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Poor and Contrite Spirits—the Objects of the Divine Favour

by Samuel Davies
"To this man will I look—even to him that is poor and of a contrite spirit, and trembles at My Word." Isaiah 66:2

As we consist of physical bodies—as well as immortal souls; and are endowed with corporeal senses—as well as rational powers; God, who has wisely adapted our religion to our state, requires bodily as well as spiritual worship; and commands us not only to exercise the inward powers of our minds in proper acts of devotion—but also to express our inward devotion by suitable external actions, and to attend upon him in the sensible outward ordinances which he has appointed.

Thus it is under the gospel; but it was more remarkably so under the law, which, compared with the pure and spiritual worship of the gospel, was a system of carnal ordinances, and required a great deal of external pomp and grandeur, and bodily services. Thus a costly and magnificent structure was erected, by divine direction, in the wilderness, called the tabernacle, because built in the form of a tent, and movable from place to place. And afterwards a most stately temple was built by Solomon, with immense cost, where the divine worship should be statedly celebrated, and where all the males of Israel should solemnly meet for that purpose three times in a year. These externals were not intended to exclude the internal worship of the heart—but to express and assist it. And these ceremonials were not to be put into the place of morals—but observed as helps to the practice of them, and to prefigure the great Messiah. Even under the Mosaic dispensation, God had the greatest regard to holiness of heart and a holy life—and the strictest observer of ceremonies could not be accepted without them.

But it is natural to degenerate mankind to invert the order of things, to place a part, the easiest and lowest part of religion—for the whole of it; to rest in the externals of religion as sufficient, without regarding the heart; and to depend upon pharisaical strictness in ceremonial observances, as an excuse for neglecting the weightier matters of the law—judgment, mercy, and faith.

This was the unhappy error of the Jews in Isaiah's time; and this the Lord would correct in the first verses of this chapter. The Jews gloried in their having the house of God among them, and were ever trusting in vain words: "Do not trust in deceptive words and say—This is the temple of the LORD, the temple of the LORD, the temple of the LORD!" Jer. 7:4. They filled his altars with costly sacrifices; and in these they trusted to make atonement for sin, and secure the divine favor.

As to their sacrifices, God lets them know, that while they had no regard to their morals—but chose their own ways, and their souls delighted in their abominations, while they presented them in a formal manner without the fire of divine love—that their sacrifices were so far from procuring his acceptance, that they were odious to him! He abhors their most expensive offerings—as abominable and profane! "But whoever sacrifices a bull—is like one who kills a man; and whoever offers a lamb—is like one who breaks a dog's neck; and whoever makes a grain offering—is like one who presents pig's blood; and whoever burns memorial incense—is like one who worships an idol. They have chosen their own ways, and their souls delight in their abominations!" Isaiah 66:3

To remove this superstitious confidence in the temple, the Lord informs them that he had no need of it; that, as large and magnificent as it was, it was not fit to contain him; and that, in consecrating it to him, they should not proudly think that they had given him anything to which he had no prior right. "Thus says the Lord: Heaven is my throne—where I reign conspicuous in the visible majesty and grandeur of a God; and though the earth is not adorned with such illustrious displays of my immediate presence, though it does not shine in all the glory of my royal palace on high—yet it is a little province in my immense empire, and subject to my authority; it is my footstool. If, then, heaven is my throne, and earth is my footstool; if the whole creation is my kingdom—where is the house that you build unto me? where is your temple which appears so stately in your eyes? It is vanished, it is sunk into nothing. Is it able to contain that infinite Being to whom the whole earth is but an humble footstool, and the vast heaven but a throne? Can you vainly imagine that my presence can be confined to you in the narrow bounds of a temple, when the heaven and the heaven of heavens cannot contain me? Where is the place of my rest? Can you provide a place for my repose, as though I were weary? Or can my presence be restrained to one place, incapable of acting beyond the prescribed limits? No! Only infinite space can equal my being and perfections; only infinite space is a sufficient sphere for my operations! Can you imagine you can bribe my favour, and give me something I had no right to before—by all the stately buildings you can rear to my name? Is not the universe mine? For all these things has my hand made out of nothing, and all these things have been or still exist by the support of my all-preserving hand; and what right can be more valid and inalienable than that founded upon creation? Your silver and gold are mine; and mine are the cattle upon a thousand hills! And therefore, you but give me what is my own! says the Lord."

These are such majestic strains of language, as are worthy a God. Thus it befits him to advance himself above the whole creation, and to assert his absolute property in, and independence of—the universe. Had he only turned to us the bright side of his throne, which dazzles us with insufferable splendour; had he only displayed his majesty unalloyed with grace and condescension in such language as this—it would have overwhelmed us, and cast us into the most abject despondency, as the outcasts of his providence, and beneath his notice. We might fear he would overlook us with majestic disdain, or careless neglect, like the little things that are called 'great' by mortals, or as the busy emmets of our species are apt to do. We would be ready, in hopeless anxiety, to say, "Is all this earth which to us appears so vast, and which is parcelled into 'a thousand mighty kingdoms', as we call them, is it all but the humble foot-stool of God? hardly worthy to bear his feet? What then—am I? An atom of an atom-world; a trifling individual of a trifling race! Can I expect take he will take any notice of such an insignificant thing as I? The vast affairs of heaven and earth lie under his command, and he is employed in the concerns of the wide universe—and can he find leisure to concern himself with me, and my little interests? Will a king, deliberating upon the concerns of nations, interest himself in favour of the worm that crawls at his footstool? If the magnificent temple of Solomon was unworthy of the divine inhabitant, will he admitme into his presence, and give me an audience with him? How can I expect it? It seems daring and presumptuous to hope for such condescension. And shall I then despair of the gracious regard of my Maker."

No! desponding creature! vile and unworthy as you are—hear the voice of divine condescension, as well as of majesty: "To this man will I look, even to him that is poor, and of a contrite spirit, and who trembles at my word!" Though God dwells not in temples made with hands, though he pours contempt upon princes, and scorns them in all their haughty glory and affected majesty—yet there are people whom his gracious eye will regard! The high and lofty One who inhabits eternity, and dwells in the high and holy place, he will look down through all the shining ranks of angels upon-whom? Not on the proud, the haughty and presumptuous—but upon him that is poor and of a contrite spirit, and trembles at his Word. To this man will he look from the throne of his majesty, however low, however base he may be! This man is an object that can, as it were, attract God's eyes from all the glories of the heavenly world, so as to regard a humble, self-abasing worm! This man can never be lost or overlooked among the multitudes of creatures—but the eyes of the Lord will discover him in the greatest crowd, his eyes will graciously fix upon this man, this particular man, though there were but one such in the compass of the creation, or though he were banished into the remotest corner of the universe, like a diamond in a heap of rubbish, or at the bottom of the ocean!

Do you hear this, you who are poor and contrite in spirit, and who tremble at his Word? You who, above all others, are most apt to fear that you shall be disregarded by him; because you, of all others, are most deeply sensible how unworthy you are of his gracious notice. God, the great, the glorious, the awesome God, looks down upon you with eyes of love, and by so much the more affectionately, by how much the lower you are in your own esteem! Does not your heart spring within you at the sound! Are you not lost in pleasing wonder and gratitude, and crying out, "Can it be? Can it be? Is it indeed possible? Is it true?" Yes! You have his own word for it, and do you not think it too good news to be true—but believe, and rejoice, and give glory to his name; and fear not what men or devils can do unto you!

This, my brethren, is a matter of universal concern. It is the interest of each of us to know whether we are thus graciously regarded by that God, on whom our very being and all our happiness entirely depend. And how shall we know this? In no other way than by discovering whether we have the characters of that happy man to whom he condescends to look. These are not pompous and high characters, they are not formed by earthly riches, learning, nobility, and power: "But to this man will I look," says the Lord, "even to him that is poor and of a contrite spirit, and who trembles at my Word." Let us inquire into the import of each of the characters.

I. It is the POOR man to whom the Majesty of heaven condescends to look. This does not principally refer to those who are financially poor in this world; for, though it is common that "the poor of this world are chosen to be rich in faith and heirs of the kingdom;" James 2:5; yet this is not a universal rule; for many, alas! Who are poor in this world—are not rich towards God, nor rich in good works—and therefore shall famish through eternity in remediless need and wretchedness!

But the poor here signifies such as Christ characterizes more fully by the poor in spirit; Matthew 5:3. And this character implies the following ingredients:

1. The poor man, to whom Jehovah looks—is deeply sensible of his own insufficiency, and that nothing but the enjoyment of God can make him happy. The poor man feels that he is not self-sufficient—but a dependent upon God. He is sensible of the weakness and poverty of his nature, and that he was not endowed with a sufficient stock of riches in his creation—to support him through the endless duration for which he was formed, or even for a single day. The feeble vine does not more closely adhere to the elm—than he does to his God. He is not more sensible of the insufficiency of his body to exist without air, or without food and water—than his soul can survive—without his God, and the enjoyment of his love. In short, he is reduced into his proper place in the system of the universe: low and mean in comparison with superior beings of the angelic order, and especially in comparison with the great Parent and support of nature.

He feels himself to be, what he really is—a poor, impotent, dependent creature, who can neither live, nor move, nor exist without God. He is sensible that his sufficiency is from God, 2 Corinthians 3:5, and that all the springs of his happiness are in him. This sense of his dependence upon God—is attended with a sense of the inability of all earthly enjoyments to make him happy, and fill the vast capacities of his soul, which were formed for the enjoyment of an infinite good. He has a relish for the blessings of this life—but it is attended with a sense of their insufficiency, and does not exclude a stronger relish for the superior pleasures of true religion. He is not a precise hermit, or a sour ascetic, on the one hand; and, on the other, he is not a lover of pleasure more than a lover of God. If he enjoys no great share of the comforts of this life, he does not labour, nor so much as wish for them as hissupreme happiness: he is well assured that they can never answer this end, even in their greatest affluence.

It is for God, it is for the living God—that his soul most eagerly thirsts! In the greatest extremity, he is sensible that the enjoyment of God's love is more necessary to his felicity, than the possession of all earthly blessings. Nay, he is sensible that if he is miserable in the absence of these, the principal cause is the absence of his God. Oh! if he were blessed with the perfect enjoyment of God, he could say, with Habakkuk: "Even though the fig trees have no blossoms, and there are no grapes on the vine; even though the olive crop fails, and the fields lie empty and barren; even though the flocks die in the fields, and the cattle barns are empty; even though universal famine would strip me of all my earthly blessings—yet I will rejoice in the LORD, as my complete happiness! I will rejoice in the God of my salvation!" Hab. 3:17, 18.

If he enjoys an affluence of earthly blessings, he still retains a sense of his need of the enjoyment of God. To be discontented and dissatisfied is the common fate of the rich, as well as the poor; they are still craving, craving an unknown something to complete their bliss. The soul, being formed for the enjoyment of the Supreme Good, secretly languishes and pines away in the midst of other enjoyments, without knowing its cure. It is the enjoyment of God alone—which can satisfy its unbounded desires! But, alas! it has no relish for him, no thirst after him; it is still crying, "More, more of the delights of the world!" like a man in a burning fever, who calls for cold water, which will but inflame his disease, and occasion a more painful return of thirst.

But the poor in spirit know where their cure lies. They do not ask with uncertainty, "Who will show us any sort of good?" But their petitions centre in this as the grand constituent of their happiness, "LORD, lift up the light of your countenance upon us!" and this puts more gladness into their hearts, than the abundance of corn and wine; Psalm 4:6, 7.

This was the language of the Psalmist, "Whom have I in heaven but you? And earth has nothing I desire besides you. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever!" Psalm 73:25, 26. And as this disposition extends to all earthly things, so it does to all created enjoyments whatever, even to those of the heavenly world! The poor man is sensible that he could not be happy even there—without the enjoyment of God. His language is, "Whom have I in heaven but you? It is beholding your face in righteousness, and awaking in your likeness, that alone can satisfy me!" Psalm 17:15.

2. This spiritual poverty implies deep humility and self-abasement. The poor man on whom the God of heaven condescends to look—is lowly in his own apprehensions; he accounts himself as not a being of mighty importance. He has no high esteem of his own good qualities—but is little in his own eyes. He is not apt to give himself the preference to others—but is ready to give way to them as his superiors. He has a generous sagacity to behold their good qualities, and commendable blindness towards their imperfections. But he is not quick to discern his own excellencies, nor sparing to his own frailties. Instead of being dazzled with the splendour of his own endowments or acquisitions, he is apt to overlook them with a noble neglect, and is sensible of hisweakness and defects.

Next Part Poor and Contrite Spirits—the 2