The Wine of Astonishment 2
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2. But we will look at the words in another sense. Wine, as I before pointed out, not only stupefies but INFLAMES. There are those whom wine sets on fire, as there are those whom wine stupefies; for it has these two opposite effects on different constitutions. So it is spiritually. When the LAW of God meets with the corruptions of the human heart, it does not subdue them, bring them into obedience, alter their nature, or transmute them into grace; but rather sets them on fire, as wine inflames the passions—"Wine is a mocker, strong drink is raging." (Prov. 20:1.) So the apostle says—"For when we were controlled by the sinful nature, the sinful passions aroused by the law were at work in our bodies, so that we bore fruit for death." "But sin took advantage of this law and aroused all kinds of forbidden desires within me! If there were no law, sin would not have that power." (Rom. 7:5, 8.) The law, then, like wine to the passions, inflames the heart's corruptions; and, as the eyes of the drunken, "behold strange women, and his heart utters perverse things" (Prov. 23:33); so, under the influence of the law, every lust and corruption are stirred up in the heart, and perverseness is conceived and uttered by it. This is being made "to drink the wine of astonishment;" for is it not astonishing that a holy law, given by a holy God, should only stir up nature's corruption; that that which is meant to produce obedience should rather stir up disobedience; and that life put into the commandment should work a sentence of death in the soul?
3. But let me now show you another effect of Gospel wine, which is, as I have already hinted, to gladden, cheer, and exhilarate. In this sense we may explain the passage which I have before quoted from the parable of Jotham, where wine is said "to cheer God and man." This must be the gospel; for the obedience of his dear Son, which the gospel reveals cheered, so to speak, the very heart of God; and I am sure it cheers the heart of man. In this sense, too, it is still "the wine of astonishment;" for when the Lord by his Spirit and grace makes a wondrous change, and instead of thundering forth the terrors of the law, sounds the silver notes of the gospel; instead of revealing wrath, reveals a sense of mercy; instead of sending the sinner to his justly deserved doom; drops into his heart a sense of his pardoning love and grace; this cheering draught of gospel wine makes him to drink the wine of astonishment. For is it not astonishing that the Lord can thus "give strong drink unto him that is ready to perish, and wine unto those that have heavy hearts," bidding him "drink and forget his poverty, and remember his misery no more?" (Prov. 31:6, 7.) Is it not astonishing to the soul how the Lord can pardon a sinner so vile; how his grace can superabound over the aboundings of his sin; and how the blood of the Lamb applied to the conscience purges it from all its guilt, filth, and dead works to serve the living God?
Thus, whether we take the wine to represent the wine that stupefies, or the wine that inflames, or the wine that cheers and exhilarates—take the figure in all or any of these senses—well may we say, after we have been made to drink it, even but a few drops of it, "You have made us to drink of the wine of astonishment!" Let this, then, ever be deeply engraved upon the tablets of our heart, that all God's doings and all God's dealings, are doings and dealings to fill us with holy wonder, so that we may well say, "Who is like unto you, O Lord, among the gods? who is like you, glorious in holiness, fearful in praises, doing wonders?" (Exodus 15:11); and with the Psalmist, "You are the God that does wonders!" (Psalm. 77:14.)
In the law, he is full of holiness, justice, and majesty; in the gospel, he is full of grace, mercy, and truth—but whether in the law or in the gospel, we may well say of and to him, "Marvelous are your works; and that my soul knows right well." (Psalm. 139:14.) So whether you drink the wine of his anger or the wine of his love; whether the wine cup of the law or the wine cup of the gospel is put into your hands, you may say of each, "You have made us to drink of the wine of astonishment." For take this as my closing remark on this part of our subject, that it is the Lord who makes us to drink, and that neither the wine nor the draught is our own.
II. But it is time to pass on to the distinctive BLESSING of the Church, as pointed out in the latter clause of our text; and I think we shall find a connection between her complaints and her blessings—"You have given a banner to those who fear you."
A. You will observe that the church here speaks of a banner being given to those who fear God. Now, do you not perceive the connection between the "hard things" which God shows his people and "the wine of astonishment" which he gives them to drink, and the fear of his great name? for these points are put into close association with each other. The connection, then, is this, that the "hard things" which the Lord's people are shown, and "the wine of astonishment" which they are given to drink, impress the fear of God very deep on their conscience. The fear of God is written as with the point of a diamond upon a man's heart by the "hard things" which he shows unto them. A stout heart, far from righteousness, needs some severe dealings with it to bring it down. A powerful impression is required upon such a conscience, so as to leave permanent marks there of the hand of God. Thus these "hard things" leave deep impressions of the majesty and greatness of him with whom we have to do. And is not this a blessing?
You may have complained, as the church of old in our text, "You have showed your people hard things." O Lord, what hard things you have made me to learn. How rough and rugged my path in providence; how strict, how severe my path in grace! In your holy law; in the discovery of my helplessness and the abounding corruptions of my heart; in the daily cross that so galls my shoulder; in the darkness, guilt, and bondage with which I am so continually exercised, what hard things have you showed me, O Lord, and still continue to show. Yes! and you have made me drink of the wine of astonishment, when I have looked up and had a view of you, or looked down and had a view of myself!
But have I learned nothing from these hard lessons, from these tastes and sips of your wondrous wine? Have they made no impression on my spirit? Have they wrought no good in my soul? Yes, I trust they have; for have they not caused the fear of God to take deeper root in my heart? Thus, the Lord's dealings, though they are "hard things" to bear, and the wine which he gives, though it is the wine of astonishment, yet they are both productive of the greatest blessing God can bestow, which is his fear planted deep in a tender conscience. Light things, easy things, smooth things, soft things, would not have made this deep impression. Milk and water would not have stupefied, or inflamed, or cheered you. Your religion would have been a religion of milk and water.
Why are so few possessed of that heavenly treasure, the fear of God? Because religion is with them so light and easy; they can put it off and put it on; take it up and lay it down; have it or have it not, just as they please; therefore it is with them a non-essential thing, a secondary matter; a Sunday's task, an extra garment, an overcoat, sometimes to be worn, sometimes to be laid aside. But where God is pleased to teach the soul with a high hand and a stretched out arm, and shows his people "hard things" and makes them drink of "the wine of astonishment until they reel and stagger under his powerful stroke, these dealings drive the nail home; they plant the fear of God very deep in a man's conscience. But when the Lord has planted his fear deep in a man's conscience, he brings forth and communicates the distinctive blessing, which is the banner. "You have given a banner to those who fear you."
B. But what is "the banner" spoken of in our text? It is, I believe, in a few words, the banner of truth and love; or, to put it together in one sentence, "the love of the truth." I think we may prove this from two passages—one shall be the words before us, "that it may be displayed because of the truth." Truth, then, heavenly truth, is, according to our text, one constituent part of the banner. But we read also, "He brought me to the banqueting-house, and his banner over me was love." (Song 2:4.) So we will put the two together, so as to make one inscription, which we will trace upon our banner in letters so broad and clear that he who runs may read it—Truth in the love of it. Does not the pattern of our banner correspond with what we read, "They received not the love of the truth that they might be saved" (2 Thess. 2:10); clearly implying that those who receive the love of the truth shall be saved? My friends, it is not the truth that will save us—naked, bare truth—truth in the letter without the power. It is "the love of the truth," in other words, truth received in love by the application of the blessed Spirit to the heart, making it precious to the soul, in which salvation lies. Never be satisfied with the naked letter of truth; never rest short of the truth applied to your heart in the love and by the power of God. This, then, is our banner—the banner which God gives to those that fear his name.
But what is a BANNER in its literal, natural signification, for we must clearly understand that to arrive at its spiritual meaning? It is a standard, or ensign, or to use simpler language, a flag. As such it is a frequent Scripture emblem, and we may consider it emblematic of three distinct things, being three purposes for which the banner is usually employed.
1. First, it is a distinctive mark. The first thing that is done when an army is raised is to have a distinctive flag. When the Confederates, for instance, in America, broke off from the Union, the very first thing was to discard the stars and stripes, the old national banner, and to have a separate and distinctive flag. How could it be known on which side the soldiers were to fight, unless the flags were different? In our military, I believe, every regiment has its distinctive flag. So a banner, as a Scriptural emblem, represents the distinctive mark of the people of God, by which they are distinguished from an ungodly world. When the Lord then makes his truth precious to their heart, he gives them a banner to separate them from all others, to make and manifest them good soldiers of Jesus Christ, and to march under his guidance to certain victory. The distinctive mark of a "disciple indeed" is to know the truth, and to find that the truth makes them free. None know the power of the truth, the preciousness of truth, the liberty of truth, and the love of truth, but the family of God. The Captain of their salvation gives them this banner when he seals them his in the love of it.
2. But a banner has another emblematic signification. In the field of battle, when the trumpets sound the charge, the flag has to advance. It is not left wrapped up in the tent, nor thrown into the baggage wagon, nor hidden anywhere out of sight, but has to wave over the heads of the advancing troops, that they may fight valiantly under its glorious folds. How many a gallant youth of England's noble blood has borne onward the British flag in the front of the enemy. So it is in grace. The church, in the Song, is said to be "dreadful as an army with banners." (Song 6:12.) But why should an army with banners be dreadful? Because it is an advancing foe. Their banners glitter in the sun; they are raised on high; the gallant ensign leads the way; the soldiers move rapidly after. How beautiful their array, how dreadful their advance, how unified their ranks, how dreadful their charge! When a city is to be assaulted and the breach to be stormed, the first sign of victory is to plant the flag upon the battlements.
The first Roman foot that trod the British shore when Caesar invaded this island was that of the standard-bearer of the 10th legion. The bold Britons lined the shore with ferocious appearance; the sea was deep and the beach high, so that the troops held back; but the standard-bearer of the 10th legion leaped into the sea with the Roman flag in his hand, bidding the soldiers follow him unless they would abandon their banner to the enemy. Animated by his example, they all rushed into the sea and put the enemy to flight.
So God gives a banner to those who fear him; not to hide out of sight, not to conceal it in the tent, as Achan hid his Babylonish garment, but to bear it manfully on high in the very face of all their foes. And what so cheering, what so animating, as the love of the truth? If this will not nerve our hand and strengthen our foot, what will? I hope the Lord has put the love of the truth into my heart, and the banner of truth into my hand. When the Lord "sends among the fat ones leanness;" when he "consumes the glory of his forest and of his fruitful field both soul and body," he adds, to show the effect of the general distress, "they shall be as when a standard-bearer faints." (Isaiah 10:16, 18.) If, then, the standard-bearer faints, how it discourages the rest of the army. When ministers droop their heads, or turn their backs, how can we expect but that discouragement should spread itself among the ranks? O, you standard-bearers of the banner of truth and love; O, you officers in the army of the living God, be not discouraged; let not your hands droop, still less turn your back upon the foe; but go boldly on, fighting against sin and Satan even unto the death, under the glorious banner of God's truth waving over your head.
3. But, if an army receive a temporary check, or if there be fugitives from the ranks, a banner is of great use for a rallying point. The Lord, therefore, says, "Lift you up a banner upon the high mountain, exalt the voice unto them, shake the hand, that they may go into the gates of the nobles." (Isaiah. 13:2, 3.) When troops are broken, as they sometimes are by a hostile charge, if there were no banner, no flag, there would be no rallying point. But where they see a banner or flag raised up on high, especially their own regimental flag, there is a rallying point. In our civil wars, wherever the king was there was his flag, first set up at Nottingham, and then from time to time at his various headquarters. This, then, served as a rallying point for every royalist, as the flag of the Commonwealth for the opposite side.
So we poor fugitives, I won't call ourselves deserters—the Lord has no deserters from his army; but we poor fugitives often driven back, though never really defeated, when we see the glorious standard of God's truth waved on high, have a rallying point to bring us back once more under the Lord's own banner; for as Moses, when the children of Israel fought with Amalek, "built an altar and called the name of it Jehovah-Nissi," that is, "the Lord my banner," so "in the name of God we set up our banners." (Psalm. 20:5.)
Have you not sometimes been sadly scattered by sin and Satan—thoughts, words, desires, evidences, marks, tokens, all scattered in all directions, as if by a hostile charge? Still you know something of God's truth, for you have felt the love and power of it in your heart; so that if perplexed you are not in despair; if persecuted, not forsaken; if cast down, not destroyed. Love to the truth forms then a rallying point for your scattered experience. Your desires and affections are towards the Lord and his truth. You look up, you see the banner floating on high; you come back to the camp, and once more find yourself underneath the folds of that glorious gospel flag. I have read in books of travels that nothing is so cheering to an Englishman when traveling in the East as to see England's flag flying over a residence, or from the mast of a ship. He knows whoever assault him he is safe there, for under the folds of that time-honored banner England's protection is thrown over him, yes, England herself, our glorious country is present, wherever her flag flies to protect all her citizens.
So it is in grace—where truth is in its love and in its power, there Christ is; there is his honor, there his gospel, there his glory. This view brings us to our next point,
III. The peculiar PRIVILEGE of the Church of God that this glorious banner is to be displayed, because of the truth.
A. If, then, the Lord has given a banner to those who fear his name, and this banner is truth and love, it is not to be concealed out of sight, carried in the pocket, folded round the waist, or thrown into the baggage wagons among the women and children of the camp. It is to be "displayed," that men may read the inscription, whether friend or foe. But this requires both strength and courage. A flag is not easy to carry, especially in the face of the enemy. It requires a stout arm and a bold heart. But unless it be carried on high, who can see its distinctive character or read its inscription—the love of truth? May the Lord enable me ever boldly and clearly to display it, and may you and all who sit under the Gospel rejoice in the testimony that the banner over you may be love; and as the Englishman feels protection under England's glorious flag, fly where it may, so when you sit under the sound of the Gospel may you feel yourselves safe under its ample folds.
But I will tell you when it is displayed the best—when the wind blows upon it. On a calm day, you know, the flag hangs round the flag-post; the folds droop, and there is no reading the inscription. But let the wind blow—then how the folds are raised; the flag floats boldly forth in all its breadth and length, and the inscription can be read by every eye. So in a spiritual sense—when the heavenly gale of the blessed Spirit blows upon the heart and mouth of the standard bearer, helping him to set forth the truth in the love of it with unction and power, then the holy breeze from the everlasting hills displays the inscription to the soldiers of the cross, and every letter of it testifies to them of blood and love.
B. But there are three things which I hope we never may be allowed to do as regards this glorious flag. You know it would grieve the heart of every true-born Englishman—and I think sometimes I am one to the very back-bone—to see any disgrace befall, or insult poured upon our national flag. I am no politician; I therefore merely quote it as an illustration. But you remember lately how we were almost on the eve of war, on account of an insult shown to our flag—the whole country rose up as one man to resent it. If, then, we are loyal subjects to the King of kings and Lord of lords, whose name we bear, we must feel at least as much loyalty to our distinctive flag—the love of truth—as ever we do to our national flag. There are, then, three things from which I hope the Lord will ever keep us.
1. First, may we never DENY it! If you were an Englishman traveling abroad, in Turkey or any other land, you would not deny your country—the country of your birth—and repudiate her flag. You would not, for the sake of a little gain or for fear of a little contempt, conceal the fact that you were an Englishman, and born under your country's banner. Would it not, then, be very disgraceful in you, after having professed a love to the truth, for the sake of a little pelf, or for a little fear of man, to deny that precious truth under which you have enlisted, and in which at times you have taken solemn pleasure? Never, then, deny the truth, as no true-hearted Englishman ever would, even were death before him, renounce his country's flag.
2. Secondly, never DESERT it; never turn your back upon it, or go from truth to error, or from the love of truth to love a lie. Some cases occurred in the Crimea of our soldiers deserting their flag and going over to the Russians; and one of these wretched deserters, I believe, if not more, met with his just deserts, being shot down by his former comrades before he reached the enemy's lines. So may we never desert our glorious flag—love of the truth. If we do, we deserve to be shot before we reach the camp of the enemy.
3. And, thirdly, may we never DISGRACE it. It is a glorious flag, the flag of truth. It is purity itself, for "every word of God is pure." May we, then, never trail it in the dirt. May none of us who profess to love the truth, by word or deed, ever disgrace that cause which I trust we hold dear, nor dip the glorious flag into the common sewer.
Bear these things in mind. The flag is to be displayed, therefore don't let it be a dirty flag. It may be honorably shot through; it may even be stained with blood. This is no disgrace; but don't let it be defiled with the dirt of the street. If you were an ensign in the army, you would not like to carry before your regiment a flag which you had let fall into the mud. Then don't you, with God's help and blessing, ever disgrace the glorious banner of God's truth by letting it fall through your misconduct into the mire. The Lord alone can give us grace to adorn it. May it be our desire not only not to deny it, not to desert it, and not to disgrace it; but as gallant soldiers love to glorify the flag of their country, and every regiment in the service will gladly shed their blood to cover it with honor and glory, so may we, as good soldiers of Jesus Christ desire to adorn that glorious flag under which we have enlisted, and which the Lord himself has put into our hands, that it may be displayed, because of the truth!
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