"It is vain for you," says the writer of the 127th Psalm, "to rise early
and sit up late and eat the bread of sorrow, for so He giveth to His
beloved (in their) sleep." That is the true reading, and I want you to
think about it. "God giveth to His beloved while they sleep." Over and
above what you have yourself achieved, you GET something you have never
worked for. And you get that, as it were, in your sleep. This is a
beautiful thought, and there are three people to whom I want to offer it
as God's comfort.
The first is the worried man. It is indeed directly against worry that
this psalmist sets forth his reminder. It is not that he minimises the
need for hard work and watchful care. But he tells the man who is
feverishly burning his candle at both ends, and consuming himself in a
frenzy of tense anxiety, to leave something for God to do. It is as if
he said, "Why so hot, little man, why so fiercely clutching all the
ropes? Remember that God is working too as well as you, working in your
interest and in love for you. When you have done your best therefore,
go to your bed and sleep with a quiet mind, for God giveth to His
beloved even so."
One can imagine how a word like that would relax the tension and lead
some persuadable Hebrew who heard it to say, "Ah, well, I worry far too
much. After all, I am not Providence. I am always getting a great many
things I have not wrought for. I shall worry less about securing the
good things I desire for me and mine, and trust more to God to give them
as He sees fit." If all of us who needed this reminder just had the
sense to come to the same conclusion!
I have seen a man compass his family with so many careful regulations
and observances that the criticism of a candid friend seemed entirely
just. "You would think," he said, "to see so-and-so shepherding his
family, that there was no other providence than his own." You can't be
with your best beloved all the while. And you ought to know that God
too is watching even while you sleep.
If there be some plan on which you have set your heart, and you are
over-anxious about it, quote this text to yourself. Do your best, of
course, but, having done so, leave the outcome with God. About a great
many of the things over which we worry ourselves needlessly, I believe
God's word to us is:--Leave these things to Me. You can't work for
them. And anxiety won't bring them. But you will get them, as you need
them, just as if they came to you in your sleep.
Said one hermit to another in the Egyptian desert, as he looked at a
flourishing olive tree near his cave, "How came that goodly tree there,
brother? For I too planted an olive, and when I thought it wanted
water, I asked God to give it rain and the rain came, and when I thought
it wanted sun I asked God and the sun shone, and when I deemed it needed
strengthening, I prayed and the frost came--God gave me all I demanded
for my tree, as I saw fit, and yet it died." "And I, brother," replied
the other hermit, "I left my tree in God's hands, for He knew what it
wanted better than I, and behold what a goodly tree it has become."
The second man to whom I would offer the comfort of this word of God is
the man who is disappointed. Things have gone wrong with him. The plan
on which he spent so much of his time and energy has miscarried, and a
very different result has emerged from what he counted on. His way, as
he saw it, is blocked, and he has had to turn aside.
Now, there are not many things one can say usefully to a disappointed
man. And it is cruel kindness to try to heal his hurt lightly.
Nevertheless, to him also the psalmist's message applies, and what he
needs to remember, that he may pick up heart and go on again, is that
God giveth to His beloved while they sleep.
We have all had disappointments, sore enough at the time, which
after-experience proved to have been blessings in disguise. Many a man
can point to a signal failure as the beginning of a true success or
usefulness or happiness. We did not feel as if we were being enriched
when our plan fell through, and we were bitter and rebellious enough at
the time, it may be, but it is quite clear to us now that God was at
that very time giving to us with both His hands.
No one, of course, can see that about any more than a few of his
disappointments. It would be false to experience to speak as if we
could. But what is manifestly true about one or two may conceivably
hold with regard to them all, if we knew more, or could see better. And
the Christian Gospel calls us to believe and trust that that is so.
There is another Hand than ours shaping our life, a wiser Hand. Better
things are being done for us than we can see in the meantime. And the
man whose hopes and plans have turned out amiss, but whose trust is
still in God, is invited by our psalmist to reason with himself
thus:--"I am like a man asleep, and I do not rightly understand at
present, but I will trust that it is not for nothing that misfortune has
come, and when I wake I shall hope to see that God has been giving to me
in love and mercy when I was not aware of it at all."
The third man whom this text will help and comfort is the worker, the
man or woman who is trying to do something for Christ's sake. The
Christian worker needs to be told that what he is trying to do is not
nearly all that he is doing. What he is, is speaking as loudly as what
he does or says. There is an aroma and fragrance about the life of the
consecrated Christ-like man or woman which sweetens and sanctifies other
lives beyond what he or she can ever know. Some of the best sermons in
the world have been preached by people who least suspected what they
were doing. The invalid in the home does not know how real religion
becomes to all who watch her patience and unselfishness. And among the
busy and vigorous we often catch hints and reflections, that they never
suspect, of what Christ-likeness means. The man who has surrendered his
life to God, indeed, is a channel of blessing to others beyond all he
ever dreams of. He must not be disheartened when he realises how little
he is doing, for the truth is he is doing far, far more than he knows.
Wherefore, my brother, be of good cheer, and render your service to
Christ with a quiet heart. Lay your course, and work your ship, and
hoist your sail and trust. And the gifts of God will enrich you, and
the winds of heaven will bring you on your way, even while you sleep.