(_A New-Year Motto._)
xxxviii. 15-20. _I shall go softly all my years, &c._
This resolution grows out of that singular experience of sickness and
recovery recorded in the preceding verses. It furnishes an excellent
motto for the year. Our translation is somewhat defective, but if we
substitute _"on"_ for _"in,"_ the correct sense will be clear. The
meaning is that the recovered king would walk through the fifteen
years that were added to his life in salutary remembrance of his
dangerous illness, and of the goodness of God in prolonging his days
on earth. The memory of that trouble and of the mercy that rescued
him would put a staff in his hand to make his walk more devoted,
circumspect, and consistent. Understood thus, the words are
applicable to all. Some of you may be able to trace a close
resemblance between your experience and that of Hezekiah. Like him,
you may have escaped from a well-nigh fatal illness. But all of us
can look back on similar periods--on mercies received and dangers
averted--and in recollection of them we may say, "I shall go softly
all my years _on_ the bitterness of my soul."
I do not know any better commentary on these words than the opening
stanza of Tennyson's _In Memoriam_:--
"Men may rise on stepping-stones
Of their dead selves to higher things."
A good New Year's motto, which harmonises so sweetly with it. Our
past experiences, our dead selves, may be made stepping-stones on
which we may climb to a clearer vision and a loftier devotion. What,
then, was the nature of that pathway of life which this good king
engaged to pursue? What was the prospect which opened up before him?
1. _A walk of humble dependence on God._ This element in the
resolution is distinctly expressed. In vers. 15, 16, God's Word and
acts are viewed as the real supports of life. Looking above all
secondary causes and natural agencies, the king acknowledges God as
the Source and Giver of life. This is a great lesson, and one which
an experience like that of Hezekiah can teach. It seems to us a
natural thing to live on; we count on continued health and long life
till some sickness lays us low, and we are brought to feel as we
never felt before that our times are in God's hand. But whether we
have passed through a dangerous illness or not, the resolution befits
us all. Let us remember that God sustains and orders our lives.
It was, indeed, a singular position in which Hezekiah was placed. He
knew precisely how long he would live. The duration of our pilgrimage
is just as fixed as his was, only we do not know it (P. D. 2252). The
thread of our life is in God's hand. Thus was Hezekiah taught to "go
softly." His soul had passed through "great bitterness," and he shall
bear it in mind, and his rescue from it deepen his dependence on God.
2. _A walk of usefulness._ It was on this plea that he had prayed for
the prolongation of his life (ver. 3). He had rendered valuable
service and had borne a consistent testimony. The convalescent king
saw a prospect of further work for God on earth. He who a short time
before this seemed about to leave his kingdom in confusion without an
heir to the throne is now able to say, "The father of the children
shall make known thy truth." Does it not become us to ask, Why is my
life prolonged? Why have I been permitted to enter on a new year? Is
it not for this reason, among others, that we may become increasingly
serviceable in advancing the cause of truth? Better far that life
should terminate than that we should live to no purpose, for every
year adds to our responsibilities. Advance, then, into this year
resolved that, God sparing you, you will live more useful lives
(H. E. I. 3228-3251; P. D. 2269).
3. _A walk of thankfulness_ (vers. 19, 20). How thankful this
convalescent was for his restoration to health, and all the more so
because to him, as to other saints of his age, the grave seemed dark
and gloomy (ver. 18). It needed the Gospel of Christ's resurrection
to dispel the darkness and the gloom. This psalm is itself a proof of
Hezekiah's thankful spirit, and perhaps the 118th Psalm is another
production of his pen, containing as it does words of hope suitable
to this period of his history (Ps. cxviii. 17, 18). Are we too
resolved that our remaining years shall be years of thanksgiving, our
lives a psalm of praise?
4. This fifteen years' walk was to be _a walk of peace_ (ver. 17).
The meaning here is that the affliction was sent with a view to his
obtaining a more settled and abiding peace; it teaches us, as nothing
else can, the secret of inward peace. What are the sources of
dispeace? One of them is found--(1.) In our _earthly strivings and
ambitions._ "There is no peace to the wicked." He is constantly on
the rack of avaricious struggles, unsatisfied longings, sensual
desires. Affliction can show us the utter vanity of earthly things.
How poor the world looks as seen from within the curtains of a dying
bed! The sufferer who has come back from the gates of death is able
to estimate earthly things at their right value. He ceases from the
low ambitions and carnal desires that once raged within him.
(2.) _Bodily pain and weakness_ is another cause of unrest. An
experience of this bitterness brings peace when the patient is
restored to health. We set greater value on a blessing which we have
lost and regained. One of our poets describes a convalescent
gathering strength, and coming forth after long confinement to look
upon the scenes of Nature--
"The common earth and air and skies
To him are opening paradise!"
To have such feelings we must have known affliction. For the
enjoyment of this peace we must have tasted "great bitterness."
(3.) But the greatest source of dispeace is _unpardoned sin_ (ver.
17). How complete is the forgiveness of sin as thus expressed! What a
peace is enjoyed when guilt is removed and God's love shed abroad in
our hearts! (H. E. I. 1893, 1894; P. D. 2675, 2677).
What more do we need to make this year a happy one than to set
forward with this resolution? We cannot break away from the past. We
are now what it has made us. Our "dead selves" make our living
present selves. From our trials and sorrows we may gain supports for
nobler endeavour. "I shall go softly," meekly, submissively,
prayerfully, "on the bitterness of my soul." Do you wish some spring,
some impulse to send you forward thus in life's pathway? Think of
some bitterness in your past experience, some Marah which the Lord
sweetened for you, some trouble from which He rescued you when you
lay on the brink of death, or under the accusations of a troubled
conscience, and make that "dead self" a support for the path before
you.--_William Guthrie, M.A._