.
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