confiding trust of a dying believer, that the trust is a death-bed trust,
and one especially prepared for that solemn moment when we come to the
threshold of eternity, and, leaving all below, are just on the point of
entering alone into the unseen world. Let no one think lightly of such a
moment, or suppose that because there may be perfect peace there is no
deep solemnity in the approaching change. There is an inexpressible
solemnity about it, and it is only the foolhardy man that will ever brave
it unprepared. But the words of this text are exactly suited to the
well-prepared believer. He has reached the point when friends can do no
more for him. The faithful wife can accompany him no further; the loving
child can no longer minister to his comfort; every human help utterly
fails; and the dying man is left alone with God. But his Blessed Father
is at his right hand, and can reach his soul even when men think he is
unconscious; so that, even at that moment when to the eye of man there is
nothing but weakness, confusion, and failure, the trusting heart, in the
inner secrets of the soul, can lean on the Beloved, and say, ‘Into thine
hand I commit my spirit: thou hast redeemed me, O Lord God of truth.’
This is what our Lord did just as he was dying; this is what Stephen did
when he said, ‘Lord Jesus, receive my spirit;’ and this is what I hope
each of us may be able to do when the time of our departure is come, and
the curtain which separates earth from heaven is being drawn aside to let
us pass.
But I do not think that death is the only occasion on which we may use
these words, or that we are to lay them by unused till we require them in
our dying hour; for, as far as we can gather from the psalm, they are to
have a present life-use likewise. The psalm is not a death-bed psalm,
but one composed under difficulties. Nor did David write it under any
expectation that he would be overpowered by these difficulties, for in
verses 2, 3, and 4, he prays for deliverance; and in verse 8 he expressly
declares, ‘Thou hast not shut me up into the hand of the enemy: thou hast
set my feet in a large room.’ We must, therefore, regard these words as
spoken by one who was in difficulty, and being in difficulty, availed
himself of the privilege of committing all his difficulties into his
Father’s hand. But you will observe that in this verse he does not speak
so much of his difficulties as his spirit. He does not say, ‘Into thy
hand I commend my difficulties,’ but ‘Into thy hand I commend my spirit.’
He may in those words have prayed for the preservation of his life, but I
think it was rather the preservation of his own spirit, what St. Paul
describes ‘the spirit of the mind,’ for which he required help. We all
know how the spirit is harassed, and the rest of the soul disturbed, when
we are placed in circumstances of perplexity. At such times we are often
distracted in prayer, and are so much occupied by the things that trouble
us that we are tempted to forget our resting-place. Hence the importance
of especial prayer, not merely that difficulties may be overcome, but
that our own spirit may be kept unruffled and undisturbed in perfect
peace reposing on the Lord. This is just what David did in the psalm.
He earnestly prayed that he might be delivered. ‘Deliver me in thy
righteousness.’ ‘Deliver me speedily.’ He earnestly sought God’s
guiding hand, in order that in his own conduct he might do God’s will:
‘For thy name’s sake lead me and guide me.’ And meanwhile he trusted his
own spirit, his mind, his thoughts, his temper, his whole man into his
Father’s keeping, and said, ‘Into thy hand I commit my spirit.’
II. But now let us turn to that redemption which was the foundation of
his trust. He did not trust without a reason, but said, ‘Into thy hand I
commit my spirit; thou hast redeemed me, O Lord God of truth;’ and we
have to consider what he meant by that expression, ‘Thou hast redeemed
me.’ In answer to this question, I have no hesitation in expressing my
firm conviction that the redemption to which he referred was precisely
the same as that on which we ourselves rest, the redemption from the
guilt of sin wrought out by the Lord Jesus on the cross. There has never
been any other redemption which could be the foundation of trust either
in life or in death; and when we find the blessing of the Gospel
connected in the Old Testament with redemption, we have no choice but to
believe that the redemption with which they are connected is that great
redemption by the Lord Jesus on which all our own hopes exclusively
depend. Take, for example, such words as those of David, in Ps. cxxx.
The great subject of that psalm is forgiveness: ‘There is forgiveness
with thee, that thou mayest be feared’ (ver. 4); and the reason why
Israel is to hope for it is that ‘with the Lord there is mercy, and with
him is plenteous redemption.’ What but the redemption through the
precious blood of the Lord Jesus can be described as thus plenteous for
all who need forgiveness? The same may be said of those words of God
Himself in Isa. xliv. 22: ‘I have blotted out, as a thick cloud, thy
transgressions, and, as a cloud, thy sins: return unto me, for I have
redeemed thee.’ He cannot refer in those words to any deliverance that
had already taken place, for he is only inviting the sinner to return;
but he clearly refers to the blotting out of the curse through atoning
blood, and to the way of life laid open to the returning sinner. So I
cannot doubt for a moment that redemption in this verse means exactly the
same as in both those passages. In Isaiah God said, ‘I have redeemed
thee;’ and in this verse David said, ‘Thou hast redeemed me.’ The one
gives, the other accepts; but they both speak of the same thing, the
redemption on the cross, the only satisfaction for sin. Thus our blessed
Lord, when He quoted the words, omitted this latter clause. He said,
‘Into thine hands I commit my spirit;’ but he did not say, ‘For thou hast
redeemed me.’ The reason of this is obvious, for God had not redeemed
Him, and He Himself was at that very time engaged in completing the
redemption by His death. He could not use the words, for they referred
to that great act of mercy in which at that very time He was engaged.
But it may be said, If the redemption here spoken of was not to take
place for more than a thousand years after the psalm was written, how was
it that David spoke of it as a completed thing? Why did he not rather
say, ‘Thou art about to redeem me?’ In answer to that question, two
reasons may be given, either of which would be quite sufficient to
explain his words.
(1.) The redemption was already complete in the eternal purpose of God.
Remember those words by St. Peter (1 Pet i. 19, 20): ‘Ye were redeemed
with the precious blood of Christ . . . who verily was fore-ordained
before the foundation of the world, but was manifest in these last times
for you;’ and remember how he is described (Rev. xiii. 8) as ‘the Lamb
slain from the foundation of the world.’ Although, therefore, the Son of
God has not yet become incarnate, God speaking of His divine purpose
could say, ‘I have redeemed thee;’ and His believing servant, referring
to that same purpose, could reply, though a thousand years must pass
before he witnessed it, ‘Thou hast redeemed me.’
(2.) But it was not purposed only, for it was promised. It was promised
to our first parents the very day of their miserable fall, and it was
kept continually before the eye of God’s people by a series of types and
prophecies. Thus David’s language is an illustration of the words,
‘Faith is the substance of things hoped for.’ What God had promised was
as sure to him as if he held it in his hand; it was as much his own as if
he had seen it. He was as sure of the power of the cross of Christ, as
if he had been standing by, and had heard the centurion say, ‘Verily this
was the Son of God.’ And is it not apparent from the verse itself that
this is the real meaning of his words? for what is the peculiar force of
those concluding words ‘O Lord God of truth?’ Do they not teach us that
he was assured of that redemption, not because it had seen it
accomplished, but because it was made sure by the truth of God? The
truth of God was pledged to the redeeming work and therefore that work
was as sure to him as if it were already finished. He did not,
therefore, wait to puzzle his mind about times and seasons; he knew that
God was true to His promise, and therefore being assured of His declared
purpose, he said, ‘Thou hast redeemed me, O Lord God of truth.’
But if this be the case, we are surely brought to the conclusion that,
whatever be our position, redeeming grace must be the one foundation of
believing trust. Patriarchal faith looking forward, and modern Christian
faith looking backward, both meet in one point, that point being the
cross of Christ. And as for ourselves it matters not what are our
peculiar circumstances. We may be actively engaged in the work of life,
involved in its perplexities, and compelled to take a part in its
struggles; or we may be at the end of life, expecting in a day or two to
depart hence, and be no more: but in either case we must rest simply on
the atoning blood, and resting on it, whether it be for life or for
death, we may say in calm, quiet, peaceful, trusting faith, ‘Into thy
hand I commit my spirit: thou hast redeemed me, O Lord God of truth.’
But while we trust the perfect work we must not forget the perfect truth,
for we are quite as dependent on that truth as David was. To his mind
that had turned a future act into a present reality, and on that same
truth we rely in order that the same act, long since completed, may be to
us a present salvation, and the assurance of it a present power. We want
each one to look back to the cross as David looked forward to it, and to
say in happy, peaceful, personal trust as he did, ‘Into thine hand I
commit my spirit, for thou hast redeemed me.’ But in order to do this we
must not forget the truth. We cannot rest on the work without the word
any better than on the word without the work. It is when both are
combined, and both applied by the Holy Ghost to the soul, that we can
say, ‘Thy counsels of old are faithfulness and truth,’ and resting on
those eternal counsels, whether living or dying, may trust Him without a
fear.
May we not then, every one of us, learn a lesson of simple trust from
these few words in David’s psalm? It matters not what is our position.
When we are dying men and drawing near to the gateway of eternity we may
calmly look up, and trust our soul for all eternity into His hand. If we
be exposed to harassing anxiety, and are anxious about our own temper and
judgment in difficult circumstances, we may spread our own spirit in
simple faith before the throne. Or if we are undertaking work, and
endeavouring to be employed for God, feeling the need of wisdom, zeal,
love, and power, we may commit it all into His loving care. Yes,
whatever it is that weighs on our mind, death, anxiety, disappointment,
or duty, we may trust it all, and, whatever it is, may say as St. Paul
did, ‘I am persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have committed
unto him against that day.’ Yes; and He is perfectly sure to keep it
safe.
But there is one little word in the text that I have not noticed, and yet
it is an essential one to the trust. Great principles are often found in
little words, and so it is here, for all hangs on that little
monosyllable ‘me.’ If you can only say, ‘Thou hast redeemed mankind,’
your soul will never rest in abiding trust. Nor will it if you can only
say, ‘Thou hast redeemed thy Church,’ for the safety of the Church does
not secure the peace of the individual. It is only when you can
reverently look up to the atoning blood, and say, ‘Thou hast redeemed
_me_,’ that you will be able in hallowed peace to commit everything into
His loving hand. When you can say with deep thanksgiving, ‘In whom _I_
have redemption through his blood,’ you may then without the shadow of a
doubt commit your body, your soul, your spirit, your will, your thoughts,
your work, and all you care for, into His loving hand.
VII. ANATHOTH.
‘Behold, Hanameel the son of Shallum thine uncle shall come unto
thee, saying, Buy thee my field that is in Anathoth: for the right of
redemption is thine to buy it.’—JER. xxxii. 7.
THE Old and New Testaments are so linked together that they cannot well
be separated. The Old is the foundation of the New; the New is the
head-stone of the Old; and the same great principles run through them
both. Thus faith in the Old Testament is the same in principle as faith
in the New; and by studying the faith of the ancient patriarchs and
prophets we may learn most important lessons respecting that of the
modern believer. In different ages and different persons faith may
differ in its object and in its form; but it is always the same in
principle, and always involves the fixed assurance that what God has
promised He is able and certain to perform. This is very clearly seen in
the deeply important lesson of practical faith conveyed to us in this
history of Jeremiah. The events described in the chapter took place
during the siege of Jerusalem by Nebuchadnezzar. Zedekiah was then king,
and was struggling to the utmost of his power against the powerful enemy
that was come up against him. In the midst of the siege the Prophet
Jeremiah was employed to convey a most discouraging prophecy, for, as you
read verse 3, Jeremiah said, ‘Thus saith the Lord, Behold, I will give
this city unto the hands of the king of Babylon, and he shall take it.’
Of course such a prophecy was calculated to dishearten the defenders of
the city. So, though it was the word of the Lord, Zedekiah arrested the
prophet and shut him up in the court of the prison. Jeremiah, therefore,
was in a position of great distress, the city was besieged, and he knew
from his own prophecy that it would be taken; while he himself was a
prisoner at the mercy of a bad and arbitrary king.
But while he was there alone in his prison the word of the Lord came to
him saying that his first cousin, by name Hanameel, would come unto him
and say, ‘Buy thee my field that is in Anathoth: for the right of
redemption is thine to buy it.’ You will remember that we found the
nearest of kin had the right of redemption, and evidently Jeremiah stood
in that position to his cousin. As famine and pestilence were raging in
the city (see ver. 24), it is easy to understand why Hanameel was
compelled to sell. But he could not sell to any one, for the right of
redemption belonged to Jeremiah. The prophet, therefore, was warned by
the Lord that Hanameel was coming to him with this object; and
accordingly he very soon appeared as was foretold, and said, ‘Buy my
field I pray thee that is in Anathoth, which is in the country of
Benjamin: for the right of redemption is thine; buy it for thyself,’ ver.
8. You must not fail to notice the confirmation of his faith through
this fulfilment of the prophecy, for when Hanameel came to him he said,
‘Then knew I that this was the word of the Lord.’ Till then he was
probably not quite satisfied, but when his cousin came as it had been
foretold, then he knew it was of God. Let us learn a lesson for
ourselves. There were many prophecies of a coming Saviour scattered
throughout the four thousand years that preceded His birth, and I can
perfectly understand the difficulty of faith in those who did not see
those prophecies realised; but now that the Promised One has come
according to His promise, and the great prediction has been fulfilled,
the least that we can say is, ‘Now we know that this was the word of the
Lord.’
But to return to Jeremiah. Being convinced that the whole thing was of
God, he proceeded at once to redeem the field. He took care that the
deeds were properly drawn, signed, sealed, and witnessed. And when the
money, seventeen shekels of silver, was paid, and the conveyance
complete, he trusted the deeds to Baruch, his faithful friend, and
charged him to deposit them safely in an earthen vessel. His words were,
‘Take these evidences, this evidence of the purchase, both which is
sealed, and this evidence which is open, and put them in an earthen
vessel that they may continue many days.’ You will observe that last
clause, ‘that they may continue many days.’ He seemed quite sure that it
would be a long time before they would be wanted.
Thus the transaction was complete, and the land redeemed; but not so
Jeremiah’s part respecting it, for when he had delivered the evidence of
purchase unto Baruch, his next act was to kneel down in prayer. He says,
ver. 16, ‘I prayed unto the Lord.’ I have not time now to study either
his prayer or God’s answer to it; I would only remark in passing what a
blessed thing it is when all that we do is of such a character that we
can pray about it before God. It would wonderfully alter the character
of commercial life if every bargain could be spread in prayer before God,
and if every contract were of such a nature that as soon as it was
complete we could kneel down and ask God’s blessing on it. I am inclined
to think that this principle would knock off a great many of the hard
bargains made in life. It would certainly prevent all cases of fraud and
adulteration, and put a stop at once to the whole principle of the
non-payment of lawful debts. Jeremiah, when he would redeem the land,
first paid the money, and then knelt down to pray.
But that is not the point to be particularly noticed in the passage, for
we must rather study the mind of Jeremiah, and consider on what principle
he redeemed the field. Why was it that, when he knew the city was about
to be taken, and everything within it was already at famine prices, he
apparently threw away these seventeen shekels in the purchase of a field
which to all appearance he was never likely to possess? He knew
perfectly well that at the time he purchased it it could be of no use
whatever. It is believed to have been about three miles north of
Jerusalem, and was probably at that very time trampled down by the
besieging host, and he knew equally well that till after the restoration
of the Jews he was not likely to attain possession. The city was
invested by the Chaldeans, and there was not the smallest hope of a
successful resistance; why then at such a time should he spend money in
the redemption of the field? I believe that there were three principles
on which he acted,—obedience, faith, and confidence in the law of
redemption, and that he was called to do what he did in order to teach
these principles to his besieged fellow-countrymen.
(1.) There was clearly obedience, simple obedience in direct opposition
to human calculation. You may see this very clearly in the concluding
words of his prayer. It is clear from ver. 24 that all human calculation
was against him, and he knew it to be so, for he said, ‘Behold the
mounts, they are come unto the city to take it; and the city is given
into the hand of the Chaldeans that fight against it, because of the
sword, and of the famine, and of the pestilence; and what thou hast
spoken is come to pass; and, behold, thou seest it.’ But the Lord had
commanded him to buy the field, for he adds, ver. 25, ‘And thou hast said
unto me, O Lord God, Buy thee the field for money, and take witnesses:
for’ (or rather ‘though,’ according to the margin) ‘the city is given
into the hands of the Chaldeans.’ God told him to buy it, _though_ the
city was given up to the Chaldeans. He was not, therefore, to be guided
by what he saw, but by what he knew to be the will of God. If he were to
lose all his money, and never come into possession of the field, it was
his clear duty to obey. And so it is ours, when once we are convinced of
the will of God.
(2.) But as believers in the Lord Jesus we are not called to obey
without hope, for where there is no hope you will never find power. The
Christian’s obedience, therefore, is full of hope, because it is all
founded on faith, and so was the obedience of Jeremiah. He acted in
faith, firmly trusting the promises of God. You see this very clearly in
his words to Baruch when he handed him the deeds, as recorded ver. 15:
‘For thus saith the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel, Houses and fields
and vineyards shall be possessed again in this land.’ He looked,
therefore, beyond the present distress, and, more than that, beyond what
I may term the first future. He foresaw the overthrow, but he looked
beyond it to the recovery. He himself predicted desolation, but he was
so sure of the restoration that on the strength of that assurance he
redeemed the land. Though he saw the army of the Chaldeans around the
city, though he was at that very time in prison for prophesying, ‘Thus
saith the Lord, Behold I will give this city into the hand of the king of
Babylon, and he shall take it,’ yet he was so sure of the truth of God’s
promise to restore it, that he acted on the promise, and purchased the
property. He looked beyond the captivity to the recovery, and
confidently acted on God’s promise. That he fully realised the
difficulty is clear from the words of his prayer, in which he said, ver.
17, ‘There is nothing too hard for thee,’ and from God’s reply to these
words in ver. 27, ‘Is there anything too hard for me?’ But he was, like
Abraham, fully persuaded that what God had promised ‘He was able also to
perform,’ and therefore he acted on the promise? and paid down his money
in the certainty that God would fulfil His word. Dear brethren, is there
not a noble lesson here for all of us? Are we not all taught, not merely
to believe, but to act on our belief? We may see difficulties thickening
around us; we may even see prophecies of sore trial in the latter days.
But we know that our God shall trample down Satan under our feet shortly.
We are to trust Him, therefore, and act on our trust. We see things
decaying around us; we look at our own frail bodies, and believe that
they will soon be laid lifeless in the grave. We see death cutting down
our dearest friends, and we know that, if the Lord does not come first,
it will soon cut us down too. But we look beyond to a resurrection, to
the certain promise that we shall rise again; and therefore now we must
live and act as those who are sure of the resurrection life. To adopt
the figure of the narrative, we must purchase the field with a view to
the restoration. There may be dark days and sore trials before the time
of possession; but it is certain to come at last. As Daniel said, ‘The
thing is true though the time appointed is long.’ So we know the premise
is true, though the time of waiting may be long; and we must spend our
whole life, and lay out all our powers, with the one fixed object of a
certainty of possession when the dead shall arise, and the Lord shall
take the kingdom.