The Valley of Achor 2
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So when we are taken into the wilderness, we learn through its trials and temptations, that we have neither strength nor wisdom nor righteousness—in fact, that we have nothing and are nothing, and are thus made spiritually and experimentally the neediest of all paupers—and most abject of all dependents upon the sovereign bounty of God.
You little thought, when the Lord was graciously dealing with your soul and giving you to taste something of the sweetness of manifested mercy, and the blessings of his grace, that this was all intended to allure you into the wilderness where God might speak with you face to face, and there teach you lessons which are to be learned in no other spot. It is there we learn the evils of the heart; the darkness of our understanding; the alienation of our affections; the wretched unbelief, infidelity, murmuring and fretfulness of our fallen nature—and there also we learn the wondrous long-suffering, patience, and forbearance of God.
III. What God does to his people when he has brought them into the wilderness—he speaks comfortably unto them; gives them their vineyards from thence; andopens in the valley of Achor, a door of hope. When we come into the wilderness under these alluring drawings of God, then the Lord carries on a certain work, of which he has spoken in the text as threefold, and which I shall therefore, adopting that division, now bring before you.
A. The first promise is that he will "speak comfortably unto her." It is in the margin "to her heart;" and I shall adopt that reading as my first explanation of the meaning of the word "comfortably." God speaks to the heart—that is the special characteristic of his voice. Men may speak to the ear, and they can do no more; but God speaks to the heart, for it is there that his voice alone is heard. All true religion, from beginning to end, lies in a man's heart. He may have his head well furnished with notions, yet a heart destitute of grace.
But not so with the vessels of mercy, for they "believe with the heart unto righteousness;" and it is by the voice of God heard in the heart that a saving faith is raised up in the soul. There God must speak if there is to be any heart religion, any sound or saving experience, any knowledge of the truth so as to be blessed and saved thereby.
But in the wilderness we learn the deep necessity there is, that God should speak to our heart. We need the Lord himself to speak—and the Lord alone; and to speak such words as shall reach our heart and enter with a divine power into our conscience. When you are in the wilderness, you have no friend, no creature help, no worldly comfort—these have all abandoned you. God has led you into the wilderness to bereave you of these earthly ties, of these 'creature refuges' and 'vain hopes'—that he may himself speak to your soul. If, then, you are separated from the world by being brought into the wilderness—if you are passing through trials and afflictions—if you are exercised with a variety of temptations—and are brought into that spot where the creature yields neither help nor hope, then you are made to see and feel that nothing but God's voice speaking with power to your soul, which can give you any solid ground of rest or peace.
Thus in the wilderness we learn not only the most painful, but the most profitable lessons that God can teach us. There we are stripped of all our own righteousness—there we see the end of all our own wisdom—and there all our native strength and creature confidence fail and give way—and come to nothing. But as these fail, they teach us the necessity, the indispensable necessity of looking to the Lord that he may be our all in all.
The thirst in the wilderness taught the children of Israel the necessity and blessedness of 'water out of the rock'—the hunger of the wilderness taught them the necessity and the blessedness of manna from heaven. As, then, in the wilderness by every trial and temptation, our heart is more laid open to our view; as trials more deeply perplex, as afflictions more heavily press, and temptations more continually annoy—we come to this spot in our own conscience—"God himself must be my all in all—it is he and he alone that must save me—from him my hope must come—from him all my strength, happiness, and consolation—I have nothing but what he gives and am nothing but what he makes." Is not this the language of the way-worn pilgrim in the wilderness?
Thus, by these teachings and operations of the Spirit of God upon your heart, you come to this point—that God himself must speak to your heart, or you have nothing on which you can hang—nothing to which you can look. Is not this profitable? It may be painful; it is painful; but it is profitable, because by it we learn to look to the Lord and the Lord alone—and this must ever be a blessed lesson to learn for every child of God.
But take the words as they stand, "I will speak comfortably unto her." We have almost the same words in Isaiah 40:1, "Comfort, comfort my people, says your God. Speak comfortably to Jerusalem." It is in the margin as it is also in our text, "Speak to the heart of Jerusalem." But what are these comfortable tidings which are to be announced to her, spoken to her very heart? What are those things which alone can give her true comfort?
1. "Tell her that her warfare is accomplished"—that is, that peace is now her happy portion, for her warfare is ceased, her foes defeated, her battles won, her long, hard, toilsome "appointed time" of military service fulfilled, and that now she may, at least for a season, rest in the Lord as the all-victorious Captain of her salvation. But is there no other comfortable message for her? Yes!
2. Tell her secondly, says the Lord, "that her iniquity is pardoned." These are the best of all possible tidings, the most blessed as the most suitable of all good news. The manifested pardon of sin is the best gift of God's grace that can reach a sinner's heart—and indeed without it, there is no true comfort. But is there no other message to Zion's heart? Yes!
3. The Lord, thirdly, assures her that "she has received of the Lord's hand double for all her sins." What does this "double" mean? I understand by it the rich super-aboundings of grace over the aboundings of sin; that is, the Lord is not content simply to pardon, simply to bless with mercy and peace, but will give them so superaboundingly that they shall be double of all her past guilt and sorrow.
But again, the Lord speaks comfortably, when he assures the soul of its interest in the atoning blood and justifying obedience of his dear Son. Many of the dear saints of God are often very much tried as to their saving interest in these precious realities. They cannot give up their hope; they cannot altogether deny what God has done for their souls; and yet many anxious doubts and fears distress their mind as to their real interest in the atoning blood and finished work of the Son of God. Satan often takes great advantage of this state of doubt and uncertainty to harass and perplex their mind, and they are thus brought to this point that the Lord alone can satisfy them, that indeed he died for them. When, then, he speaks comfortably unto them, he drops a sweet promise or a gracious word into their heart, and thus makes their saving interest in atoning blood and dying love plain and clear.
This may seem to fall short of a full manifestation of pardoning love, for it does not come exactly in that way; and yet it is in fact the same, for wherever there is a clear discovery of saving interest in atoning blood, there pardon is clearly manifested, for if they have a place in the heart of Jesus and a saving interest in the work of Jesus, "there is no condemnation" to them, as being thus manifestly "in him" (Rom. 8:1); and if no condemnation, there must be justification, and, if justification, pardon and peace. (Rom. 5:1.)
But as the Lord's people, after they have received manifested mercy are brought into the wilderness, and indeed are allured into it by the drawings of everlasting love, and as their trials and afflictions in it are usually very great, they want words from God's own mouth to support and comfort them under their various and severe afflictions. We have seen already that the Lord brings them into the wilderness, that in that secluded, solitary spot he may himself speak to their heart. Little was spoken by the Lord to his people when in Egypt, except to kill and eat the paschal lamb. He reserved his voice until he had gotten them into the wilderness, and could talk with them face to face, sometimes "the Lord spoke to you face to face from the heart of the fire on the mountain," (Deut. 5:4), and sometimes "in the cloudy pillar." (Psalm. 99:7.) Thus also he speaks in Ezekiel, "And I will bring you into the wilderness, and there will I plead with you face to face. Like as I pleaded with your fathers in the wilderness of the land of Egypt, so will I plead with you, says the Lord God."
When, then, the Lord is pleased to apply some gracious word or sweet promise to their mind, or to bring home a precious portion of his truth to their heart, he speaks comfortably unto them, and by thus assuring them of their saving interest in his love and mercy, he raises up their drooping spirit and gives them power and strength to bear the weight of every cross laid upon their shoulders.
But again, as another instance of speaking comfortably unto them, the Lord from time to time opens up his past dealings with his people, casts a ray of light on the way that he has led them in the wilderness, renews and ratifies his former work upon their souls, and thus gives them a sweet testimony that what they experienced in times past was really wrought by his gracious hand in the depths of their conscience.
B. But to pass on to a second wilderness blessing, he adds, "I will give her her vineyards from thence." What is it that causes many of the Lord's family to go heavily, being burdened? Their lack of fruit—that they cannot live as they earnestly desire, to the glory of God. They desire to walk in the fear of the Lord all the day long; to be fruitful in heart, in lip, and life. They would be spiritually minded, which they know is life and peace; they would ever be enjoying the presence of the Lord; they would glorify him in all that they say and do. But alas! they cannot be what they desire—for they find evil continually working in their heart. The deep-seated corruptions of their fallen nature defile and pollute everything they think, say, and do—and this feeling sense of their innate depravity, and of their total contrariety to all that purity and holiness which they would desire to possess as followers of Christ—casts them down at times into great trouble and distress as well as bondage and confusion of mind.
But the Lord still means to make them fruitful in every good word and work—to grant them the desires of their heart—and enable them to live to his praise. How, then, does he effect this? He allures them into the wilderness—he thus draws them away from everything that entangles their mind and captivates their affections—brings them into that secret spot where all without and within is a barren waste—shows them the world in its true colors as filled with thorns and briers—and that vanity and vexation of spirit are all it can give. The experience of these things makes them grieve and mourn under the workings of sin in themselves, and as touched with sympathizing affections, under a view of the miseries whereby they are surrounded, as the lot of all the children of God. This, then, is the fitting spot where the Lord is pleased to speak to the heart of his mourners in Zion—and reveal comforting words to their soul. And as it is under the gracious feelings thus produced, that fruit is borne to the praise and glory of God, it may be truly said, that he gives them their vineyards from thence.
But is not this a contradiction, or if not a contradiction, a miracle? A contradiction it is not, for it is in the fullest harmony with God's word and work. But a miracle it is, for indeed such is the nature of all God's dealings with his people. They are all miracles of mercy and grace. It may indeed be justly asked—Can we expect to find vineyards in awilderness? Does the vine grow there naturally, or can it be made to grow there by artificial cultivation? Is not this the very character of a wilderness—that in it is neither vine nor fig-tree, field nor pasture? How, then, can vineyards be found in the rocky desert? By the same miracle that water was brought out of the flinty rock. No less a miracle is it that the place where fruit is found, is the last place where fruit would naturally or artificially grow. And yet how this enhances God's grace, and displays the greatness of his power.
But let us now see the Lord giving Zion her "vineyards in the wilderness". It is by causing the "fruits of his Spirit" to spring up in her heart, for that is the wilderness to which our text points. Look at her then in the wilderness—bowed down by grief and trouble. Patience is given her to bear her afflictions with submission to the will of God. Is not this a gospel fruit?Godly sorrow on account of her sins and backslidings is graciously communicated—there is another cluster of grapes on this fruitful branch. Gratitude to the Lord for his patience, long-suffering, and tender forbearance—is not this another cluster of rich and ripe fruit in this vineyard in the wilderness? Giving up everything to his gracious disposal with a sincere and earnest desire that he would fulfill all his wise purposes, in perfect harmony with his own sovereign will—this is another cluster of grapes on this vine of the desert. Blessing andpraising God even for his afflicting hand, thanking him for the furnace, for the trials and temptations which have been so mercifully and wisely overruled for the soul's spiritual benefit. Lift up the leaf which has hidden it from view, and see if you cannot find this rich and ripe cluster hanging upon the vine in the wilderness.
Separation from the world—deadness to the things of time and sense—spirituality of mind—holy and heavenly affections fixed upon things above—here are more grapes that grow upon this vine, planted by the hand of God in the strong desert. Walking in godly fear—abstaining from even the appearance of evil—setting the Lord ever before our eyes—living to him and not to ourselves—doing his will from the heart, and walking before him in the light of his countenance. Look under the green leaves of a consistent profession and see how these ripe grapes grow in the wilderness into which God allures his people, that he may give them vineyards from thence.
How different is nature from grace! In NATURE the vine grows upon the sunny bank, or in our climate in the rich border, and needs much care and cultivation of human hands to bring the fruit to perfection. But in GRACE we do not get the vine with its clustering grapes from the rich bed, or the sunny bank—nor from digging, hoeing, and weeding the native soil of our own heart—but by the Lord's alluring it by his Spirit and grace into the wilderness, where nature withers and dies, but where he causes the spiritual vine to grow and bear fruit, and the vineyards of his right-hand planting—the churches of his experimental truth, to flourish and abound.
Have you not often desired to live more to God's glory—to walk more in his fear—to be more spiritually minded—to have the Scriptures more deeply and experimentally opened up to you—and to enjoy more heavenly fellowship with the Father and his dear Son? I am sure from my own experience, that such is the desire of a gracious heart. But you little thoughthow the Lord would work in you to will and to do of his good pleasure, and to make you fruitful in every good word and work. You did not think it would be by his alluring you into the wilderness of trial and affliction, temptation and sorrow—and that there he would cause the vine of his grace to take deeper root in your bosom and cause the fruits of righteousness so earnestly longed for to grow upon the bough—drooping and trailing from weakness—and yet running over the wall, as was said of Joseph. (Gen. 49:22.)
But can you not now see the wisdom and mercy of God in this? If we had not been previously brought down into the wilderness we would be ascribing the fruit to our own exertions—to the natural goodness of the soil—or to our skill in cultivation. But it being so purely, and I may say so miraculously, the especial gift and grace of God, we must acknowledge him to be the sole author of it, and confess before God and man, "From you and you alone, is our fruit found."
C. A third "wilderness blessing" which the Lord promises to do for his church in the wilderness, is that he will there give her "in the valley of Achor, a door of hope." This carries us back to ancient days when a very solemn scene took place in the valley of Achor. You recollect that before Jericho was taken, God pronounced a solemn curse upon any man that should take of "the accursed thing"—the spoil of Jericho, which was "devoted" to destruction (Josh. 6:17), as lying under the curse of God; and you will remember that a man named Achan, despising God's command, and seduced by a spirit of greedy covetousness, took a Babylonish garment, two hundred shekels of silver, and a wedge of gold of 50 shekels weight, and hid them in his tent. You will also call to mind how the eye of God marked it all—how when the lot was cast it fell upon the guilty man; how he was taken into the valley of Achor with all that he had, and how "all Israel stoned him with stones and burnt them with fire. Therefore the name of that place was called the valley of Achor, unto this day." (Josh. 7:26.)
To this solemn transaction, therefore, the Holy Spirit makes allusion in the words of our text, where he speaks of "the valley of Achor" as a "door of hope." Achor means "confusion," and as Achan was stoned to death in it for taking the accursed thing, it may also signify "destruction." "The valley of Achor," then, is spiritually the same place as the wilderness—for that to a child of God often is the valley of confusion where his mouth is stopped through guilt and shame, as was Achan's when the lot fell upon him, and he was obliged to confess his sins before God and man. It is also often to the saint of God the valley of "destruction;" for when the accursed thing, the spoil of this doomed world, is found in his possession as loved and delighted in, a sense of God's anger falls upon him, and by this all his legal hope and fleshly righteousness are destroyed—stoned as it were with stones, and burnt with fire, as a just judgment from God for loving the world, which is God's enemy.
Have you not sometimes feared lest the judgments of God should fall openly upon you, as having sinned against him as covetously and as wickedly as Achan sinned by taking of the accursed thing, and that your lot might be the same—to be a monument of God's wrath even before the face of man? Have you not even feared lest the people of God should rise up against you on account of your sins and backslidings, and in a spiritual sense stone you out of the camp with stones—or burn you with the fire of just condemnation?
I believe that the valley of Achor is at times as needful a spot as the wilderness for a child of God—for as all must be brought into the wilderness there to have their vineyards given, so must they come down into the valley of Achor—the place of stopping of mouths—the low and humble spot of confusion and trouble—that there the door of hope may be opened up with a divine hand in their soul. As there is no fruit to be found in heart, lip, or life, until God gives it in the wilderness—so until we come into the valley, the low and humble valley of confusion and destruction—there is no good hope through grace communicated. Here, then, is another miracle—for it is in this valley that God opens a door of hope! When the child of God is sometimes almost in despair through the pressure of sin, the curse of the law, and the condemnation of an accusing conscience—the Lord in this very valley, where all legal hope sinks and dies—opens a door of hope in his desponding heart.
But how does he affect this? He sends down a ray of mercy, a beam of grace, gives a view of atoning blood and dying love, or grants a gracious manifestation of his dear Son—and thus revealing the Lord of life and glory as the way, the truth, and the life—opens a door of hope, whereby the soul enters into his gracious presence by the power of the resurrection of Jesus from the dead. As holy John "looked, and behold a door was opened in heaven," so there is a door of hope opened to the soul even when expecting Achan's fate in the gloomy valley of Achor. How blessed this is! As Deer says of himself, "I looked for hell—but he brought me heaven!"
When you expected wrath—then to find mercy; fearing judgment—to obtain pardon; dreading punishment—to receive the declaration, "I have loved you with an everlasting love." Is not this an opening in the valley of Achor of a door of hope?
IV. But let me come now to our last point—the EFFECT of these gracious dealings of God in the wilderness—the gracious fruit of praise and thankfulness for his speaking comfortably to the heart, giving the vineyards, and opening a door of hope in this gloomy valley. "She shall sing there, as in the days of her youth, and as in the day when she came up out of the land of Egypt."
We will give the spiritual and experimental sense as now fulfilled in the hearts of God's saints. I have already shown you how God allures them into the wilderness. By these allurements he espouses them to himself. When, then, he speaks comfortably to them in the wilderness, gives them there gracious fruits, and opens a door of hope, he revives and renews those former days of 'chaste, virgin love'. These days God himself remembers, for he says, "I remember you, the kindness of your youth, the love of your espousals, when you went after me in the wilderness, in a land that was not sown." (Jer. 2:2.)
Didn't you once have a 'day of espousals' when the Lord was first pleased to reveal a sense of his mercy and goodness to your soul, and thus espoused you as a chaste virgin to the Son of his love? Those were the days of 'young love', when we tasted that the Lord was gracious, and having a view of his beauty and blessedness, fell deeply in love with him who is "altogether lovely."
But, after the days of our espousals, we had to go into the wilderness—there to learn what we are by nature—there to have the deep secrets of the heart opened up—there to have a long succession of trials and temptations, afflictions and sorrows—that we might learn experimentally what this world is—and what we are as sinners in it. Yet the Lord is gracious still even in the wilderness, and brings his people there that he may communicate unto them the blessings of which I have spoken. Under the enjoyment of them, Zion begins to sing; and what is her song? A new song, according to those words, "O sing unto the Lord a new song" (Psalm. 96:1); and yet not new, for it is the same song which she sang "in the days of her youth."
Singing, in scripture, is always connected with joy and gladness, and especially after a release from captivity; for to sing his praise is the instinctive feeling of the soul when experimentally blessed. But 'Zion in the wilderness' had forgotten her ancient song, nor could she sing it again until the Lord spoke comfortably to her heart. She could sigh and groan, weep and lament, but no joyful song could she raise, for her harp was hung upon the willows, and in that strange land she could not sing the Lord's song. (Psalm. 137:2, 4.) But no sooner does the Lord begin to speak comfortably to her in the wilderness, give her her vineyards from thence, and open the door of hope in the valley of Achor, than a new song is put into her mouth, even a song of praise and thanksgiving to her God.
Have you not sometimes been obliged to burst forth into a song of praise to the God of all your mercies for an unexpected visit of his gracious presence, or for some discovery of his goodness, mercy, and love? This is singing as in the days of your youth—those youthful days not only in nature but also in grace, when the Lord made himself very near, dear, and precious to your soul—and the world and sin were put under your feet. Many changes may we have seen since then; many lusts and corruptions may have been brought to light; much unbelief discovered; many backslidings and departings from the Lord have been committed, over the painful recollection of, we may have still to sigh and mourn. But the Lord, who has begun his gracious work upon the sinner's heart, never leaves or forsakes the operation of his own hands; for whom he loves, he loves unto the end—and from that love, not "things present nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature" shall be able to separate its favored object.
"I will see you again," was our Lord's gracious promise to his disciples, "and your heart shall rejoice, and no man takes your joy from you." When, then, the Lord comes again in mercy and love, he enables the soul to sing once more the song of Moses and the Lamb, "as in the days of her youth, and as in the day when she came up out of the land of Egypt." It is as it were, a revival, and more than a revival, of the blessed days of old. Under this sweet influence, the soul can say, "What have I to do any more with idols?" Then it can leave the professing and profane world, being separated from both by wilderness trials as well as by wilderness mercies.
These dealings of the Lord make a deep and lasting impression upon the mind—for his teachings are to profit—and the fruit of them is to be seen—in a clearer and fuller separation from all evil and all error—in greater simplicity and sincerity of spirit—in a deeper conviction of the exceeding sinfulness of sin—in increased tenderness of conscience—and in a walk before God and man in closer consistency with the precepts of the Gospel and the example of the Son of God when tabernacling here below.
Can you find anything in your heart and conscience that bears any resemblance to these 'gracious dealings' these 'divine teachings'? Are you in any one part of the path which I have shown? Is the Lord alluring you—or are you in the wilderness—or is the Lord speaking to your heart—or is he opening in the valley of Achor, a door of hope—or is he putting a new song into your mouth? Compare what you hope and believe the Lord has wrought in your soul with these marks of divine teaching as traced out by the pen of the Holy Spirit in the passage before us—and if you can find any one of these gracious evidences, bless the Lord for his sovereign mercy.
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